Page 84 of We’re All Going to Die Tonight!

“And I can’t do that if you’re leaving and going off by yourself,” Caulder says, stepping forward. “Jesus, Avery, you being okay is pretty much the only thing that matters to me right now. So I need you to not disappear like that, okay?”

“Okay, fine,” I say. “I won’t—”

“And if we really are going to die here,” Caulder continues. “I want you to know that kissing you was the best thing that happened all weekend.”

I can’t help it. I snort. “Fairly low bar, wouldn’t you say?”

“Okay, maybe,” he says. “But I’m trying to say…it did matter to me. It does. It’s mattered—you’ve mattered—to me for a long fucking time.”

I glare at him. “Don’t say that. Don’t lie to me, Caulder. You and I both know you stopped caring about me when I moved away.”

“Oh, we both know that?” Caulder asks. “Seriously?”

“You ignored me when I came back,” I say. “You pretended not to know me. I thought I’d have my friend back, and instead, you turned into some asshole.”

Caulder’s face falls. “I didn’t pretend not to know you. I was trying to be cool at a new school, at high school. And after that, you never acknowledged me.”

“Because you had embarrassed me!”

“Did you ever even wonder why I joined debate?” Caulder asks, throwing up his hands.

“Yes,” I say. “Because you wanted something else to lord over me—”

“Because I wanted to go back to the way things used to be with us, Aves,” he says, and something in me stills. “Yeah, McCullough said it would be good for my college apps. But I saw you were in it. And I loved when we’d debate in class. That was the only time you interacted with me. Watching you get fired up about shit…I love arguing with you. And so I wasn’t trying to be an asshole. I was just…trying to be around you, okay?”

I stare at him. “That’s not possible. You’re lying.”

He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t lie to you. I mean…I have lied to you tonight, but I won’t do it again.”

I freeze, thinking over the night. When did he lie?

And my stomach drops.

“During truth or dare,” I say quietly, slowly. “You lied about being in love with Kaitlyn.”

He’s surprised. His eyes widen. His lips part ever so slightly. But he’s not shocked. He’s not shocked because I’m right. He did lie.

When he said he’d never been in love, it was a lie. Because of course he loved her. He loved her and her beautiful hair and her volleyball-captain body. He loved how she can boss people around in a sexy way rather than my way, which is more like a librarian telling you to put your books back when you’re finished with them.

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” I say, shaking my head. “And it doesn’t matter. You probably still love her. And I get why. I do—”

“Avery,” he says, and when did he start saying my name so much? Doesn’t he see the way it unravels me?

“You’re right,” he says, the words falling quietly from his mouth as he steps forward. “I should’ve known you’d guess it right away.”

My cheeks burn. I wish I could open this garage door, but the button is back behind Caulder, who’s steadily walking toward me.

“But you’re wrong at the same time. I don’t love Kaitlyn,” he says. “I never loved her. Maybe that makes me a shitty guy, dating someone for that long when I didn’t actually care about her, but I can’t help that. As soon as I figured it out, we broke up.”

“So you told the truth,” I say. “You really haven’t been in love.”

“No, Avery,” he says. “I did lie. You were right. And you’re still not getting it.”

I shake my head. “But you just said—”

He closes the distance between us, standing right in front of me. I can count that he has four scratches on his cheeks, one on his forehead, and that one I noticed earlier on his jaw, a jagged slash of red on his obscenely clear skin.

“I’m aware when you walk into a room,” he says. “I don’t always want to be, but I am.”