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“Oh! Sorry,” I say, grabbing a fistful of his shirt instead of face planting.
I look up into his crooked smile and he bends down to kiss me. His lips linger on mine for an extra beat, probably to show off our affection for Morgan and prove his point—he loves me. I bring my palm to his cheek to prove hers—I love him back.
Knowing Morgan is in the room, I pull off a fake startled expression when I see her sitting on the edge of Theo’s bed. She’s wearing her break-up pajamas—blue plaid flannel pants that she stole from the college guy she was dating last year and the Bruins sweatshirt she stole from my closet two years ago. When love goes wrong, Morgan dresses for the occasion.
“Uh . . . why are you here?” I stammer. It’s only half-pretend because while I listened in on their conversation, I don’t have much context for it.
My friend stares at me with red, heavy-lidded eyes. In a matter of seconds, her bottom lip puffs out and she jets to her feet, rushing me with open arms. I glance to Cameron for help, but he shakes his head quickly and slowly blinks to indicate my friend needs me, and however angry I am, I need to accept this embrace.
Our bodies collide and I hug her tight, instant tears and snot pouring onto my shoulder. My face sours and I peer to the side, meeting Cameron’s gaze. He laughs soundlessly, but waves his hand in small circles, encouraging me to give her more. I rub my hand on her back, and she takes long breaths until her sobs finally stop.
“I’m so sorry, Brook. I was a total bitch. And you and . . .” She lets go of me and spins to face Cameron. “You too. You are both good people and you deserve each other. You might be the only good people left in this stupid ugly place.”
Her acidic tone cuts deep and melts most of the ice I’ve been forming as a wall between us. She turns back to me and her eyes pool with the weight of a broken heart. I’m not sure what is happening in her life, but this breakdown is proof enough that our petty beef wasn’t the cause.
“She came here looking for you,” Cameron says over her shoulder.
I glance from him back to my friend. She tries to pull her lips into an apologetic smile, but it falls flat. My head tilts to one side and I reach up and tuck her tear-and-snot clumped hair behind her ear.
“I was about to come back to our room. How about we get you in the shower and then maybe we talk?”
Her nod comes fast, and it relieves the last vestiges of pain in my chest.
“Cam can come too. I mean, not in the shower, but—”
“Damn,” Cameron interjects, his typical boy-humor urging Morgan’s smile to grow even more.
“Maybe the three of us can hang out for a while and catch up,” she suggests.
My eyes flit to Cameron, and his soft expression says he’s in.
“That would be nice,” I say.
Walden Bennett may have broken my heart a little this morning. But Morgan Bentley? She just shot up in the polls.
Chapter19
Cameron
Girls have a very different way of bonding and cheering each other up over relationship trouble than dudes do. When we got to Morgan and Brooklyn’s room, I set up Brooklyn’s laptop to stream the first season ofThe Office. It’s a go-to when you need to laugh at absurdity. It works for any situation. Theo and I have our favorite episodes timestamped. The birthday episode. When Michael declares bankruptcy. Dwight . . . period.
Apparently, though, I know nothing. Within minutes,The Officeturned into the Matthew Macfadyen version ofPride and Prejudicebecause, and I quote, “It is the superior P and P,” according to Brooklyn.
It has initials. P and P.
I will admit I liked it better than the book, but probably because I rolled my eyes about a thousand times when I had to read the book in third form. If I had to woo Brooklyn with fancy balls and agreeable walks along the water, I’d be a hermit.
I must be doing something right, though, because ever since Morgan fell asleep, she has been calling me Darcy. He seems like a good dude, so I accept it.
“Thank you for being here for Morgan. I’m not sure what’s going on between her and James exactly, but it meant a lot to her that we spent the day with her.” Her voice is quiet so we don’t disturb Morgan.
I don’t say it, but I would have spent the day in this room with just about anyone to get to lay here next to Brooklyn and run my hand through her hair while she nestles into my chest. It was pretty much my perfect day, minus the really crappy truth about my dad and Brooklyn’s dad that hovers on the periphery of our happy bubble.
“Young love is hard,” I say, peering down at her as she shifts against my chest to meet my gaze. Her mouth tugs up into a brief, one-sided smile.
“I guess we would know, huh?” she says.
I match her tired smile with my own, and we spend a few seconds looking hard into each other’s eyes. I’m not sure what she’s searching for, but I’m looking for the doubt and hurt. The last few days have been a whirlwind. After years of secretly loving my friend, the universe wove us together with circumstances both accidental and cruel. I worry about how she’s weathering it all.
