I breathe out.
“Thank you,” I say. My lips feel loose. Better hold on to the table just in case.
Gwenna’s pretty green eyes are very wide.
“You’re so pretty,” I add.
They go even wider.
“What?” Her voice is low, hushed.
Oh. She didn’t hear me? Okay. “I said, you’re so?—”
Gwenna darts a hand out and grabs my wrist. “You can’t say things like that, Lanz,” she hisses. “Come on.”
I love the way her touch feels. It’s so good, like a drug, like the opposite of that ripping-in-half chest pain and then some.
But she’s right. She’s right.
“You’re right,” I say out loud. “You’re right, you’re right. I’m just saying because…”
The slow-motion numbing effect of her touch is making my head spin. My thoughts are like little distant flashes of light, trying to find each other in the dark.
“…because Callahan likes you.”
Where the hell didthatcome from?I wonder, vaguely.
“Helikesyou likes you,” I clarify. “I know he does.”
Gwenna’s face is blank. Maybe she didn’t hear me? Maybe I should give her more detail.
“He’s a virgin, you know,” I lower my voice.
“Lanz—”
“I mean, with girls. He’s the only one who is. Of all of us.”
“I really think you need to not be telling me this, Lanz.”
“No, right, but…”
I do, though, I think.
Because I love him. I love Cal even though I shouldn’t.
And I love her. I love her even though it will literally kill me. I love her because I am helpless.
You are dust. And to dust you shall return.
TWENTY-THREE
GWENNA
Later that day,I watch as Morgan sits cross-legged on her bed and rips open a bag of Funyuns.
“I hate Lent,” she announces, through a mouthful of fried dried onion flakes, or whatever’s actually in there. She swallows, then shakes the bag in my direction. “You want?”
I shake my head. “No thanks.”
