“And you promise to answer it truthfully? No games. Just a simple yes or no, okay?”
With a feather-light touch, he tilts my chin upward and his warm gaze locks with mine. It lands on me with a look that’s somehow both soft and intense. This isn’t the cocky jerk I thought I knew, the one who always made me feel small or the person who barely said two words to me when I saw him in the dorm. “I promise you.”
“Do you remember how I was kind of weird about your glasses?”
His eyebrows pinch together in confusion.
“That’s not the question.” I shake my head. “I mean it is, and yes, please answer truthfully, but it’s not the one I’m worked up about.”
“Okay…yes, I remember.”
“Well—it’s because they’re the glasses Caden was wearing the day I ran into him in the bathroom—except that doesn’t make sense does it? That he’d have your glasses. It’d make more sense if you were wearing them. But that would mean that you were the person I ran into that day—the one who did a lot of nice things and took care of me. So I guess my question is, was that you? There? That day?”
Cole swallows, then nods. “Yeah, it was.”
“Great!” I say, pulling away from our embrace. “Awesome. I mean super cool!” It comes out three octaves too high and way too chipper.
“But I can explain—” Cole reaches for me as I turn and move as far away from him as possible.
“No need!” I squeak. “But just a quick follow-up question here. Why did you hate me? Do you still hate me, and uhm—where exactly do we stand right now, because I’m nonplussed.”
“What? I don’t—” He drags his hands through his hair. “Natalie, how could you have possibly gotten to mehating youfrom that?”
“I mean, I don’t think you do now, probably. But back then, you let Caden take the credit for our first meeting. I’m assuming it was something you didn’t want to revisit, which crosses off the possibility that it was enjoyable for you. Which, valid. I was unhinged that day. Today too apparently.”
“I didn’tletCaden do anything he?—”
I raise a finger up to him as if to sayone minute.“Oh no, actually still spiraling here, if you don’t mind.”
“By all means.” Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Cole toss his hands up in frustration, his dark hair sticking out at odd angles from dragging his fingers through it.
“Not to mention thesecondtime we met—which I thought was the first, mind you—you barely looked at me before walking out of the room like I was the last person you ever wanted to see again. Which, I guess fair, considering we were sitting on your side of the room and that was probably rude, but I didn’t know.”
He opens his mouth, but I keep going before he has time to say anything more.
“And then every time since then, there’s clearly been a tension between us, and until recently it wasn’t exactly pleasant. But now it kind of is, isn’t it? Which only makes things more confusing, because it seems like you like me.”
“I do.”
“Right. Right. Cool. Cool.” I pace over a faded spot on my carpet. The same spot I’ve paced for years and years, trying to figure out how to put myself more neatly into a box, how to make myself palatable or how to stop caring about what other people think of me—something to quiet the spiral. But the spiral never ends. It twists, and sometimes it’s quieter than other times, but it’s always there, always begging someone to see me and love me for me, not whatever version I put out in the world to be tolerable or liked.
I’m ugly right now, the worst version of myself, spewing nonsense and talking a thousand miles a minute, and suddenly I see every reason why Cole didn’t want to be around me. I can’t be anyone else around Cole because I’m always…me. No one besides my parents has ever found that charming. And he saw that from the very beginning.
“So, I guess what I’m really struggling with is where do we stand, because I’d get if you just hated me but you’re here and flirting?—”
“I never hated you, Natalie. Not for one fucking day.” Cole’s frustration slices through my rambles. He slams his fist down on my dresser, the sharp thwack echoing in the sudden silence, a palpable tension hanging in the air. His chest rises and falls in a pronounced fashion, and I can’t tell if that’s all he has to say, or if he’s wrestling with saying more. “You want to know where we stand? Fine. Here it is. I’m in love with you. And that day where I ‘barely looked at you,’” he makes air quotes with his fingers. “I had spent the day nearly freezing to death trying to find you and when I saw you on my bed and you didn’t recognize me—yeah, I needed a second.”
The words explode in my chest, too loud in my ears to even comprehend fully. Cole shakes his head, eyes wide, a wry smile tilting his lips, like he can’t believe he’s saying any of this either. “Because the truth is since the moment I saw you, I’ve been pathetically and stupidly in love with you,” he adds, his voice low and self-deprecating, as if he’s admitting some kind of tragic flaw about himself. “And I don’t know what the hell I’m doing when I’m with you ninety-five percent of the time.”
A laugh bubbles up from somewhere deep inside of me, a ridiculous sound that doesn’t fit the situation at all, but it’s all I can do. The thought of him, of Cole, The captain of the hockey team, the one person who never give me the time of day, in lovewith me? Not just in love, but so lost in it, in me, that he doesn’t know what to do with himself? It’s too absurd to process.
Cole’s expression darkens immediately. His lips press into a thin line. “Don’t,” he says, taking a step toward me. “Don’t you dare do that.”
“Do what?” I ask, stepping back on my heel. My back finds the wall behind me and the cat poster crinkles.
“Laugh off what I feel. You asked me to be honest.” He takes another step forward, leaving barely any space between us. My chest heaves, brushing against his. “So here it is. I’m here for you. Not just to be your fake boyfriend or help you out—although I’ll be honest, getting to randomly kiss you has been nice.”
He cracks a smile. “No, not just nice. It’s beenreallyfucking nice.”
