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He frowned. “That’s what the doctor said?”
“No, but they can’t prove it.”
He studied the floor, his head shaking. “Well, I guess that’s my fault too, then.” His head tilted. “I got involved with your brother. He wouldn’t have even done that haze and tried to get into my crew had I not been fucking with you and him.”
“No more your fault than mine.” I nodded when he shook his head. “You and I…”
“Yeah?”
I shouldn’t have looked at him in that moment, my mouth dry. “We’re what you said. We fuck around. We fuck with each other, and people get affected by that.”
We really were chaos, madness.
“Maybe.” His shoulders lifted. “But it doesn’t always have to be that way. We can be whatever we want.”
“How?” We’d only been one way; he’d only been one way. “Why did you leave me?”
I hadn’t meant to ask that.
But the words were said.
I put them out there, and they hung between us. My throat tightened. “Where did you go, Dorian?”
I asked him this, but I didn’t want a physical place. I knew he’d been with his family, but I needed to know the why. He’d left me both physically and mentally.
That was what I asked.
I wasn’t sure if he got that, and when soft music played from somewhere in the stands, he faced me.
“Dance with me,” he said, putting out his hand. “Make this a real date.”
The plea in his tone matched his eyes. I didn’t want to dance with him. I wanted to run away and take back what I’d asked.
Instead, I took his hand.
Dorian helped me back on the field, and when he placed me in his arms, I hated how familiar that felt. I hated how it felt like home. I wanted it to feel as dark and foreign as how he’d initially been in my life. I didn’t want to feel comfort in our madness.
But I did. I felt warm…
I even felt safe.
He felt as soothing around me as he always had, and I hated that.
“Number twenty.”
I gazed up, my gaze clashing with his. “What?”
“Where I went was number twenty.” His throat jumped. “Where I went… Why I left was reason number twenty why I’m fucked up. It’s not blank like my last note.”
He stopped our sway, gentle music playing around us. I gauged now it was playing from the stadium’s speakers.
“And it’s not the last reason I am.” His throat jumped. “It’s not, but it’s a big one. Maybe even the biggest.”
His breath was shallow, weighted as he took my hands.
“When things get real, I don’t handle it. It’s easier not to trust my instincts. It’s easier to question shit even when shit is good. Even when…” He blinked. “I question everything. I don’t trust myself to do the right thing. I always fuck up like with that shit with Charlie.”
“Dorian…”
