“Okay,” he said, maybe wondering why I suddenly had to be out of the room.
The moment I was down my creaky stairs, I pressed both hands over my heart and exhaled. After a few more breaths, I felt better, calmer. My head was clearer, too. Maybe I’d been breathing in his cologne or something. That should be my next rule: no hanging around guys who smell like heaven. Or play me Bruno Mars. I really needed to make a list.
I grabbed my coat and was back in my bedroom a few minutes later, but Henry wasn’t down on the rug where I’d left him. He was in the corner by the window, his phone at his ear.
“Yeah.” He paused to laugh then noticed me. “Okay, okay, but look, I gotta go. See you later.”
I glanced at my alarm clock. “Who was that?” I couldn’t help asking.
“My father.”
“It’s three in the morning.”
“Not where he is.”
I folded the coat across my bag. “You’re not spending the holidays with your family?”
“I am,” he said. “I just remembered something that I wanted to run by him.”
I sat down on the rug. “But you didn’t spend Thanksgiving with them,” I suddenly remembered. I hadn’t gone home because home was depressing, but why hadn’t Henry left?
“It wasn’t worth traveling overseas,” he explained, taking his same spot at my side on the floor. “During the shorter breaks, I sometimes go to my extended family in LA and Washington, cousins, aunts, grandfather.” He shrugged. “Or sometimes I’ll go with Dart to New York. So, anything happening downstairs?” he asked, turning on a new song.
Why did I get the feeling he was trying to change the subject?
“Dead quiet,” I reported, leaning back against the bed frame. “Anabel is out for the night, and I’m guessing Julia is with Dart at his place or they’re in her room.”
“Really?”
“You sound surprised.”
“No, I…” He scratched his chin. “She was over earlier today and I caught part of their conversation. I didn’t think they were hanging out tonight.”
I almost laughed. Julia had been looking forward to tonight all week. She’d even had another “chat” with Anabel, though who knows what came of that. I couldn’t help feeling excited for Julia.
“Why are you smiling?” Henry asked.
“Oh.” I cleared my throat. “Nothing, nothing. What song is this? Turn it up.”
…
Sounds from the street had ceased hours ago. Henry laid stomach-down on my bed with his head hanging over the edge, while I lolled comfortably on the floor. I could hear his even pattern of breathing above and thought he was asleep.
Which was why his question startled me. “What do you want out of life?” he asked.
“Pass.” I cracked one eye open to find him frowning down at me. “Topics like that are outlawed for us, remember? No more arguing.”
He bent his elbows and placed them flat on my bed, chin on top of his hands. “I’d really like to know, though. Tell me.” He chuckled and rubbed his eyes, adding, “Please?”
From his tone, I knew it wasn’t wittiness he was after, it was information. I could give him that. “Well, if you must know, I want to change the world.”
Even though it was dark, I could see he was smiling. “That’s a pretty tall order. Do you have a plan? Besides spreading the joys of sustainability, I mean.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “That’s definitely step one. And since step one could take the next twenty years, I might stick with it for a while.”
Henry laughed quietly and ran a hand over his face. “I like your answer very much,” he said, his eyes following me as I sat up. “And I use the word like because I can’t think of another verb to do the sentiment justice.”
I smiled in the dark, amused at how I’d grown so used to his verbal formality.
“I’m all for you changing the world,” he added.
I couldn’t help feeling a little glow, and was grateful for the dimness of the room in case I was blushing. “Speaking of change, it’s getting late.” I handed him his crumpled scarf that I’d been using as a pillow. “Or early, I mean.” I flexed my bare feet out in front of me. “We’re both leaving in, like, two hours.”
“Right,” Henry said, running his index finger and thumb over his eyelids. “I guess I should go now.” I didn’t think he’d actually been asleep, but he did seem distracted again, like there was something he wanted to say but hadn’t. He’d behaved the same way when he’d climbed through my window six hours ago.
He slid off the bed and onto the floor beside me. After a yawn and stretch, he bent forward, leaning across my legs. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, until I realized he was reaching for his shoes.
His left shoulder pressed against my right. Even in the half-dark, the definition in his reaching arm caught my attention. Tight tendons stood out on the inside of his elbow and forearm as ropes of muscles flexed and contracted every time he moved. His T-shirt stretched against the hard ball of his bicep. I didn’t see Henry in short sleeves often due to chilly Bay Area weather. I was enjoying the view.
He grabbed his shoes and straightened, his shoulder still touching mine. I bent my knees and scooted a few inches back, giving us both a little space. Henry eyed me as I moved away.
“Before I leave,” he said, fumbling with the laces on one shoe, “I’d like to tell you something—two things, actually, if you don’t mind.”
His voice sounded thick, hesitant, and his cadence was more formal than usual. I excused this, blaming it on how we’d just stayed up all night even after a week’s worth of stressful finals.
When he lifted his brown eyes to me, there was a softness in them that I recognized. The next thing I knew, it was like we were back in his hallway, legs entangled on the floor, Henry’s hand on my arm. But this time, my music was playing in the background, we were on a sheepskin rug, totally alone, no roommates to disturb us, no Lilah to interrupt.
“What,” I whispered, “do you want to tell me?”
I thought I knew. I hoped I knew. I was petrified that I knew.
Henry scooted forward, and I automatically leaned in to meet him. Part of my brain thought it was strange how I wasn’t trying to stop, while another part was relieved beyond belief.
He blinked his long lashes and pulled back an inch. “What was that?” he whispered.
“What was what?”
Henry’s eyes flashed to the window, both of us hearing the same rustling from the other side. “Wait,” he cautioned as I rose to investigate. I felt him hold the back of my shirt for just a second, maybe cautioning me, but I didn’t heed the warning.
The first thing I noticed was that I’d forgotten to haul in the ladder after Henry had been working on it earlier tonight. I hadn’t locked the window on the inside, either. I stood before the glass and peered outside. It was pitch black at almost five in the morning, no hint of sunrise. Only my reflection showed as I slid open the glass and leaned over the ledge.
A wet pair of lips crashed against mine.
I gasped and hit the back of my head on the frame, staggering away from the window.
“How’s the sexiest girl on campus?” Alex was halfway through the window before I could do anything.
“Stop,” I hissed. “What are you doing here?”
“On my way back to the Frat house. Saw your shades open.” Effortlessly, in swung his legs, followed by his lanky body. “Thought I’d drop on in, ya know? Like old times.” Grinning ear to ear, he bowed, his long arms going to my waist. I could smell a fraternity party on his breath and clothes.
“Alex, don’t,” I growled, pushing my elbows against his chest. I had not forgotten who was behind me, witnessing from a front row seat. Freeing myself as much as I could, I turned around, hoping, actually, for a little help.
But Henry just stood there, his jacket draped over one shoulder, staring at me.
In his altered state, it took Alex a few seconds longer to
notice Henry. When he did, he chortled softly and swayed back on his heels. “On your way out, Knightly?” he slurred, his voice a mixture of laughter, smugness, and nerve as he threw one arm around me. “I’ll take it from here. Buh-bye.”
A muscle jerked in Henry’s jaw, but he was no longer looking at me. “Leave,” he said. His voice sounded threatening, and the look in his eyes was more than hostile.
But Alex didn’t move. He was actually…smiling.
Henry’s eyes shifted to mine. “Tell him to leave your house and never come back.”
“Why?” I couldn’t help asking, a little alarmed by his sudden aggression. I mean, I knew they had a history, bad blood and all that. And Alex waltzing through my window was certainly unwanted and a little creepy, but that was my problem, not his.
Henry didn’t answer me for a moment; maybe attempting to control his anger. “Spring,” he finally said, echoes of his stern, lecturing voice that drove me insane, “tell him to go. You do not want to be alone with him.”
I was about to ask him why again, but the fury on his face made me stop. When he released a sharp exhale and glared at Alex, I knew my words weren’t needed. So I stood still, not knowing what to expect. A fight? Would some punches be thrown? Maybe I’d hear some impressive swearing out of Henry.
But without a word, he turned and was gone out the door. Temporarily paralyzed, I could only stare after him, expecting him to reappear, hoping he would reappear. But then I heard the front door slam and my stomach hit the floor.
“Good riddance, douchebag.”
“Hey,” I growled, swinging around, torn between running after Henry and dealing with Alex. When Alex grinned, folded his arms, and leaned against my desk, the priority was clear.
“How dare you just show up here?”
“Come on, Spring,” he slurred.
“No, listen to me. This is totally inappropriate. He’s right, you need to leave.”
Alex snorted. “Why?”
I was too exhausted to get into anything heavy with him and too bewildered by Henry’s behavior. He said I shouldn’t be alone with Alex, and yet hadn’t he just taken off and left us alone? I would think about that later. Right now, I needed this presumptuous frat boy out of my bedroom.
“Alex, you’re drunk. Go home and sleep it off.” I just wanted him gone, the smell of him, the sight of him…all of him, just gone. I was almost willing to drive him back to the frat house myself, but after a moment, he shrugged and began crawling out the window.
Not trusting him to actually go, I kept my eyes on him the whole way down the ladder, never losing track until he stumbled around the corner. Then my gaze automatically shifted to the house across the street. Henry’s bedroom light was on and it looked as though the blinds had just moved back into place. My impulse was to slide down the ladder and try to explain myself, explain that I didn’t make it a habit to let Alex Parks—or any guy—in my bedroom at five in the morning. But before I could get one leg through the window, his light went out.
Chapter 17
“Was your whole family home for New Years?” I asked, reaching to take the plate Julia was holding. “All six kids?”
“Yep,” she answered, then clicked her tongue. “Yes-sir-ree bob.” She kicked the empty dishwasher closed. It wasn’t a violent action, and yet it was. Julia was seldom moody. It was probably jetlag—she’d landed pretty late last night. Or maybe it was the stress of the upcoming semester. Classes were starting again in two days.
“How was your vacation?” she asked as she walked around the kitchen, mindlessly opening and closing drawers. “Did you have a nice time at home?” The lilt in her voice was forced. She grabbed a sponge and began scrubbing the already clean sink.
I sighed at her question. My family—not exactly my favorite subject. But Julia didn’t seem to want to talk about her Christmas vacation, so I pulled up a bar stool and sat, drumming my fingers on the island. “My mother apologized the entire time, thinking there weren’t enough gifts under the tree. Like any of us cared.”
Julia nodded, scrubbing away at nothing. She hadn’t bothered pushing up her sleeves, so they hung over her hands, soaking wet. It was then that I noticed she was wearing the baggy pants to a tracksuit and a faded black T-shirt with a gray long-sleeved shirt underneath. Her hair was tied in a loose ponytail. No socks, no shoes, no makeup.
“Robby and Curtis were completely obsessed with the high school playoffs,” I continued for the sake of conversation. “I love my brothers, but they really do drive me mad.”
Julia didn’t answer, didn’t seem to be listening. I watched as she cleaned both sides of the sink, ran the disposal with nothing in it, held the sponge under hot water, rang it out, then tossed it in the dish drainer.
“Oh, and get this.” I slid off the stool and leaned against the counter. “They went to visit my dad, my brothers did.” I paused and stared at Julia, waiting for a reaction. After a moment, she lifted her eyebrows. “I know, right? So random.” I straightened a row of mugs. “I guess he wants to make amends or whatever. He’s getting remarried this summer. I don’t know. They wanted me to go to visit him too, but no way. Not after all this time.”
It still stung when I thought about it. Robby, Curtis and I were supposed to be in it together, a team against getting hurt by Dad again. If they wanted to reconcile, I guess it was just me now.
“Anyway,” I added, not wanting the bitterness to spoil my mood, “we didn’t kill each other, and there was hardly any blood.” I smiled. “So all in all, it was a successful Honeycutt holiday.”
Julia lifted a smile at the conclusion of my familial anecdotes. It was forced and insincere, but at least she was no longer scrubbing her fingers raw. She bent over the sink, eyes closed. Some of her hair spilled forward, falling loose from the sloppy ponytail. Her shoulders were lifting and falling, very measured breathing, and I wondered if she was contemplating being sick.
Okay, this was no jetlag. She’d seemed okay when I was talking, so I reached for a new subject. “Where’s Anabel?” I asked. Our social butterfly roommate’s calendar was probably already full, even on the day she returned from vacation. Evidently my question was rhetorical, because Julia broached her own.
“Have you heard from Alex?” she asked, picking up that over-used sponge.
I yanked it from her hand.
She turned to me, puzzled. “Well?”
“Well, what?” I tossed the annihilated sponge in the trash.
“Alex?” she prompted.
“Oh. Uh, no. But actually, I’m inviting him over tonight.” My stomach made a roll, as I wasn’t too jazzed about seeing him. The winter break was only two weeks long, but in those two weeks, I’d made a couple of decisions, decisions that still surprised me. Alex would need to know about one of them, since it involved him, and someone else we both knew.
“Tonight?” Julia asked.
“I’m giving you a heads up because I know you and Dart don’t feel comfortable around him. You might want to hang out across the street.”
Julia’s face went all scrunchy, and I saw the first tear.
“What’s wrong?”
Her hands flew to her face, covering her eyes, sobs breaking from her throat. “And I thought it was weird,” she began, already in the middle of a story, “to not hear anything all that time.” She backed into a corner of the kitchen and slumped to the floor. I joined her, sitting on my knees.
“It didn’t work,” she muttered tearily. “It just didn’t work.”
I hadn’t noticed before, but her eyes were bloodshot with dark circles rimming the bottom lids. Looking at her made me wince. “What didn’t work?” I asked.
“She told me to play hard to get, but…but…”
“Who told you?” I asked, touching her shoulder.
“But I think it made him mad. I don’t know what…what happened.” The last word barely squeaked out before the weeping took over.
“Bunny, it’s okay.”
�
��No, it’s not. Because he didn’t call me, not for a week.”
“Who?” I wasn’t following her at all now.
“I mean, we’ve been together every day for four months. Every day, Spring. And then he doesn’t call for a week? Not even on Christmas.” She sobbed through a sarcastic snort of laughter. “Who does that?”
“Oh.” Dread rolled in my stomach. “Dart?”
She sniffed and nodded. “So I finally called him. I mean, I can, right? I’m allowed. This isn’t nineteen fifty.”
“Sure,” I said, trying my best to follow.
Julia yanked down a dishtowel from the sink. “At first he didn’t say much of anything,” she said, wiping her cheeks. “But I know him, Spring. I know him.” She shot a fierce look at me. “He’s in my blood! I gave him everything, every part of me. Do you understand?”
I nodded, even though I had no idea what she meant.
What I did know was this: In the four months they were together, I’d never seen two people happier or more compatible than Julia and Dart. To anyone who was fortunate enough to be caught in their love wake, it was obvious these two people were made for each other. Dart may have been more animated about it, but I knew Julia’s heart—its tenderness, its complete devotion—and I knew it belonged to Dart.
“He said…he said he thought we should take some time apart,” she continued, her lower lip wobbling. “I was shocked; I didn’t know what to say.” Misery and fear blazed behind her eyes. “I don’t need time. I need Dart.” Her lips sealed in a broken frown. “We shared things, Spring, new things.” She lowered her head, voice dropping. “Something I can never get back.”
Oh. So they had slept together. No wonder she was so shattered. First love, first sex. My heart broke for her all over again as my mind raced, searching for answers. It didn’t make sense, though. First of all, why would Dart not call for a week and then breakup over the phone? Not at all his M.O.
“Je ne sais pas…Je ne sais pas,” Julia murmured as she crumpled into a ball, hugging her body.
I did my best to calm her, floundering words of comfort and encouragement about men snapping back like rubber bands, but honestly, I was just as confused.
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