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He tilts his head slightly, his lips twisting to the side before nodding. "I'll text you."
For the first time since I've met Lincoln, we're behaving like actual friends. It's a little odd, but I really like it. Our friendship may be unconventional, but they do say that opposites attract.
I wave an awkward hand in goodbye as I open the door and step back into my room. He smiles, waiting for me to close the door before he leaves.
"Bye," he rasps.
I return his smile, my heart aflutter, before whispering, "Bye."
I shut the door slowly, hoping to exude an air of nonchalance. Despite the whirlwind of emotions inside me, I resist the urge to unleash my natural response, which is to jump around and scream. I'm determined to maintain a facade of composure, at least until Leia arrives.
On cue, the door swings open and is shut quickly as Leia bounces into the room, landing directly in my personal space. She leaps into my arms, and we both tumble to the ground.
"Oh my god! Oh my god! Tell me everything!" Her excitement is palpable, her energy infectious.
I spend the next forty-five minutes recounting all the important details, relishing in the retelling of every moment. To be honest, I share everything.
At that moment, I've never felt more alive.
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
SUTTON
Peering outof Lane's office window, I watch the trees dance and sway in the fierce, November wind. It's the kind of wind that feels powerful enough to whisk me away, yet Lane remains indifferent, as though he didn't trick me into coming here under false pretenses and leaving me stranded.
Winter hits Boston early, and it's in full force by now. I'm cocooned in an oversized jacket, a snug beanie pulled low over my ears, and gloves to shield myself from the biting cold.
A sudden panic sets in as I spot a branch hurtling across the parking lot. My heart races; that branch could've been lethal. I'm no match for the relentless elements out here.
Lane casually dismisses my concern. "Call Leia. She can give you a ride back to the dorms," he suggests with an annoyingly calm demeanor. It's deliberate; I just can't figure out why.
In frustration, I can't help but yell at him, "She doesn't have a car! You made her leave it at home! I'm going to freeze to death out there!"
He continues the charade, feigning innocence, as he asks, "Why didn't you bring your car?" I start to adjust my beanie, feeling my frizzy hair refusing to cooperate. "You know why," I whisper-shout. My driving skills are far from perfect, and Lane's mailbox can vouch for that—it's a total wreck.
Maintaining his facade, Lane furrows his brows. "Do I?" I roll my eyes, feeling my patience wearing thin. "I don't find you very funny tonight."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't realize that you assumed I would take you back." The smile on his mature face suggests otherwise.
I continue to moan and groan, "That was a totally sensible assumption for me to make! You—"
My words are abruptly cut short by a knock on the door.
Lincoln appears in the doorway, his hockey bag slung over his shoulder, and a sheepish expression on his face. His wet hair is swept away from his face, making my heart skip a beat.
Lincoln clears his throat, "Hey, sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to see if you needed anything before I left." He gestures with his thumb over his shoulder.
Lane stands up and approaches me. "Well, Linc, now that you mention it," he says, casually draping an arm around my shoulder, "Sutton needs a ride back to the dorms if you wouldn't mind taking her."
Feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment, I interject, "You don't have to."
Lincoln studies me for a moment before replying, "I can."
He nods at Lane. "It's no problem."
"I knew I could count on you!" Lane exclaims with excitement, further solidifying my suspicion that he had planned this all along.
With a pointed look, I confront Lane, my words dripping with accusation. "You did this on purpose.
