19 | It's Not Weird to Say I Love You

I wasn’t thinking. I was only feeling. But if I had been thinking, I would have thought, “This feels right.”

Jun 17, 2026

It’s Not Weird to Say I Love You is the story of a fragile new friendship determined to grow stronger in spite of the bullies and beliefs bent on its destruction. A tender, awkward, and at times heart-wrenching tale of first love, buried grief, and found family reminiscent of Eleanor & Park and The Perks of Being a Wallflower, It’s Not Weird… offers an emotional escape from our tech-centered lives to a time when DMs were sent as hand-written notes, scrawled onto napkins and slid into locker vents. When talking outside of school meant talking on the telephone and hoping no one in your house “picked up” and embarrassed you. When trolls had names and faces and sat beside you in home room. When making a connection required the courage to show up, speak up, and open up… just as you are.
New chapters of Annie and Merrick’s story will post every Wednesday morning.
Dive in anytime or join the journey from page one.

Chapter Nineteen

I was feeling guilty about the numerous lies I’d told my parents the morning of Danielle’s party.

That I had bad cramps and didn’t feel like going to the neighbor’s party down the street with them and Freddie that afternoon. That I would just be home resting.

When in fact, Merrick would be showing up any minute to escort me to Danielle’s, where there would be no adult supervision.

And I did not tell them that Merrick would be in my bedroom with me while I changed into my bathing suit in my closet with the door halfway open. Not that he was peeking.

“I don’t think I should be here right now,” he mumbled through the pillow he was holding over his face while stretched out on my bed.

“Whatever,” I said. “I’m almost ready, and I thought we should talk about the rules for today.”

“God, what is it with you and rules?” He said, his voice clearer, unhindered by pillow stuffing. I wriggled the second strap of my bathing suit into place in a hurry. “I’m pretty sure making me lay here inches from you getting dressed is breaking like fifty of them.”

“Well, I’m not naked anymore, so you can relax.”

“I was relaxed,” he sighed. “Until you said ‘naked’.”

“What about drinking? Are you going to drink?” I pulled a light blue sun dress over my head and maneuvered my arms through the sleeves.

“No,” he said. “But you can if you really want to. I’ll keep an eye on you.”

I silently celebrated the idea of either one of his eyes on me.

“And Drake will be there,” I said, raining on my own parade. “So, we’ll be dealing with his bullshit at some point.”

“Well, hopefully Danielle has been feeling generous lately and that won’t be an issue and —Holy shit, Annie!”

I stepped out of the closet and he sat bolt upright in less than a second, his eyes wide and his mouth open in surprise.

“What?” I said, flustered by the shocked look on his face. “What is it?” I scanned myself for any exposed body parts I may have failed to cover while dressing in the dark.

“Have you ever been to a high school party before?”

“No,” I said, puzzled. “Have you?”

“No. But I’ve been in a guy’s locker room.”

“What does that mean?” I was suddenly very aware of how much of my skin Merrick was seeing. More than he ever had before. More than most people had.

“It means my job just got way harder,” he said. “And there’s no way I’m letting you drink anything.”

“Why?”

“Because you look … freaking hot, that’s why,” he stammered. “Guys are going to be all over you. I’m screwed.” He smashed the pillow over his face and fell back on the bed.

I didn’t have a mirror in my bedroom to confirm his assessment. But I didn’t want him to feel weird about going to the party with me. And the way I was dressed was obviously making him feel weird.

“I can change into something else,” I said.

“No,” he mumbled through the pillow. “Don’t change. I just need a minute to … recalibrate.”

I put my hand over my mouth to stifle my laughter. Then I watched him take three deep breaths into the pillow, cross his heart, and bring his hands together, like he was praying.

“Okay, let’s go.” He threw the pillow off and stood up, red-faced, blinking stars from his eyes, and headed for the door.

“Are you okay?” I asked, chasing him into the hallway.

“Yep. Okay. Just fifteen. And … a guy.”

I caught him at the top of the stairs and linked my arm through his. He shuddered, a nervous laugh escaping his lips.

“What were you saying about rules for today?” he asked. “Because you’ve broken so many now, I can’t keep track anymore.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t have any then,” I teased.

“We need at least one,” he said.

“Okay, what’s that?”

“That we don’t care what other people think when they see us together.”

“Agreed,” I said.

“Because today, I’m going to be the jealous boyfriend you never knew you always wanted.”

“Aw. That’s weirdly kind of hot.” I said, smiling.

“Yeah,” he sighed, leading me down the stairs. “I know it is.”

Merrick’s hand rested protectively on my lower back as Danielle approached us at the gate, noticeably inebriated, solo cup in hand. I tried not to ogle her chest as she hugged me hello. It turned out that despite Merrick’s response to my wardrobe, or the fact it was barely over 70 degrees outside, he and I would be the least naked people at the party.

Once she was done hugging me against her scantily-clad breasts, Danielle greeted Merrick by weirdly dragging her finger over the buttons of his shirt, popping the topmost one out of its hole.

“Oops.” She giggled. “Well, you’re more comfortable now anyway.”

“Am I though?” He squinted playfully at her and she ate it up like candy.

“Come on back, you guys,” she said, turning on her heels and leading us to the patio. “I’m so glad you came.” She wobbled alongside the pool. “There’s drinks and food in the sunroom, so help yourself. And there’s ping pong and pool in the garage.” She waved her hands in no particular direction. “That’s Drake’s domain right now, just so you know. Oh! And no one is allowed in the main house. Especially the bedrooms.” She wagged her finger at Merrick. “It’s the rules.”

“Well, we love rules, don’t we Annie?”

He lightly pinched my waist and I pressed my lips together to keep from smiling.

“Okay, have fun.” Danielle tipsy danced away to the music coming from a boom box perched inside the sunroom window.

“Well, this is intimidating,” Merrick said, scanning the pool area where there was already a lot of drinking going on. And a lot of coupling.

“At least you don’t have to worry about guys being all over me,” I said. “They all appear to be occupied.”

“Except for Travis. He’s always available.”

I gagged. “That’s disgusting.”

“Maybe he’s a good cuddler,” he teased.

“Ugh. Please stop.” I laughed.

“Can I get you something to drink? Something without absolutely no alcohol whatsoever?”

“Sure,” I said. “Party pooper.”

He giggled and headed for the sunroom at the opposite side of the pool. Enough people looked up and whispered to each other as he passed them to make my stomach churn nervously. I hoped they weren’t saying anything unkind. I felt their eyes on me, too, as I crossed the patio to claim a vacant lounge chair nestled between two potted hedges. The glances weren’t threatening. More curious. Even friendly. Or in Chris Green’s case, embarrassed. But only because I’d caught him on the receiving end of a very deep back massage from a half-naked Brittany.

I slipped off my sandals and sat down on the foot end of the lounge chair. My muscles clenched at the sound of Drake’s high-pitched laugh coming from the garage. I worried he had found Merrick and was already making him wish he’d never agreed to come with me. But then I reminded myself Merrick was safe in the sunroom, getting us drinks. He returned a moment later with two bottles of sparkling water.

He smiled warmly and my cheeks flushed.

I’d spent so much time putting myself together before the party, I hadn’t noticed how handsome he looked. I’d lent him one of my dad’s oxford shirts. It was a seafoam green color with faint white checks, and it made his tan look even deeper than usual. His hair was getting a little long in the front and it looked wavy and touchably soft.

The sun fell behind the clouds, and I was hit with a chill.

“I should have brought a sweater,” I said, wrapping my arms around myself.

Merrick set the bottles down next to my feet and climbed into the chair behind me.

“I’m sorry I can’t give you my shirt,” he said. “For obvious reasons.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “The sun will come back.”

“Well, in the meantime…” He leaned forward and pressed his hands into my upper arms.

“Jesus,” I said, squirming out of his grip. “Your hands are freezing.”

“Sorry,” he said. “It’s from the drinks.” He rubbed his palms together fast, to warm them up before placing them on my skin again. “Better?”

“Mm hm,” I said.

He ran his palms up and down my arms, creating just enough friction to heat up the surface of my skin and send a wave of tingles down my forearms and into my fingers. I sensed he was about to remove his hands, but I didn’t want him to. I slid myself back in the chair and leaned against him. He began again, more slowly this time. From the top of my shoulder to my wrist and back again. Heavy, palm driven strokes down. Gentle, fingertip led swipes up.

My skin was singing under his touch. The music behind us became muffled in my ears as I tried to focus on the steady sound of his breath as it grazed past my ear. I could feel his heartbeat against my back. I was warm. So warm. And I didn’t want to be cold again. I collected his hands in mine and drew them around me, his arms crossed around my middle, hands finding my waist on either side.

I leaned back against his shoulder. He tilted his head forward and brought his lips to my neck. He didn’t kiss it. He just grazed it, softly, with his open mouth, and my insides flooded with warmth and hungry butterflies.

I wasn’t thinking. I was only feeling. But if I had been thinking, I would have thought, “This feels right.”

I reached my hand back and slid my fingers into his hair. He made a sound in his throat that told me I was making him feel good. That he wanted me to touch him. And I wanted to touch him. I wanted to kiss him. That’s what I really wanted.

I shifted myself in front of him so I could look into his eyes. They were closed. I ran my fingers over his cheeks, hoping that would make him look at me, but he wouldn’t. I slid my thumb along his bottom lip, and he suddenly grabbed my hand in his and pulled it gently down and away from his face.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I can’t.”

“Why?” I asked, the hurt of his refusal already throbbing steadily in my chest.

“Not here,” he said. “Not … like this.”

“Well, then where?” I demanded, my voice breaking. “When?”

“I told you,” he said sadly. “When I’m better.”

My eyes filled with frustrated tears. I grabbed his shirt in my fists and pushed him back, forcing him to look me in the eye. “I don’t want you better. I want you just the way you are.”

“No, you don’t,” he insisted.

“Screw you, I don’t! Why are you like this? Why are you being so awful to me?”

“I’m sorry, Annie. I’m just trying to protect you,” he said. It sounded like the truth, but I was too upset to care about the truth.

“I don’t want you to protect me. I want you to kiss me. And you don’t want to.”

“I do want to.” He took my face in his hands. “You know I do. I just want to do it right. Can you understand that?”

“No!” My voice was no longer quiet enough to be lost under the din of music and conversation. People were looking at us. And I didn’t care.

He pulled my face toward his until our foreheads were pressed together. He wanted to keep everything we were saying quiet. Between us. A secret.

“If you knew everything about me, Annie. You would want to run. I know it.” His voice was trembling and low. “I can’t risk that. Losing you. I need you to help me get through this last part. I know I can do it, but not if you run. Please, Annie. You promised you’d wait for me. You promised.”

I pushed his shoulders back and glared at him. My lungs were burning, and I could taste the bitterness of the words I was about to say.

“Now you know something about me,” I said. “I don’t always keep my promises. And I’m not running. I’m walking.” I leaned in and prepared the final dagger on my tongue. “Because if I had just walked away that day you talked to me in homeroom, you wouldn’t be here. And I’d be better off.”

I wrenched myself out of his arms and stormed off in my bare feet, ignoring the whispers and snickers of our audience. I made my way to the sunroom, poured myself a cup of red poison and threw it down over the lump festering in my throat. I heard Drake cackle and Danielle squeal in drunken delight across the patio.

I fought back hot tears as I poured myself a second cup of punch and walked toward the sound of my new friends’ laughter.

It was time to start fitting in.

Many red plastic cups arranged on a surface. — Photo by David Trinks on Unsplash

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