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“Well, now it’s three,” Micah put in. “Four, if you’ll let me add mine.” His cheeks grew a little pink as he looked at me, and I softened inside.
“Of course, you—wait. I don’t have it.”
“Oh, it’s up on the table.” Devan nodded toward where the plate of bagels sat. “It was still on the rock with your letter.”
“Oh, thank you.” I reached up, grabbing the phone, then handed it to Micah to input his number.
“No, thank you,” Devan said, his gaze direct. “For calling me last night. We might have lost both of you if you hadn’t.”
I nodded a little uncomfortably, then glanced at Garrett. “What were you and Drew doing out there in the middle of the night, anyway?”
I knew getting an answer out of him would be a long shot, so I wasn’t surprised when he simply stared at me, his lids half lowered in an unreadable expression.
“Nothing important,” he told me, but then the corner of his mouth twisted up in a smirk. “I imagine he’ll be surprised to find me in class on Monday, though.”
I stifled a snort at that. I’ll bet he would.
…class on Monday.
Oh, shit.
I had completely forgotten that I’d planned to be gone by then. Off on a plane heading to California, leaving this whole world behind me. But I was no longer sure what to do. I’d planned to be up and gone this morning before my roommates awoke, to avoid questions, but it was too late for that. And after the events of the previous night, and with my parents’ letter…everything suddenly seemed less clear.
“Well, what do you guys want to do today?” Devan asked, leaning back and stretching his arms over his head. His shirt rode up, revealing a glimpse of rock-hard abs. He glanced between the three of us.
“What, me too?” I asked, pulling my gaze from his stomach up to his face. I’d assumed they would want me to clear out asap since everyone seemed to have recovered.
“Of course. You’re stuck with us now,” he said firmly.
I glanced at Garrett for some kind of confirmation. I was sure that he would still want to maintain the distance between us, so he could keep the secrets that seemed to be piling up around him. But he simply raised an eyebrow at me.
Huh.
“Um…well since we’re all here we could work on our English lit project,” I hazarded.
“Are you serious?” Devan asked, his auburn brows climbing skyward. “You want to do schoolwork?”
“Well, not really, but—”
“No work today,” Micah cut in. “I don’t care if you feel fine; you two need to rest.” He glared between me and Garrett. “Besides, it’s a Sunday. Let’s do something fun.”
* * *
‘Fun’ ended up being a racing game on the guys’ gaming console. The game was utterly absurd, where each player could dress up in ridiculous clothes and race cars made out of vegetables around an obstacle course, gaining points and sabotaging the other players. Despite my protests that I wasn’t particularly good at video games, it was the perfect relaxing way to spend an afternoon, and the first time I beat Devan it brought out a competitive side I hadn’t known I possessed.
“Yesssss!” I cried as my avatar—who was inexplicably dressed as a pineapple—danced around the screen next to the eggplant I’d been driving. Devan laughed as his pirate avatar sobbed onscreen and tossed his controller onto the couch. He poked me in the side, and I yelped.
“Another round?” he asked.
“I dunno, maybe we should end on a high note. I probably won’t beat you again.”
“I’ll play,” Garrett volunteered from where he was leaning against the wall, watching us.
“Oh, hell no,” I said, and he smirked. Garrett was by far the most skilled of the three, and when he played no one even came close to beating him.
“I thought I told you guys to relax today,” Micah called, poking his head out of his room.
“We are relaxing,” Garrett informed him. When he turned his head I saw the stitches Micah had placed behind his ear. They were tidy and small, and I wondered again where Micah had gotten the skill—or the supplies—to do that, and what the guys had against the infirmary in the first place.
