“What do you mean?”
“When tensions got high at the party yesterday, you accused him of never backing off.”
“It’s because he’s stronger. He clearly wants all the attention for himself,” he explained. “But that has nothing to do with my love life,” William continued. “It’s my fault. If I’ve never been with anyone, it’s because I’ve been in love with the same girl for years without telling her how I feel. Without her ever looking my way. We always want something we’ll never have. It’s human nature.”
Hold on, what was he saying? That he was in love with someone else? My hopes of having a serious relationship with him evaporated in an instant.
“June, don’t get me wrong. I often end up going after the wrong people. But for the first time, I feel like there’s something real between you and me. Not just in a one-sided way.”
My vision got blurry.
“Are you still in love with her?”
He shook his head.
“No, that was just the prologue. I want the main part of the story to be about you and me. Together.”
I lit up when I heard William’s words. I flung myself at him, finding his soft lips ready to meet mine. It was like landing on a bunch of soft clouds. Our tongues mingled instantly. I didn’t put my hands on him. They stayed at the pool edge as William caressed my cheekbone with his thumb, sending a chill down my spine.
“Sorry, June. I was so . . .”
“You’re forgiven, Romeo.”
22
Ari
The pages about the American Civil War breezed past my eyes. My mind was completely clear, ready to absorb any information hidden in the paragraphs.
After partying for two hours, we holed up in Poppy’s room to work on the homework due tomorrow. The more I read, the more I felt like my concentration was at its peak and that the words would be etched in my brain.
“Ari?”
I’ll remember everything. Everything
I closed the history book and motioned to the girls. They took out their phones and put their notes on Poppy’s quilt.
Brian flung the door open.
“I’m going home. Want a ride, honey?” He looked around, and his expression darkened. “What are you guys doing?” he asked, seeing us as still as statues.
I couldn’t answer him. The last memorized phrase was still echoing in my head.
“Shooting the shit. Mind your own business, Brian,” Amelia replied. She was the only one who was quick-witted in these situations.
“Are you spending the night here?” he asked, staring at his sister inquisitively.
“I don’t know.”
Sometimes I felt like Brian was more possessive of Amelia than me. As predicted, he wasn’t happy about her vague response.
“You’re either going home or staying here. There aren’t any other options,” he said harshly. Amelia snorted, hiding a derisive chuckle.
“Yeah, stay here,” interjected Poppy.
Obviously, that made him more skeptical.
He stared at us for a while, but we knew what the issue was.
