“What about your best friend? What’s she like?” he asked, digging deeper into my secrets. I started to rub my locket.
“Number three,” I mumbled under my breath. It felt like the walls were closing in on me. I thought I might be able to tell him about Reagan—the truth about her—but I knew now that I couldn’t. The little he got this morning was all he was going to get.
“What was that?” he said.
I sighed. Squeezing my eyes shut, I took a deep breath, and wished I had the nerve to tell him. “Rule number three,” I said louder.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Everything,” I said, my voice suddenly hoarse.
I started to rub the locket harder. He glanced down at my hand, reached over the table, and took it into his. His thumb grazed the top of my hand.
Jenny’s voice came sailing through the air. “How are you two doing back here?” she asked. Owen pulled his hand away and sat back in his chair.
“Great,” I answered, overdoing the cheerful tone in my voice. “You make some killer coffee and donuts.”
“Yeah, they’re okay,” she responded modestly. I saw her blush, and she glanced away for a moment.
“Well,” Owen said, pushing his chair back and standing up. “I think it’s best if we head back to campus.”
Despite the back and forth awkwardness, I wasn’t ready to leave. I could see the tension rolling off Owen’s shoulders, and decided it was best to do as he said.
“Already?” Jenny pouted. She walked over to us and pulled me into her arms. “It was so nice to meet you, Brennan.”
Her kindness warmed my heart. “It was nice to meet you too. And sorry about the mess earlier.”
“Oh, that’s okay.” She laughed. She looked over at Owen and smiled. “You better bring her back again sometime,” she demanded.
Owen laughed uncomfortably. “I will.”
Although he was suddenly ready to leave, his response gave me a little hope. Would he really bring me back here in the future? Or would I have to come on my own to see Jenny again? I wasn’t sure.
We said our good-byes and went out the back door. The sun hadn’t done us favors while we were inside. It was just as cold as it was on the way to the donut shop, if not colder. But before I could even shudder, and without saying a single word, Owen slipped his arm around me and pulled me close. We walked back to the dorms, quiet yet content.
But somehow I couldn’t help thinking this all might’ve been a huge mistake.
TWELVE
AMELIA WAS GONE by the time I got back. She didn’t return until after I was asleep, and that’s how the rest of the holiday weekend went. When I’d wake up, her bed was empty, and when I went to bed, it was still left undisturbed.
Owen pulled a similar act, too. Other than our trip to the donut shop, I didn’t see him at all that weekend. I’d wanted to see him again, but when he didn’t show up, I was more than annoyed. I hated this dizzying emotional rollercoaster, and by the time Monday morning came, I was ready to jump off the ride.
Because of my stressing over Owen, I wasn’t looking forward to class, so I decided to skip it and sleep in. I couldn’t go through an hour and a half of watching him grade tests only to have him disappear after class again. Nope, I thought, no way am I doing that! I was going to stay in my nice warm comfy bed and sleep the day away. But my dreams were interrupted by the sound of someone knocking on the door.
I groaned and pulled a pillow over my head, trying to drift back to sleep, but only a few minutes passed before the knocking happened again. I heard Amelia growl softly and open the door.
“Brennan!” Amelia all but shouted. “It’s for you.”
“Tell them I’m asleep,” I mumbled under my pillow.
“No, you’re not.” I felt my bed dip beneath me. “And you’re going to be late for class.”
I hesitantly pulled the pillow away, and came face-to-face with Owen’s green eyes. He was sitting next to me, an arm on either side, apparently refusing to respect my personal space.
I rolled over and pulled the blanket over my head. “Go away,” I said groggily.
“Ohhhhh, no,” he said. He rolled me onto my back. He tugged the blanket free and smiled as our eyes met. “You’re not skipping class today.”
“What’s it to you?” I said accusingly. “You disappeared again.”
I heard Amelia groan across the room, and lifted my head to look at her. “So did you,” I said, milking my sense of abandonment for all it was worth.
“I had a paper due before finals,” Owen said defensively. “I stayed in my room all weekend getting it done.”
“And you didn’t think to cross the hallway and let me know?” I snapped. Stop it, Brennan . . . I mentally chastised myself.
“What stopped you from coming to my door?” he shot back. He narrowed his eyes, and I tried to shrink back under my covers. He was right—I was more than capable of knocking on his door. “Sorry,” he said softly. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. And I should’ve came by.”
Owen was apologizing even though he had nothing to be sorry for. I was the one acting like a fool. I sat up. “No,” I said, looking from Owen to Amelia. “I’m sorry for overreacting.”
Owen offered me a soft smile before clapping his hands on his legs and standing up. “All right! You better get up now or else you’re going to be late for class.”
I groaned and laid back on my bed. I threw my covers aside and climbed out of bed. “Go wait out in the hall so I can get dressed.”
“Aw, you’re no fun,” he whined.
I laughed and pushed him to toward the door. He stopped, faced me, and puckered his lower lip. I giggled. I stood on the tip of my toes, and whispered in his ear. “You have no idea how fun I can be.”
His eyes widened and he licked his lips.
I had no idea why I said that let alone what possessed me to say that in the first place. I didn’t have any idea about how fun I may or may not be. But if Owen was involved, I was sure I’d have the time of my life.
Sheepishly, he left the room.
Amelia climbed back in bed and covered her head. By the time I was dressed, she was already talking in her sleep. She murmured something that sounded suspiciously like Callen’s name, followed by a giggle, but I shook it off, chalking it up to my overactive imagination.
“I think you’re setting a record at being the quickest dresser I know,” Owen teased as I stepped out in the hall. I rolled my eyes and brushed past him.
The temperature was five degrees less than the day before, but it felt like twenty-five. I tightened my scarf and pulled my jacket closer to my body, but I was still cold. Owen must’ve noticed because his arm quickly found its way around my waist again.
Other students stared at us as we walked together. Some seemed genuinely surprised, like they were witnessing a miracle. While others—most of them girls—looked like they wanted to rip me to shreds. I didn’t blame them. Being in Owen’s embrace was especially nice, and I couldn’t hide the smile on my face as we made our way to class.
We walked into class together, Owen’s arm still around me, and headed to my desk. He sat on top of the desk as I took my seat. I started to pull out my book, and patted his leg with my hand, signaling him to move. He laughed then stood up.
The office door burst open and Prof. Livingston came stomping through. He settled into his desk and started shuffling through a stack of papers. After a minute, he cleared his throat and looked around the room.
Owen bent down and whispered in my ear. “Wait for me after class.”
I watched as he strutted down the row of desks, across the floor, and disappeared into the office. I felt the stares of everyone around me. Blood rushed to my face, and I shrank into my chair, wishing that I could disappear.
I don’t think anyone paid attention to the day’s lecture. All I could hear were whispers about Owen and me. Time couldn’t move any slower. As soon as the teacher d
ismissed us, I shot out of my seat and was out the door before anyone realized what happened.
I hid around the corner as everyone filed out of the room. Owen was the last one to leave, and he stopped in the middle of the hall, searching for something. When I realized he was looking for me, I stepped out of my hiding spot.
“There you are,” he said, sounding relieved. He came over and put his hands on my arms. “Are you okay?”
“No,” I admitted. His face fell, and he looked unsure of what to say. “Did you happen to notice the way everyone was staring at us all morning long?”
“Yeah, what about it?”
“During the entire lecture, not one person was paying attention. Everyone kept staring at me and whispering about us. Do you have any idea what they were saying?”
“Let them say what they want,” he answered, a touch of pride in his voice. He wrapped his arm around my waist, pulled me to his side, and started to walk.
After a few steps, I stopped. Owen turned to look at me. “It doesn’t bother you that they were talking about us?” I asked.
“No, should it?” He studied me, weighing the situation. “Look,” he continued, “I don’t care what they say or what they think about us. And you shouldn’t care either.”
“They think we’re together,” I replied. “Like, as in, a couple.”
He laughed. “And your point is?” But he wasn’t getting my point at all.
“My point is, is everyone thinks we’re dating!”
“Let them think whatever they want.” He cupped my cheek and looked straight into my eyes. “You and I both know the truth . . . we’re just friends.”
The smile that had started to appear on my face vanished, and I stepped back. A part of me had hoped the whispers were right, and it was nice to pretend, but I knew what they said wasn’t true.
I nodded once and ran out of the building, but Owen soon caught up to me. He matched my pace, step for step, and we walked together in silence. I held my arms around my body, trying to stay warm in the cold air.
Owen sighed next to me before pulling me close. My body tensed for a moment before giving in and wrapping my arm around his torso. When we reached my door, we leaned against the wall and stared at one another.
“Brennan . . .” he said softly.
“Don’t, Owen,” I cut him off. “Let’s not ruin . . . whatever we have right now. Whatever it is, whatever it may be, is good. I don’t want to throw it away.”
“I don’t even know what we have.”
“I don’t either,” I responded. “All I know is that I like when you wrap me in your arms. I don’t want to lose that, okay?”
“I don’t want to lose it either.”
“Good.” I patted his shoulder. “At least we’re on the same page.”
Before anything else could be said, I entered my room and shut the door behind me. I collapsed on top of my bed, and stared up at the ceiling. Amelia was once again gone, but this time I was thankful she wasn’t here. I needed a minute, or five, alone.
But my moment of silence was quickly interrupted by my phone’s shrill ringtone. I let loose a frustrated groan and checked the screen. It was Damon.
“Hello,” I answered, not hiding the irritation in my voice.
“Brenn? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I responded with a clipped tone. “Nothing at all.”
“Uh-huh,” he said. “Don’t think for a second that I’m buying that. Now tell me what’s wrong.”
I sighed, sitting up on my bed, and kicked my flats off. There was no way I could tell my brother about Owen. According to him, I wasn’t allowed to date—ever. Even though Owen and I weren’t dating, Damon would just jump to that conclusion on his own, despite whatever I told him. “Okay,” he continued. “Which guy in the dorm needs an ass-kicking?”
“No one.” I laughed. Okay, I thought, so maybe he didn’t need me to say anything to jump to any conclusions—he does that all on his own. “Did you forget about the promise I made to Reagan?”
“Oh, you mean the one where you swore off guys for an eternity,” he teased. “Like you expect me to believe that’ll ever happen.”
“A year!” I said defensively. “It’s only for a year, and I have every intention sticking to it. You know how much it means to me.”
My brother’s hearty chuckle echoed. “If I had it my way, it would be for eternity.”
“If you had it your way, you’d ship me off to convent,” I replied.
He laughed again.
“Yeah, I probably would.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “But seriously, Brennan, what’s wrong?”
I wanted to tell my brother about Owen, but I knew he’d overreact. I also knew he would have some brotherly advice on the situation. It’d probably be something along the lines of “Kick him to the curb!” or “I’m coming to kill the boy messing with my sister.” So it wasn’t exactly advice he’d offer, but Damon was who I told everything to. My confident. He’d been my best friend since the accident.
“I’m fine . . . I promise.” I tried to assure him. “Just stressed about finals next week.”
“Dead week,” he said. “Now that’s something I don’t miss about college.”
“Tell me about it,” I said, dreading what the next week entailed.
“Take a deep breath and relax,” my brother said. “The most important thing to remember is not to stress.” Yeah, like that wasn’t going to happen. “Dead week is what you make of it. Take breaks, keep a stash of gummy bears nearby, and drink a lot of coffee.”
I laughed and shook my head. “Gummy bears?”
“Trust me on this,” he reaffirmed. “Gummy bears. Lots and lots of gummy bears.”
“Gummy bears and coffee, got it,” I said, laughing to myself. “Anything else?”
“Unless your roommate is a genius and willing to take your exams for you, then I’ve got nothing,” he joked.
Amelia was pretty intelligent, and definitely smarter than she let on, but I was pretty sure my professors would noticed if I suddenly grew a few inches, dyed my hair dark brown, and decided that showing as much cleavage as I could was my new style. No, there was no way Amelia could take my place, so I was on my own with finals. I wasn’t too worried, except for my calculus exam. That class could kick rocks for all I cared.
“Thanks for the tip, jackass,” I said. My brother laughed, and then I heard a voice in the background—a woman’s voice. “Who’s that?”
“Who’s who?” Damon said quickly.
“I thought I heard a chick in the background.” All I got was silence in response. I gasped, and started to giggle. “It is a chick, isn’t it? You’ve got a lady friend over, don’t you? What’s her name? How long has she been coming over? It’s a miracle, ladies and gentleman, my brother has a girlfriend!” I said, rambling like crazy.
“Whoa!” my brother exclaimed. “Lindsay is just a friend.”
“Uh-huh,” I teased, noting the emphasis in his words. “And this friend, is she pretty?”
“Very,” he answered softly. “Listen, I better go. You’ll be home for Christmas, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there.” I replied. “Have fun with your friend. And remember: use protection, or else Mom will kill you!”
“Protection, right.” My brother sounded flustered, perhaps a little embarrassed. “No need for that.”
“I’m sure . . .” I teased. “All right, love ya.”
“You too, Brenn. And remember, don’t stress. Just do the best you can. Bye.”
I heard the phone click. I stared at the screen and whispered, “Bye, Damon.”
I pulled out my laptop, and decided to get a head start on cramming. I laid on my stomach, feet sticking up in the air, and slipped on my headphones. I clicked through the playlist “Reagan’s Songs,” the one with our favorite songs on it. “Mambo No. 5” by Lou Bega popped up first. I contemplated changing the song, but remembered all the times Reag
an and I listened to it and let it play.
I cranked the volume up and pretended to be back in my room at home. The two of us had our hair pulled into side ponytails at the top of our heads, like we were filming a ’80s movie. We wore headbands, neon-bright leggings, and bright tank tops. The both of us held hairbrushes in our hands, and we took turn belting out the lyrics.
I closed my eyes, bobbing my head, moving my feet from side to side, and let the memory consume me. Something about the beat of the song was so catchy that I just couldn’t contain myself. I unplugged my headphones, snatched a hairbrush off the desk, and started to dance around the room.
“A little bit of Moni—”
I was cut off by the door opening.
Amelia and Callen stood in the entrance, laughing at me. I felt the heat rush to my face, tossed the brush aside, and reached down to mute the song.
“Please don’t stop on our account,” Amelia teased.
She crossed the room, grinning from ear to ear. Callen closed the door behind him. She sat down on her bed and looked at me. I sank down on the edge of my bed, completely humiliated.
“It’s been ages since I’ve heard that song,” Callen said, sitting next to Amelia.
He didn’t sit close to her, and it wasn’t the first time he sat on her bed, but it struck me as odd. I didn’t realize they hung out without me. Not that I had to be with them for them to hang out. I’d just never realized they had struck up a friendship outside of me. Ridiculous, I know.
Callen glanced at Amelia, the look in his eyes odd. It was a look of absolute adoration, and I wondered if something more was going on between them. Of course, I knew there wasn’t. If there was one thing I knew about Amelia, it was that she wasn’t about to be tied down to a committed relationship. A laugh escaped past my lips.
“What’s so funny?” Amelia asked.
“Oh, n-nothing,” I stammered. I wasn’t about to tell her that I thought the two of them had it going on, certainly not with Callen sitting there. “Just embarrassed about being caught,” I lied.
“Girl, you were busting some moves that I’ve never seen before!”
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