Before I could tell him you’re welcome, Jeremiah walked over and said, “You still have one left, Con.” His voice was strained, and I straightened my dress.
Conrad looked at his watch. “You’re right. I’m gonna head over to the psychology department. This will be a quick one. I’ll meet up with you guys in an hour or so.”
As I watched him go, a million questions ran through my head. I felt dizzy, and not just from being spun around in the air.
Abruptly, Jeremiah said, “I’m gonna go find a bathroom. I’ll meet you at the car.” He fished his keys out of his pocket and threw them to me.
“Do you want me to wait?” I asked, but he was already walking away.
He didn’t turn around. “No, just go ahead.”
Instead of going straight to the car, I stopped at the student store. I bought a soda and a hoodie that saidBROWNin block letters. Even though it wasn’t cold, I put it on.
Jeremiah and I sat in the car, listening to the radio. It was starting to get dark. The windows were down and I could hear a bird calling somewhere out there. Conrad would be done with his last exam soon.
“Nice hoodie, by the way,” Jeremiah said.
“Thanks. I always wanted one from Brown.”
Jeremiah nodded. “I remember.”
I fingered my necklace, twisting it around my pinky.“I wonder…” I let my sentence trail off, waiting for Jeremiah to prod me, to ask me what it was I wondered about. But he didn’t. He didn’t ask me anything.
He was silent.
Sighing, I looked out the window and asked, “Does he ever talk about me? I mean, has he ever said anything?”
“Don’t,” he snapped.
“Don’t what?” I turned toward him, confused.
“Don’t ask me that. Don’t ask me about him.” Jeremiah spoke in a harsh, low voice, a tone he’d never used with me and one I didn’t recall him using with anybody. A muscle in his jaw twitched furiously.
I recoiled and sank back into my seat. I felt as though he had slapped me. “What’s the matter with you?”
He started to say something, maybe an apology and maybe not, and then he stopped, he leaned over and pulled me toward him—like by gravitational force. He kissed me, hard, and his skin was stubbly and rough against my cheek. My first thought was,I guess he didn’t have time to shave this morning, and then—I was kissing him back, my fingers winding through his soft yellow hair and my eyes closed. He kissed like he was drowning and I was air. It was passionate, and desperate, and like nothing I had ever experienced before.
This was what people meant when they said the earth stopped turning. It felt like a world outside of that car, that moment, didn’t exist. It was just us.
When he backed away, his pupils were huge and unfocused. He blinked, and then he cleared his throat. “Belly,” he said, and his voice was foggy. He didn’t say anything else, just my name.
“Do you still—” Care. Think about me. Want me.
Roughly, he said, “Yes. Yes, I still.”
And then we were kissing again.
He must have made some noise, because we both looked up at the same time.
We sprang apart. There was Conrad, looking right at us. He had stopped short of the car. His face was white.
He said, “No, don’t stop. I’m the one who’s interrupting.”
He turned jerkily and started off. Jeremiah and I stared at each other in silent horror. And then my hand was on the door handle and I was on my feet. I didn’t look back.
I ran after him and called his name, but Conrad didn’t turn around. I grabbed his arm and he finally looked at me, and there was so much hate in his eyes I winced. Even though, on some level, wasn’t this what I wanted? To make his heart hurt the way he made mine? Or maybe, to make him feel something for me other than pity or indifference. To make him feel something, anything.
“So you like Jeremiah now?” He meant to sound sarcastic, cruel, and he did, but he also sounded pained. Like he cared about the answer.
