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“You sounded conflicted on the phone. Are you sure you don’t want to run it by me?”
“Nah. It’s no big deal. Just an acting gig I wasn’t sure I could pull off, but I’m going to try anyway.”
Nodding, I stare up at Gia. She’s changed a lot since we first met. Day one of college. Moving into the dorm. She seemed shy at first, her smile timid, forced. Friendly but unsure of her surroundings.
All it took was one class for her to break out of her shell. She’s been an acting major ever since. Nailing every production she’s auditioned for since freshman year.
I guess we all felt that way when we first got here. Out of place. Looking to fit in, to figure out who we were, who we wanted to be.
Well, everyone except Cleo. She’s always been boisterous and outgoing. She’s the one who eventually pulled us all together. Gia is the reason I decided to join the Zetas, but Cleo was the one driving the motivational bus.
And once you were on it, there was no getting off.
Today, she reminds me of that girl I first met. The uncertainty in her eyes is clear. She’s still deciding if she made the right decision. Knowing her, she has. She just doesn’t know it yet.
“I’m going to head to bed. Wanna go for breakfast in the morning? We can do a little shopping after, for the party.”
The party. I almost forgot about that. I picked up a new dress while I was home—thank God, since it costs more than I’d want to spend now with limited cash flow—that’s still hanging in the back of my car.
The party makes me think of Colt. Who I need to text. He has no way of getting in touch with me, and the last thing I want is for him to come barging in here when other people are home.
“I have a dress, but I’m more than happy to go shopping with you. Looking never hurt anyone, right?”
As soon as Gia’s gone, I shoot Colt a message, my fingers frantically tapping the screen at the thought of him barreling into the house at any minute, screaming my name.
ME: It’s Scarlet. I have a new phone number. I’m sorry I left, but Gia was expecting me and freaking out because I wasn’t home yet. I’m sorry I fell asleep. I’m sorry I cried on your shoulder. I know we were supposed to meet about the gala today or tomorrow, but can it wait until after the new year? I have a lot I need to take care of in the next few days.
COLT: You ran away again.
That’s it. That’s all he sent. I waited for more to come through, a second message, but nothing. And as I stared at those four little words, I realize he’s right. I did run. I was scared someone would see me. Scared people would find out I was in his room.
But why?
I’m not ashamed of Colt. My parents may not approve of him, but they don’t know him. Not like I do.
So why do I keep running?
Why am I so scared for people to know that something is going on between us?
I roll the questions around in my head as I unpack my car, then my suitcase. I’m determined to send him an answer when I reply to his text instead of an excuse. I just need to figure out why I keep running from him.
When realization dawns on me, it feels like I walk face-first into a brick wall. How did I not see this sooner?
I’m not scared of Colt. Or of what people think.
I’m scared of what I feel for him. Of what I’ve always felt for him. The same feelings I’ve been harboring and fighting against since the first night he kissed me.
If I give in to those feelings, he has the power to hurt me.
If he hurts me, it’ll be over. The years I’ve invested in this relationship—not that it was a relationship since we never spoke or interacted, but in my head, it was—would be for nothing. The fantasies would die. The vision of the future we could build together would crumble.
I’m scared because I let myself love Colt for three years without asking for his love in return. It was safer that way.
I no longer feel safe from heartache.
