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“Right now?”

“Right now. I’ll go out there with you.” I’d love to see the look on Guy’s face when she does it.

“Will you take me to the airport?”

I look from one eye to the other.

“I don’t have a car.”

“You can drive mine.”

“I, uh…” I can’t drive her to the airport. I can’t drive her anywhere. I don’t know how to drive. I’m twenty years old and I’ve never driven a car.

This is why I didn’t offer myself as Guy’s replacement before. And why I shouldn’t have even considered it now. Because I know I’m not good enough for her either.

Why did I think I could be what Kota needs?

“I can’t.”

When Kota steps back, I feel the window drop.

“Oh. Yeah. Don’t worry about it.” She tries to hide her disappointment but I catch it. That or it’s my own mirrored back at me.

“But—”

“I better go.” She pushes past me, twisting her body so it doesn’t so much as graze mine.

As if I’m contagious and one touch will somehow turn her into a lowlife, too.

I pivot to follow. “Hold on. It’s just… I…” It’s not just me. No one back home drives. We don’t have to in New York. We have other—cheaper—ways to get around.

“It’s better this way actually. Gives me a chance to talk to Guy.”

“Not talk to him.” Right? “Break up with him.”

“Yeah,” she says in the most unconvincing tone ever while hustling down the stairs.

She’s placating me, so she can get out the door quicker. I know she has to go. I just don’t want her to yet. I don’t want her to at all.

“Kota, I’m sorry.” For everything. I fucked up everything.

If only I could fucking drive.

“It’s fine. Really. I should’ve known better. I do. I do know better.”

My steps falter. What? Is this because I couldn’t swim, so naturally—I don’t know how—that leads to me not being able to drive either? Or is she talking about something else?

“What does that mean?”

“You literally told me.”

“I did?” I remember the conversation about me not having a car but I don’t remember telling her I didn’t know how to drive.

“Have a nice summer, Khaos,” she says over her shoulder before slipping on a piece of trash in the foyer.

“Kota! Jesus.” I take the last four stairs all at once.

Now at the door, she turns to stare at me.