While we’re going back and forth about what I should be doing, JJ’s crabby friend Hart approaches us.
“I can help. You shouldn’t miss Eric’s swim.” Hart says to Liz, crossing his arms.
She was blown away when he invited her. Her crush on him has lasted two years. I don’t want to be the reason she doesn’t go.
No one needs to help me.
Hart’s face hardens further. “I insist.”
I really don’t like the way he said that. Like I’m a problem he needs to take care of.
Conceding to the change in plans, I apologize to Liz again before she hurries away.
Alone with Hart, I’m nervous as hell. Maybe it’s his regal good looks, his haughty air, or the way he speaks as though everyone is beneath him.
Hastily, I reserve a rideshare. He’s watching me closely as we walk back to the gatehouse. My legs are unsteady, and I’m slightly dizzy, but I firmly refuse to show weakness in front of him, afraid of how he’d respond.
“It’s interesting that you’ve become a part of so many of my friends’ lives, and I don’t know a thing about you,” he says, barely looking at me.
Concentrate on your steps. Keep the strain out of your voice.
“What do you want to know?”
He stops, shoving his hands into his pockets. Squinting at me, he replies, “See, that’s the thing. Idon’twant to know anything about you. I think I know what you’re up to.”
What does that even mean?
I fight back tears, keeping my eyes trained on the ground. In a tired voice I ask, “Up to? Like I have an agenda for making friends?”
“Why have you been on campus so much?”
He doesn’t let up.
I can’t explain my appointments with Dr. Fraine to him. Not that I’d want to.
We’ve reached the gatehouse. He half-blocks the doors, his arms crossed. I get the sense he’d like me to disappear from his life, but I’m not about to tell him that I won’t be. Besides my growing affection for JJ and Ripp, I’m not ready to give up on life. “Well, I-I…” I swallow. “There is research work for school that I’m doing.”
Narrowing his eyes even further, he asks, “For your major at Cornell?”
Oh, shit.
One thing I’ve learned about Hart is that he isn’t trusting, and he definitely isn’t dumb.
“Um, I’m an Art History major. There’s a lot of rare art I’ve been studying here.” The lie gains a little credibility when I remember JJ mentioning his favorite painting.
“When I was younger, I...”
He cuts me off with a flick of his hand. “I don’t need your whole life story. Yes or no?”
All I can do is nod at the scowling jerk.
My steps toward the bathroom are heavy. I keep my hands pressed to my sides. Looking into the mirror, the words coming out of my mouth don’t match what I see in my eyes. “I’m okay. I’m okay. This is just a bump in the road. I’m okay.”
Except it’s all falling apart. My hopeful facade.
By the time I climb into the backseat of the rideshare, my legs are nearly giving out. Pain radiates from my chest into my back, leaving me wheezing. I’m only grateful I managed to hold it together around Hart, certain he’d use my failing health against me.
Rippley weaves his fingers through mine, smiling down at me. I want to smile back and mean it but yesterday has me worried. Even though I’m doing fine today, it may not last.
