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“Yeah?” he teased, easing off me and pressing back into me so slowly I held my breath, waiting to feel him. “Is there something you—”
“EV! EVAN!” Eli’s frantic yells had Evan off me and yanking his jeans back on in a second. I sat up, wrapping my arms around my waist, trying to cover myself. To hide the embarrassment washing over me.
“I’ll be right back, okay? He has nightmares sometimes.” Evan disappeared out of the room, and I flopped back onto the bed.
What was I doing?
Scrambling off the bed, I pulled on my clothes, and when Evan finally returned, I had already called a cab.
“You’re leaving?” he asked, wearing a deep frown.
“Yeah, I’d better get home. Mom will be wondering where I am.”
“Your mom. Right.” He didn’t believe me. I heard it in his voice.
“But I’ll see you at school tomorrow?”Where we can pretend we’re nothing to one another. I didn’t say it. I didn’t need to. We both knew the moment between us had passed, and tomorrow, we’d just be strangers in the hallway again.
Evan dragged a hand through his hair. “Yeah, tomorrow.” His eyes narrowed, pleading with me, but I needed to go. I needed air. And space.
I needed the harsh bite of the fall wind to knock some sense into me.
Sidestepping him, I headed to the door, but his hand caught my wrist at the last second. I turned back, meeting his steely gaze. “What are we doing, Becca?”
“I have no idea, Evan.” I smiled sadly.
Because I really didn’t.
* * *
The cab pulledup outside my house, and I immediately realized my error. Mom would be up, waiting.
“Becca?” She stood at the door, wrapped in her fleece robe. The deep creases around her eyes are a sign of her worry.
“Hey, Mom.” I flashed her the best smile I could muster. “Is everything okay?”
Her eyes narrowed. “You tell me.” She pressed back against the wall and let me into the house, closing the door behind us.
“Scarlett had to head out early, so I got a cab.”
“Where were you?”
“At Lilly’s.”
“I see.” Mom brushed past me and made her way into the kitchen. I wanted to go straight up to my room and process, but instead, I followed. “I made tea,” she said.
“Thanks. Is something up, Mom?”
“This place.” She sighed heavily. “It’s not what I thought it would be.”
Sensing this was going to be one conversation I couldn’t evade, I slipped into a chair. “We knew it was going to be different.”
Her eyes glossed over, and I could see she was biting back the tears.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. Guilt and regret coiled around my heart, crushing the air from my lungs.
“No, no, Becca, baby, I’m sorry.” She swiped the tears away. “It’s just so different from home.”
Home.
