“Alana didn’t care…” I muttered underneath my breath. “Not until that day.”
“Then maybe she’s more running from herself than she’s running from you,” Mom said. “Did you consider that?”
53
ALANA
The days bled together in shades of grey.
It wasn’t just the weather—though New City seemed determined to match my mood—but the way time passed without Eden.
There was no fun in my life, no spark, no sarcastic text at 1:00 a.m. reminding me to sleep or asking me what kind of muffin he should attempt to burn next. Just… silence. Deafening, heavy silence.
I told myself I was doing the right thing. That I needed to focus on school, on finishing the semester strong. That cutting him off was necessary. But each day I walked through campus with my books hugged to my chest, I felt the weight of everything I hadn’t said pressing harder.
Austin caught up with me on Tuesday after class.
“Hey, Alana,” he said, flashing the same practiced grin he always wore. The kind that thought it could charm its way through walls. And maybe it would’ve worked on me once upon a time.
I offered a tight smile, barely glancing up. “Hey.”
“You going to the end-of-term party on Friday?” he asked, walking a little too close to me for my liking.
“No.”
“You should. I’ll be there.” His voice dipped slightly, the implication obvious. “We could hang out, just the two of us.”
I stopped walking. “Austin,” I said plainly, “I’m not interested.”
He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m just saying… seems like you could use a distraction.”
I didn’t reply. I just kept walking.
But his words stuck with me more than I wanted them to.
Was that what I was to Eden in the beginning? A distraction? A temporary deal with an expiration date? I told myself it had all been fake, but every time I closed my eyes, I saw the way he looked at me when I laughed. When I ranted about a book I loved. When I let my guard down.
That hadn’t felt fake.
Maybe that’s what scared me.
I spent most of Wednesday in the library, headphones in, but no music playing. I just needed people to leave me alone.
Eden used to do this thing whenever he spotted me in the library. He’d walk past me when I was working, drop off some stupid snack with a dumb note, and walk away without a word. Like I was some kind of museum exhibit he didn’t want to disturb but couldn’t ignore.
I missed that. I missedhim.
And I hated myself for it.
Because I was the one who pushed him away.
I should’ve known better. I should’ve listened to him. But I didn’t.
Instead, I threw his past in his face. Well, what am I supposed to think about someone with a reputation like yours?
The words echoed in my mind constantly now. I hated how smug they had sounded. How cruel. As if I hadn’t spent months learning there was more to Eden than his past. As if I hadn’t fallen for him—fully, deeply, stupidly.
Thursday came with rain. The kind that soaked your clothes no matter how fast you ran. I stood under the awning outside one of the lecture halls, watching people dash across campus, and wondered if it was raining in Staten Island, too, and if Eden was rushing wherever he went.
