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“Tell me you won’t,” I challenge, raising an eyebrow. “It wasn’t fair to ask her to stay.”
“I know. But I’m not ready. Everything that happened that night was basically my fault, and as usual, you got stuck in the crossfire of my bullshit.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, the dark circles under his eyes proof that he hasn’t slept much.
I turn toward him. “Yes, you fucked up, but we’re not ‘us’ without you. If you need more time, take it. Just don’t let the martyr in you push her so far away that you guys can’t find a way back to each other.” I give him a pleading look. “I honestly don’t think my heart can take it.”
Link’s steel eyes soften, and he blinks a few times like he’s fighting with his emotions. “I think I love her,” he says quietly, and I can’t stop the chuckle that leaves my throat.
“I think I knew that before you did, Link.” I walk past him into my bedroom and sit down to put my socks on, and he follows, sitting down beside me.
“So what if she decides to leave?”
I let out a sigh. “Then I guess we will figure out how to go with her.” I glance at him, and I can see the veiled fear behind his usual calm façade. “She’s not like our parents. I know how often we’ve been burned in the abandonment department, believe me. But if she leaves for New York, she’s doing it for a dream—something she’s wanted for a while—and if we make her choose,she’ll just resent us. Let’s go against the gender norm and follow the girl for once.”
Link relaxes a bit, his head coming to rest on my shoulder. In general, I’ve always been the affectionate one, but lately, Lincoln’s been very touchy. It’s a big step for my emotionally closed-off best friend, and it gives me all kinds of feels. Plus, he smells really good.
“I guess I can find another old theater to open somewhere on the East Coast.”
I turn and kiss the top of his head, smiling against his hair. “I think it’s something to consider if it comes down to it.”
He nods absently, and we stand, heading to the living room to put on our coats and shoes.
“You know you still have to work with her on your film project, right?”
He sighs. “I know.” He looks over at me as he zips up his jacket. “I finally finished reading her screenplay last night; it’s really good.” He smiles sadly. “That night was important to her too. I wish I’d told her sooner.”
We grab our bags and walk out into the hallway to wait for the elevator. “You and me both, buddy, but we’ll fix it.”
He looks dubious, and I know it’ll be much harder for him than for me because he has to forgive himself first.
CHARLIE
Being back from winter break feels like I’m starting school all over again—I’m so nervous for some reason. I spent my time away gallivanting around Vancouver with Sebastian and Marcus, and it was actually just what I needed to clear myhead. My decisions about whether to go to New York for just the summer versus picking up my life and leaving are still up in the air until the spring. But my applications are submitted, and my stepbrothers assured me that they were proud of me no matter what I choose, though Marcus did give me a very stern (and unnecessary) lecture on making life decisions based on my feelings for what he called “stupid boys.” I appreciate the thought behind it, nonetheless.
Mornings in January are consistently in the low thirties. White frost clings to the grass and trees, sparkling in the sunshine, and as I trudge across campus, my breath escapes my lips in large white puffs.
I stop short when I see Trey pacing in front of the humanities building. I smile to myself as I approach him, my stomach fluttering. The boy is a work of art in the morning sunlight, all golden highlights and rosy cheeks. He looks like he’s talking to himself, but he pauses when he spots me, grinning boyishly, his sienna eyes wide and bright.
“Hey, golden boy. You okay?”
“That depends on whether I can kiss you or not.”
I step closer so that I have to look up at him, and suddenly the cold air seems to dissipate. “You can always kiss me.”
His eyes flash with need, and he grabs my scarf, yanking me forward so hard that I stumble into him, and he presses his mouth to mine eagerly. Our lips slide together, his tongue tangling with mine until everything around us is fuzzy.
“Get a room,” Brantley snarks as he walks by, and I pull back, panting, while Trey flips Brantley off. His gaze falls to mine, and he takes my hand and pulls me toward the Wolf Building.
“Trey, no. I have class.”
“Your fancy-schmancy English-slash-film class or whatever?”
I roll my eyes and laugh. “Yes.”
“Link just left from there; it’s canceled this week.”
“Oh.”
Just the mention of his name makes my stomach twist. I’ve been thinking about what Sebastian said about Lincoln's obsession with me for all these years. When I brought it up one night, Seb admitted that he had started coming with his parents to our parties when he was thirteen—the idea that he was this silent stalker in my life for years should probably unnerve me, but it’s so Lincoln-like that my stupid brain just found it endearing.
