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I thought she liked me.
Slap.
I liked her.
Slap.
I could have seen myselflovingher.
Slap.
Sheleft.
I barrel around a tight corner and skid on something—leaves, trash—and end up in the street, on my back. Tears burn my eyes as I pant, staring through the trees for a glimpse of the moon. I stay there until I hear a car coming, then scramble to my feet. I lean against a tree as I catch my breath, my fingers scrabbling on the rough bark, half-hoping I’ll have to dig splinters from underneath my fingernails. I press my bruised shoulder against the tree, leaning on it with all my weight, and relish in my hiss of pain.
Maybe I did love her. Not consciously, not completely, not in the way my brothers have given themselves to their partners—but something pretty fucking close. Maybe I mistook the way she touched me, the way she kissed me, for real affection, when it was just another mask.
It’s not the same, because nothing will ever be the same as that rainy night; nothing will come close to the horror of being left alone in the world, unexpectedly and completely, but I had her, and she left me.
The other shoe dropped, the way it always does in the end.
Mia might be in my house, sleeping in the next room—but she’s not mine. Never was, never will be.
And if I can’t find a way to win her friendship, I won’t have her in my life at all.
12
MIA
I wakeup the next morning with a mouth full of cat fur.
Tangerine, snoring contentedly on my face, doesn’t protest when I move her. If she wasn’t so cute, I’d suspect she had been attempting murder by suffocation. I pull a piece of orange hair away from my tongue. I need water. Coffee. One of those memory-wiping devices fromMen in Black.
Why the hell did I agree to spend the night at Sebastian’s?
Desperation. Right.
It hurts, being here. There are reminders of the past in every inch of Izzy’s room. I got ready for Cooper’s birthday party in that bathroom—helped Izzy do Penny’s hair—and the way Sebastian looked at me when we met in the kitchen… well, it nearly made me drop the tray of cupcakes I was holding.
It also led to all that dancing with Julio, because I was terrified that people would see us and put two and two together. No one did, and I ended up letting him into my room after the party anyway. My body ached the next morning in the most satisfying way; he fucked me against the door and then again in bed, holding me so close, I felt contained by his strength. Safe. I bit his shoulder, and he just laughed and told me to do it again, harder.
I scrub both hands over my face, willing my mind to erase the memory.
I need to stay in the moment.
Water. Coffee.
First, I should pee and wrangle my hair into shape.
By the time I emerge from the bathroom, which is still filled with Izzy’s many beauty products—I guess when you’re Izzy Callahan, you can just get new bottles of your expensive skincare products for your summer in Manhattan, no problem—and get dressed, I’m feeling better. Regardless of how it happened, I needed an actual night of sleep, and I managed that, for the most part. Once I have caffeine in hand, I can poke at the code Alice sent me. Maybe I’ll get lucky, and the housing department will call me early.
I put my hair into a bun, tuck my laptop underneath my arm, and scoop up Tangy before sneaking into the hallway.
Clear.
I take a deep breath. He’s probably eating breakfast.
When I walk downstairs, though, it’s obvious that I’m alone. The house is quiet, filled with morning light, and neat as a pin. He even folded the blanket over the back of the couch with precision. I peer through the front curtains, and sure enough, his car is missing from the driveway. He wasn’t kidding about having an early start.
