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I gritted my teeth because it was like pushing through wet cement, but I reached for his hand and lifted it off me. I pushed up from the couch. “You’re an ass.” I stalked off to the kitchen.

“I was just asking.”

He knew better. That was the point. He so knew better.

My chest was rising, heaving, and my pulse was racing. Goddamn him, I was pissed. I went back, my arms hugging myself something tight, more to keep myself in check. “Fuck you.”

“That was the point.” But he didn’t sound mad. He was resigned as he got up and began reaching for his bag.

He was going to leave.

“Hey.” I went over, grabbing it out of his hand. I held it behind me. “What was the point of that? Having you over is a big deal. We’re friends now, right? Aren’t we?”

He was standing, his hands in his jeans pockets, and his head fell back. “Yeah. I guess.”

My nostrils flared. “You guess?”

“Yes. We’re friends.” His head jerked up, and his own nostrils flared. He was all intense. “We’re more than friends. I’m not the one hiding from that.”

I moved back a step but stopped.

His words were a punch, and I felt it.

“You don’t get it.” I was shaking my head.

“Then explain it.”

“I have! This is new to me. You and me, we have sex today and I’ll go back to my old ways.”

“What’s the old way? Fucking and running?”

I sucked in my breath. That was another hit from him, right to my sternum.

“That’s right. That’s what you do. You screw me and what? Don’t take my calls for another week? Two this time? Cut me off? You fucking someone else, Mara? You’re trying the friend route with me, but I know you. I know you need sex. You’re not using me for that need so who you using? Miller? He finally get in there? Maybe your roommate. The swimmer. Saw him this morning at the campus coffee place. He looked like he got laid last night, he was all beaming and shit. That from you?”

“Shut up.”

His eyes narrowed. “Make me.”

This was the dick side of Cruz. Why was it coming out? Why now…? That Friday call.

“Why did you call me Friday?”

“Maybe I wanted a screw.”

“You weren’t here.”

“Maybe I thought I could get you to drive to see me.”

His words. So biting. They were clipped out. He was on edge, and he was pushing for a reaction.

It hit me. He was doing a Mara. He was trying to push me away. And when it all connected, a calmness settled through me, anchoring me. I wasn’t going anywhere.

“I don’t think this is about me. Did something happen with your family?”

He cursed, low and long, his head folding down.

“Your sister? Mom?” I moved closer.

He was shaking his head. “I don’t want to talk about it. I–don’t push this.”

My throat swelled up. “Is it your sister?”

He let out a ragged breath. “Seriously, Mara. Don’t.”

I took a step toward him, but only one. “Cruz.”

“Let’s–” He was looking around, lingering on his bookbag, then his gaze went to my bedroom. He cursed under his breath again before looking up, pinning me with his gaze. They were so haunted. “Let’s get out of here. How far’s the beach? Let’s go to the beach.”

“The beach?”

“There’s one an hour away. Let’s go there.”

He was talking about a beach that a lot of Grant West students used. Chances were high we’d see others there. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” He nodded to his bag. “You and me. Let’s just get out of here. Clear our heads. What do you say?” He glanced back to me. The haunted look hadn’t left. It increased. He needed to clear his head. Not me, but… We were friends. I felt myself nodding. “Sure. Yeah. You and me.”

He expelled a sudden burst of air. “Thanks. Uh, how long till you can go?”

I motioned to my room. “Ten minutes?”

“I want to run and grab something. I’ll be back. Ten minutes?”

He took off right after, and I–well, okay then.

This is what friends did. We went to the beach when one of us needed to clear his head.

On the drive out, riding shotgun with the windows open and some Phillip Phillips on the radio, I was enjoying this. I was feeling a sort of contentment that I never knew I could feel. While I acknowledged that, there was a small, the tiniest, feeling of fear kickstarting inside of me, but the contentment was so massive.

I was leaning toward the good feeling.

I was going to lean all the way into it and stay there. I was going to enjoy the day because no matter how I sliced it, the beach was going to be awesome. Booyah.

Cruz didn’t talk the whole way there, which was fine with me. I wasn’t in the mood to talk either. I was riding the wave of feeling my ‘positive and not panicky’ feelings.

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