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"Don't beat yourself up over the past," I hitch a shoulder. "I don't hate you, Cash. I just don't want to be someone I'm not."
"I won't let you," he whispers as he moves closer. "I'm not going to disappoint you anymore."
I don't want him to touch me. I don't want him to need me. I don't want him to be here, trying to prove that he's different. I don't want him to give up his future.
I want Wilder.
But I don't think that's going to happen now. Not after everything Cash has revealed.
"You should go see Wilder," I suggest.
Cash gnaws on his lower lip. "Will you walk down with me? I, um, I'm afraid he might punch me in the face for being a terrible friend. If you're there, he might think twice about violence."
"Yeah," I say half-heartedly.
We walk slowly, Cash's arm bumping into mine every few steps. I don't want to show up on Wilder's doorstep next to his best friend. But I need to see Wilder. Just a glimpse. Just a moment.
Cash knocks on the front door and takes a step back. I cross my arms over my chest and wait, my heart thumping against bone and flesh.
The door creaks open and Wilder sees me first. His face is solid stone, his emotions a wall of impenetrable rock.
"Hey," Cash steps into his view. "Before you punch me, I want to apologize."
Wilder's eyes slide from me to his best friend. "You don't owe me an apology."
"I left without saying goodbye, and I'm sorry. I was a shitty friend, and I'm sorry."
"Did you just say shitty?" Wilder raises his eyebrows.
"Seemed like the best word to describe myself," Cash admits.
"I'm sure you had your reasons," Wilder lets him off the hook. Too easy, in my opinion.
"My parents kicked me out," Cash explains. "I'm not going to Johns Hopkins. Paying my tuition was their way of holding everything over my head. I don't have anywhere else to go. I thought—I was hoping—I could crash here until I get a job and save up for a deposit on an apartment."
"They kicked you out?" Wilder shakes his head in disbelief.
"Yeah," Cash answers. "They've been doing some shady things, and I can't take it anymore. That's why I came back early. I can't keep running from them. I told Ingrid that you guys are my real family. The two of you."
My heart sinks as Wilder refuses to look at me.
"Yeah, you can stay here," Wilder stands back to let him in.
Cash takes a few steps forward, then turns to me. "You coming?"
"I-I, uh..." I stutter.
"Blondie can find her way home," Wilder coldly interjects.
My chest burns with blinding pain.
"No," Cash steps between us. "If she's not welcome here, then I'm not staying."
"It's fine," I force out. "I have stuff to do anyway."
Cash holds a hand out and I awkwardly touch his fingers. "I meant what I said. I'm not going to disappoint you again."
Wilder's mask slips for a split second as his eyes flash with pain. But then, he rearranges his features. Indifference. That's all I'm ever going to get out of him, isn't it?
