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Only I don’t know what.
I don’t know what I can do if he’s leaving.
He’s leaving.
Leaving.
I mean, I knew that he was gonna leave but I didn’t know it was gonna be this soon. That it was gonna be just two days after I told him that I love him.
That’s why he’s leaving, isn’t he?
Because I told him I loved him.
Because now he thinks that I’m gonna be declaring my love to him every two seconds. He probably thinks that I’m gonna throw myself at him like I’ve done countless times before.
Take your love and get out of my face…
And oh God, I have to tell him.
I have to tell him that I won’t. That I won’t bother him or make his life harder.
I won’t go to him or talk to him or be all dramatic about it.
In fact, I promised myself that I won’t even watch him around St. Mary’s. I won’t watch him in the hallways or in the dining room, in the library or on the soccer field.
So this is stupid, him leaving.
“I have to stop him,” I burst out, finally coming to a conclusion.
I also do it loud.
Louder than I should have because the girls quiet down around me. They all give me startled looks and I shake my head. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to be so –”
“No, it’s okay. Go.” Callie squeezes my shoulder.
“Yeah, I called you a cab. So you should be good,” Poe tells me with a determined nod.
“But… what about us going out?”
Poe waves her hand. “That was just a hoax. Something we had to tell you so you’d be ready at midnight.”
Wyn smiles proudly. “I came up with that.”
Despite everything, I chuckle.
Gosh, they’ve thought of everything, haven’t they?
My friends, and they don’t even know the whole story yet.
Who would’ve thought that I’d make friends at a reform school? That I’d love them all to pieces.
And that they’d push me out the door when I just stand there, feeling overwhelmed and flabbergasted, so I could go and stop the love of my life.
But as soon as the night air hits me, I take off at a run.
I’m filled with determination and purpose.
I’m filled with calmness. Or as much calmness as I can be filled with at a time like this. At a time when he is leaving.
Because I declared my love to him.
God.
What an idiotic thing to do and what an idiotic way to react.
But it’s okay. I’ll stop him.
I don’t remember giving the cabbie his address but somehow, I’m here.
I’m in front of his gray door and I’m knocking.
I realize I’ve never done that before, knock on his door I mean. Whenever I came here, to this L-shaped building with its gray railing, overlooking the highway, he was always with me.
So I think it’s going to be a little shocking when he sees me on his doorstep.
And it is.
It is shocking when a second later, Arrow opens the door and finds me – the girl who loves him.
He actually draws back an inch and I fist my hands at my sides.
I’m probably the last person he was expecting to see and yet, here I am.
Complete with my love and all.
Complete with my messy hair and freckles and chunky sweater and soccer cleats. And out-of-control pounding heart.
In my defense, I do try to control my heart and not ogle him. Which is very difficult because he doesn’t have a shirt on.
His hard muscles are on display and they’re sweaty. Also, they are panting and heaving.
I try not to look at his expanding ribs and hollowing out stomach and the way he’s frowning at me, mouth open, nostrils flaring.
Because he doesn’t need that.
He doesn’t need me to look at him with puppy dog eyes and his next words prove it. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
I try not to flinch, but I can only do so much in this moment. “I –”
“How did you get here?” he asks but then doesn’t give me the time to answer him because he pokes his head out to glance up and down the sidewalk as if to check on things.
As if just by looking he can deduce how I came to be here.
I move back slightly while he does his inspection. While his musky scent fills my nose and his chest almost grazes mine.
Because again, he doesn’t need that.
When he comes to stand straight, he warns, “Salem.”
Breaking out of my stupor, I say, “I… You’re leaving.”
At my words, his jaw tics and he asks again, “How the fuck did you get here?”
“I took a cab.”
He stares at me, immobile and frozen, his eyes dark. “Come in.”
“I don’t –”
“Just…” He sighs. “It’s cold. You’re shaking. Come inside.”
As soon as he says it in his rough, gravelly tone, I feel the first shiver roll down my spine. The first tremble of my legs, my belly.
