I shake the thought out of my head as I stalk past the area I last saw Rush and Ava. I make sure to keep my head turned the opposite direction in the event he’s got her pinned to the wall. I can picture her head bent back in ecstasy, and even the visual of him making her that way drives me insane.
The hallway is clogged with bodies—mostly girls waiting in line for the bathroom and a few guys hitting on them as they wait. I keep suggesting they put up a sign that leads to a lesser-known bathroom just around the corner that hardly ever has a line, but it’s yet to happen. Next time, I’ll take it upon myself to make the sign. I could sure use a sign myself right about now. Am I destined to be with Darcy? Or is there someone else out there for me? But who could ever come close to—
A body slams into mine as I crest the corner—Ava.
Normally, this is where I would apologize and move on. This is where I would tell a dude to watch where he’s going because I’m so pissed off at the world right now. Where I’d politely apologize to a girl before making sure she was all right. But this isn’t a dude. This isn’t just any other girl. It’s her. And I can’t move. Can’t breathe. I can hardly stand the pummeling of my heart as it thrashes from my chest to hers.
Her mouth opens as if to say something, and not a word comes out. But this dark shadowed hall, her hair, those lips, her body pressed tight to mine, it’s all a little too real, a little too much of what I want and need. All I want to do is have my arms find their way around her waist, to press my forehead to hers, to close my eyes and just breathe in her sweet, sweet scent.
Ava offers a slight nod as the moment grows quickly stale.
A flood of words struggles to breach the dam, but I won’t let them. This isn’t the time or place. And God only knows if I can get them out without turning into a maniac.
I want to touch her, kiss her, and I can’t. Those affections, those feelings can never be mine again. I can’t hate someone she loves and think that we’d ever work out.
Ava takes a full step back with disappointment filling her features. The moment stretches out like taffy, slow and far sweeter than it needs to be. And just like that, she ducks back into the crowd.
I linger in the dark for an unsettling amount of time until Darcy springs into view.
“Here you are!” She pulls me in, and that jovial smile of hers slides right off her face. “Are you okay? I haven’t seen you this upset since you lost your sister. Is this about Steph?”
“No.” I pump a dry laugh.
“Okay, good.” She takes up both of my hands in hers and rocks them between us. “It’s about a girl, isn’t it?” Tears come, and she blinks them away.
“Yes.” There. The truth fits like two left shoes, but at least it drains the heavy sludge I’ve been lugging around in my chest.
Darcy narrows her gaze to mine. Her affect softens as if she’s surrendering any false hope she was holding on to. “Who is she, and what the hell did she do to you?”
And just like that, I tell Darcy everything.
It’sstrange how the first time Darcy and I broke up the two of us were inundated with tears, with fears of what a future without one another might hold. And here we are many months later, seated at a table at the Black Bear of all places, tossing around memories like they were dimes in a fountain—something shiny that sits just below the surface of time that still shimmers with beauty when you look at it.
It was Darcy’s idea to come here, and this time I didn’t fight it. Something has shifted in me, and suddenly the Black Bear and all of the people that I was running from seem unimportant now. For so long my world rotated around Stephanie’s death. I had transformed myself into an entire solar system of anger and resentment that orbited Stephanie’s casket like the sun. But these last few weeks, my heart, my myopic worldview had shifted to someone very much alive, Ava Vincent.
Baya brings us plates brimming with food and promptly disappears with a grin. Darcy thought it was only fair we officially begin anew as friends over burgers and fries. Now that she’s home for the holidays, she wants to explore all of the ins and outs of Hollow Brook that we weren’t exposed to in The Hills.
“I’ve always been bent on going out of state.” She shakes her head while grazing on a fry. “But Whitney Briggs is pretty awesome. Who knew, right?”
“You thinking of transferring?” I’m not sure I would mind. I’ve had Darcy around in my life for so long she feels like a fixture.
“Are you kidding?” She picks up another fry and lobs it at me. “And watch you making out all over campus with Dream Girl? Count me out. I’m strong, but I’m not that strong.” She grimaces. “I really do want you to be happy, though.”
Dream Girl. She didn’t say it with an ounce of sarcasm, and I marvel at that.
“She is a dream girl.” Thoughts of Ava’s sister manipulating mine to the edge of the cliff and forging a suicide note run through my mind. “But Ava belongs to someone else.”
“She doesn’t belong to someone else. You’re rejecting her.” She reaches across the table and gives my fingers a tug. “If Ava finds someone else, it’s because you pushed her into his arms.”
Rush comes to mind. Those kisses he peppered her neck with a month back, all those late night chats he’s been having with her. It’s ironic. The more time my best friend spends with Ava, the less I want anything to do with him.
“You can do this.” Darcy nods as if offering a pep talk before a big game. “If she’s that special to you, then you’ll climb right over this obstacle. Not caring about her sister is one thing, but not caring about her is entirely another.”
Darcy’s words warm me straight to the bone because she’s right.
“It’s not that I don’t care about her sister—I downright hate her.”
Darcy bounces back in her seat as if I just knocked the wind out of her sails. “Grant.” She shakes her head as if the idea of me hating anyone seems improbable. “She’s not well. Besides, hate takes far too much energy to keep up. And I know what Stephanie would say.” Darcy knew Steph, so the thought of some beyond the grave knowledge coming my way has me at the edge of my seat, literally. “You don’t have to hate her.”
