“Oh, fuck off,” I snap back harshly, instantly pissed at the assumption. “I didn’t take anything.”
“Then what the fuck are they there for?” Clearly, he doesn’t believe me.
“Those aren’t for me. They were for…someone else,” I say sheepishly. I don’t owe him an explanation. “What the fuck are you even doing here?”
Marcus huffs an angry sigh. “Dude. You’ve been MIA fordays. No one’s been able to get ahold of you. Your mom is worried fucking sick. You haven’t returned her calls. She’s two seconds away from booking a flight to come up here.”
I groan, dragging a hand down my face, and reach over to grab my phone off the bedside table where it’s been lying face down on the charger on silent. Immediately, the screen comes to life with a million and one notifications of missed calls and text messages—some from Marcus, the guys, my mother—and even a few from Tiff. Glaringly, one name is noticeably absent from the cacophony—Luke. Hestillhasn’t called or texted me back. It stings just as sharply.
At the very least, I click on the texts from my mom, reading through the never-ending stream of pokes and prods where sheasks me to call her or at least pick up the damn phone in various threatening ways. It ends with a very typical Elaine Carlson warning, all in caps:SO HELP ME GOD, IF YOU’RE DEAD, I’LL KILL YOU.
I tap out a simple reply of,not dead, then turn the screen off and toss the phone back on the bedside table. At the very least, she’ll know not to keep worrying—though I know I’ll get an earful about how terrible of a response that was later.
Glaring up at Marcus again, I feel a well of anger bubbling up inside me. It might be misguided, but at least it’s better than being numb. Dare I call that progress?
“Did you break into my fucking house?” I ask, knowing that I locked all the doors, not wanting to be disturbed.
“It’s not breaking in if you have a spare key, asshole,” Marcus snaps. “I was afraid I would come up here and find you dead. You scared the shit out of me, man.”
“Congratulations. I’m not dead. Now you can kindly fuck off.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Whatisn’twrong with me? But it’s nothing Marcus would understand. I’m not about to tell him the truth now—not when it doesn’t even matter anymore. Luke and I are done. He’s made it pretty fucking clear that’s how he feels, anyway. Now Marcus never even needs to know we were dating. I’ll never need to come out at all. Problem solved.
“It doesn’t matter. Now, please leave. And leave the key on your way out,” I grumble, rolling over and pulling the covers to my chin. I close my eyes. “I’m fine.”
Marcus scoffs. “Like hell you are. And since when do you have a cat?” he asks just as Misty meows, leaping up from the floor and sitting on the edge of the bed. Great. Yet another thing I can’t explain.
“Marcus, I will literally pay you a million dollars toleave me the fuck alone!” I shout. I know it’s a step too far. I know it’s ahorrible thing to tell my best friend. But I’m not in the mood to be judged and criticized for things he doesn’t understand.
There’s no response. The room goes quiet, and for a minute, I think Marcus might actually be considering the offer—like maybe he’s finally ready to give up on me and my bullshit. With an offer for that kind of money, who could resist the temptation? Then I hear him sigh and walk across the room. I don’t open my eyes. I don’t want to watch him disappear through the door, leaving me in my misery. I expect to hear his footsteps fading down the stairs. Except they don’t.
Instead, the other side of the bed dips suddenly as he sits down beside me. I open my eyes and watch as he puts his feet up and settles in, sitting with his back against the headboard, his arms folded over his chest. Despite everything, I’m relieved.
“You get a pass on that because you’re hurting.” Marcus glares down at me. “You’re lucky I love you, asshole.”
“You really shouldn’t,” I grumble. All of the fight has been zapped out of me, my anger dissipating, sinking back to grief. So much for progress.
“Jesus. I haven’t seen you this self-deprecating in awhile.Why are you suddenly so depressed? What happened?”
I don’t answer. I can’t. I wouldn’t even begin to know how to explain it.
Then Marcus says something that stops my heart midbeat.
“Did you and Luke break up or something?”
I freeze, and I think I’ve stopped breathing. Slowly, I turn my head and look Marcus in the eye, and I see he’s dead serious. He’s not suggesting it as a joke or a silly prod to lighten my mood. He knows. Marcusknows.
“How did you….” I ask hesitantly. My head is spinning with the revelation.
“Dude.” Marcus arches a brow at me accusatorially. “You’ve been doing a pretty bad job of hiding it.”
My cheeks flush, and I look away, a sudden surge of shame washing over me.
“How long have you known?” I ask softly.
“Officially? The morning of Ryder’s birthday party.” Marcus smirks. “When I came to check on you, I walked in and saw the two of you sleeping together on the couch.”
