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He doesn’t really bother with pleasantries. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I just wanted to see you.”
“I thought you were at…your friend’s place for Thanksgiving.”
“I couldn’t stay there. It was too weird. I was going to fly home, but then I flew here instead.”
“Oh. You should have given me a heads-up. I could have picked you up from the airport or something.”
I take a deep breath. “Can we talk?”
“We’re talking right now.”
“I meanreallytalk. About us.” He tenses. “You caught me off guard at school.” Silence. “Reallyoff guard,” I stress.
“Can we have this conversation later? I’m in the middle of—”
“I should have said yes,” I blurt. “When you said you wanted to be together. Of course I want—I’m just scared, Elliot. You’re my best friend. This isn’t simple or straightforward for me. If this ends, it will hurt a lot. I mean…” I half-laugh. “I’ve been in love with you forfour years.”
His eyes snap to mine. “What about the guy you were with?”
“You’re an idiot if you think I would choose him—choose anyone—over you, Eli.” I look away, because looking at him makes it hard to think. “I’ve always been terrified that telling you how I felt—feel—would ruin everything, but just as scared you’d meet someone else and fall in love with them instead.”
Elliot’s face is fierce. “I wouldn’t have.”
“You can’t know that.”
“Yeah, I can, because you can’t fall in love with someone when you’re already in love with someone else.”
I stare at him. “I…What?”
That signature smirk flashes across his face—the one that makes it hard to stand.
Focus. Breathe.
“You heard me, Denny.”
“You’re in love with me?”
“Can’t come as that much of a surprise. Everyone who knows me called it years ago.”
“It’s a surprise,” I manage to say. “I’m worried I might not be enough—”
He moves closer. “You are.”
“But—”
“I’ve never been with anyone else, Auden.”
“What?”
“I’ve fooled around with other women, yeah, but sex? No one but you.” He takes a deep breath. “I love you, and I know I’ve done nothing but fuck it up, but it’s true. I love that you make me smile when I’m mad. I love that you text me before every single game. I love the face you make when you’re trying not to laugh because you’re too nice to. I love kissing you.” He pauses. “And I’m sorry it took me so long to figure all of it out.”
I stare at him. Then, to my horror, I start to cry. Not a delicate, solitary tear streaking down one cheek—I’m sobbing. I genuinely can’t recall the last time I cried. I don’t ever remember having this level of breakdown before. Expressing emotions gives others power over you. That’s something I’ve always tried to avoid. Right now? I have no choice. It’s not just that he’s telling me things I’ve laid awake at night wondering and thinking about. It’s an explosion of relief and a release of anxiety. I can’t count the number of times I’d go to a party on campus, watch guys pick up girls and take them upstairs, and picture Elliot doing the same thing thousands of miles away.
He didn’t. Not once.
“Den…”
