Her smile barrels through me and here I am again, standing in her light. Goodness pours through me and all I can see is the girl in front of me and the life we could build together, but then I feel it. The hope morphing into worry, pain, uncertainty.
“You okay?” she asks, recoiling slightly, biting her lip as insecurity racks her own features and I know she feels that shadow of doubt, too, hears the distant rattle of skeletons, threatening to escape the closets we've stuffed them into.
“I’m fine, just a long day.” I smile but I know it doesn’t reach my eyes. The weight is back, sitting square in the middle of my chest. I open the door for her, not meeting her eyes.
“Hey—” Her voice coaxes me to look at her and I can see the worry, much more present now, the sides of her mouth turned slightly down. The urge to pull away from her, to run and hide, is so strong I’m sure she can see it written all over my face. It was easy to fall in love with Gen when I didn’t realize how much she meant to me. When I didn’t realize what it would do to me if I lost her.
“You sure you’re okay?” Her fingers brush mine, her voice quiet, shy, and so unlike her. I finally really look at her and even with the mask I see her there. All of her. The insecurity, the worry, but overpowering all of it, the belief that this will work. Her cards are all laid on the table, and her eyes beg me to play my hand. And that—thatscares the absolute shit out of me.
“Maybe we keep us,” I gesture between myself and her, “just us for one more night.” I swallow, seeing the rejection and hurt slip across Gen’s face—a flicker, barely there and already gone. She rolls her lips together, trying to hide the pain I caused her. I don’t know why I’m doing it but before I can take it back, she nods.
“Yeah…maybe we should.”
27
Gen
The steady silence backlit by the hum of Grant’s truck feels suffocating, my mouth a tight line as I use all my energy to keep my tears from falling. I feel more than mortified—I feel wrecked. Wrecked over the fact that Grant was able to let this one detail, this one secret, decide our fate, completely paint his view of me. But more than anything I feel angry, at myself for feeling so disappointed, and at him for making me believe that things could be different.
As we approach the cobble stone street that the Greek life houses are stationed on, it’s apparent the party is in full swing. Red solo cups litter the street and a few drunken freshmen in slutty animal costumes are shrieking the lyrics to Monster Mash. I don’t want to be here. No part of me is ready to face these people, not after I just got rejected by the one person I didn’t think would reject me. Still the need to climb out of this car and find Sloane or Jean overpowers my flight instinct. Maybe I can beg them to take me home early. Make up an excuse, if I have to. Anything to not haveto pretend. Grant parks and we step out of the car, both of our paces a little too quick.
“Gen…” He lightly grabs my arm and I finally meet his eyes. “We can still go in together if you want…” His voice trails off with something akin to pity and it makes my skin crawl. I don’t need him to feel bad for me. I chose this, to come here with him, to throw caution to the wind.He’sthe one having doubts and over what? Some stupid secret that isn’t even mine to tell?
As if on cue at the top of the driveway, a crowd of people erupt in loud cheers as Will Chapman is turned upside down to do a keg stand. I know keg stand Will. He’s the one that comes out when he’s sunken so low he feels the need to drown his sorrows in whatever alcohol he can find. I feel that pinch of worry settle deep in my stomach. I let out a small breath that must come out more like relief and less like the dread curving its way through me, because Grant immediately stiffens at my side.
“Never mind.” His jaw is set and I feel fury bubble beneath the surface of my skin. I know I need to put some space between us before I say something I’ll regret.
“I’m going to go find Sloane.” I walk past him, not turning back to see if he’s okay, even though I feel that thread between us tighten, trying to tug me back to him.
When I get to the house the keg stand crowd has dispersed, and I see Will walk in, two different girls on his arm, reflecting the most stereotypical version of himself. The irony of the situation isn’t lost on me: Will blissfully unaware and me standing right behind him. I can hear him slurring from where I’m standing, trying to explain the game of basketball to the girl on his right. He stumbles slightly as he leads them to the room across from the kitchen and I feel the need to reach out, to shake him. Totell him to not go down this bottomless pit again. Instead I round the corner with my head down, swiftly moving into the kitchen, and barrel directly into Scott, who almost spills the shot glasses he’s holding.
“Gen? Is that you?” Scott squints his eyes, a disgusting grin spreading across his face. His eyes trace every curve of my body and I instantly regret my choice of outfit. I would blame Sloane, since she put together my Cleopatra inspired ensemble, but it would be a lie. I felt amazing the moment I stepped in it, like I was moving into my final form or something. But that was when I thought Grant would be by my side.
“You look hot. Do a shot with me.” He licks the sweat blooming on his upper lip away and I can’t help the look of disdain I know is on my face.
“No thanks. I’m fine.” The only reason I’m being polite to him is because I know Will is only a few yards away and I’m trying to avoid a scene.
“C’mon—” He leans in, his hot vodka scented breath polluting the air around me. “I know you’ve wanted this for a while.” He winks at me and leans in even more. I’m about to hit him over the head with the gold clutch Sloane lent me when he jolts back suddenly.
“She saidno.” A low growl comes from a broad presence behind me and I’m flooded with relief as I feel Grant’s hand dig into my waist.
“Oh.” He squints his eyes, as if he’s trying to solve the world’s most obvious puzzle. “Are you guys a thing?” Scott’s face spreads into a knowing smirk even though his body is still rigid, clearly nervous by the hulking man whose arm is now guiding me behind him.
“Scott—if you don’t fuck off right now, I will beat the living shit out of you.” Grant’s voice comes out grave, andeven I feel for the guy as he turns, quickly spilling the shots in his hands and bolting for the back door. The warmth from Grant’s arms hasn’t quite left my waist and I’m about to let myself sink into him, when I see Will. He’s coming from the other side of the house but our eyes catch for just a second, and I feel myself lurch away from Grant’s grasp.
I don’t know why I do it, but I do, the absence of his hands like an omen. I turn around just in time to see the hurt slice through Grant’s features.
“Really, Gen?” He rips the mask off his face combing his hand through his light brown waves.
“Grant, I—” I don’t know what to say because nothing can reverse my reaction to his hand on my skin when Will’s eyes were on me.
He shakes his head, disappointment and betrayal shadowing every crevice of his face. Turning, he pushes through the crowd at the base of the stairs. I glance back at Will who’s looking at me with his own mask pushed up. His eyebrows are knit, a mixture of confusion and a sadness so deep you could drown in it. It’s the sadness I’ve, until now, helped him carry. I shut my eyes and breathe through my nose, pushing down the memories of the night Lily died and all the nights I spent with this boy I loved for so long. I turn my back on him, push past the same group and follow Grant up the stairs.
The hallway is empty, but I hear a door click closed near the end of a long hallway to my left. I rush toward it pushing it open and there he is, sitting on a stranger's bed, head buried in his hands.
“Grant, let me explain.” My voice is breathless and hoarse—it doesn’t feel like my own. My phone rings and I quickly ignore the call without looking, letting it roll to voicemail.
“Explain what?” His eyes meet mine, his tone venomous and the hurt reverberates between us. “Why you keep choosinghim?”
