Page 22 of What’s Left of Us

“Violet?” he repeats. “Why are you here?”

I scoff. The actual audacity.

“That’s my line,” I snap. I stride into the kitchen, until only its island counter separates us. Atlas looks me over, but unlike his roommate, there’s no heat there. Only cautious curiosity.

“I don’t understand.”

“This is my town.” I press my hands against the counter, over-enunciating each word. “In case you forgot, you’re supposed to be in Missoula.”

“You keeping tabs on me?” His lips twitch into the beginning of a smile.

“Did you switch schools?” I ask, ignoring him. “Or are you just here to torture me?”

The smile falls. Good.

“I transferred here.”

“Why.” It’s not a question. It’s an accusation, and I’m not leaving until he confirms what I already know. He’s here to further ruin my life, to ensure I’m so miserable, there’s no possible way I survive.

“Well, I guess I got my answer about your phone number,” he says in lieu of answering. My stomach pitches, but I work hard to keep my expression neutral. Atlas sighs. “I wondered if you were getting my texts, whether you were just ignoring me or whether you’d actually blocked my number.”

I offer a one-shouldered, noncommittal shrug.

“I tried to text you. Just to give you a head’s up. I didn’t want to blindside you like that.”

“Stop,” I snap. “Stop acting nice or like you’re worried about me. I don’t care where you are. I just—why are you here, Atlas? I thought you were in Missoula. My mom said you had a swimming scholarship there. A good one.”

That infuriating little mouth twitch happens again, the one where he’s trying hard not to smile. When we were sixteen, I always felt compelled to kiss that look off his face.

Now, I’m more inclined to use my fist than my lips.

“I switched majors, and Aber has a better program for it. They offered me a scholarship too. It was an easy decision.”

Don’t say ‘Aber’ like you’re a local, I want to say. You’ve only been here five minutes.

What was your major? I almost ask. What is it now?

Do you regret what you did? I’ve wondered, every single moment of my existence since that day. Even a little bit?

“So it’s purely coincidental that you ended up here, out of every other college in the whole fucking United States.”

He smiles, and it’s a punch to my chest. I’m momentarily stunned, struggling to remember how to breathe.

“I’ll never get used to you cussing,” he says. Like we’re friends. Like he knows me at all. “But no, it’s not purely coincidental. You’re here, Violet. We have unfinished business.”

A shocked gasp breaks between my lips before I can stop it. He cannot be serious.

“No, we really don’t.” I step back from the counter, facing Atlas, even as I grab the door handle. Confronting him seemed like a good idea when I woke up this morning. Now, I’m desperate to put as much distance between us as possible. “You ruined my life, Atlas. There’s nothing more to say.”

His smile drops again, and he takes a deep breath. I can see his mind working, the same way I could when we were kids. Like it or not—and I most definitely do not—I know Atlas better than I know anyone else.

“Let’s just agree to stay out of each other’s way, all right?” I open the door, but only make it halfway through before he speaks.

“You dyed your hair blue.” The words slip out like a tortured confession. “Blue, Violet. Do you remember?”

I work my jaw. His question draws a buried memory from the recesses of my mind. A whispered conversation from nine years ago, from a night I remember for an entirely different reason.

“We’re not kids anymore, Atlas,” I say. “You’re trying to save someone who no longer exists.”