Page 60 of Embrace

“You don’t have to be nice. I know it was a dumb idea anyway.”

“It’s not. Of course you want to see him. That’s your dad.”

“But he’s not. I have a great dad. I should be happy with that.”

“You can want two things, Scar. You’ve known that part of him that you loved, and you just want to believe it’s still there.”

I realize now that even though he read my letter, and I was upset, it feels easier this way, like he’s known me forever.

I hiccup a breath. “I don’t think it is. All these years…I wastedsomuch time.”

“No, you didn’t,” he says. “Maybe he read them, maybe he didn’t, but you tried, and that’s worth everything.”

His response surprises me. No one has tried to understand where I’m coming from. My mom never thought it was a good idea, and she didn’t understand why I would want that. But with Kian, there’s no need for explanations.

“But now I feel likethis.” I choke out the last word. “I feel gross.”

“Please don’t say that, Scar. This has nothing to do with you. He would be lucky to have a chance to talk to you.”

“Can you take me home?” I ask him. I can’t be alone. Sierra is away for a competition, and staying alone in Iona sounds terrible.

He nods.

Twenty-one

Kian

I could stareat this girl forever.

Shit, is that weird?

My gaze is drawn to Scarlett’s sleeping figure by some magnetic force. Her long braid curls on my pillow. I tuck the loose strands away from her face, careful not to wake her. She looks good here. In my bed. Safe.

The vinyl she chose plays softly. I told her I could turn it off, that she might sleep better, but she refused. Now I smile listening to sound of a smooth guitar.

It’s difficult to bring my focus back to where I sit, slipping on my socks at the edge of the bed.

My phone buzzes for the third time since it first jolted me awake. I thought I was dreaming. A rare, good one that I never seem to have, but then I opened my eyes, and she was still there.

Scarlett stirs, mumbling something unintelligible that I wish I could decode. I know more about her than anyone else, yet I always feel like I’m missing a piece. It’s a text from Summer. I volunteered to help her plan their joint birthday party on Halloween, whichmeans Summer has delegated half of the tasks to me. And I want this to be perfect. I need it to be.

Leaving Scarlett here is the last thing I want to do, but I’d rather not explain this to anyone. For once, I want to keep it to myself. I want to keepherto myself.

I opt for writing a note. I add,Don’t leave, but I cross it out. I lay the note on the pillow beside her.

Running errands. I’ll be back soon. —K

Just as I’m heading out, Dylan walks through the front door, dropping his gym bag and slumping on the entryway bench.

“You good, Dill Pickle?”

He toes off his shoes. “Great.”

“You don’t look great,” I say, not liking how he sways when he stands.

Dylan turns to the mirror behind him, smirking at his own reflection. “You expect me to believe that?”

I roll my eyes, letting him give me a playful shove before heading down the hall.