“Please, prepare for take off,” a clipped voice comes over the intercom, and I shut my eyes, always hating this part. When I do, I can almost pretend Will isn’t here, taunting me before possibly shattering my collarbone.
“Kind of ballsy of you to show up. Scott didn’t. But, he’s apussy and…you’re not.” I see him shrug when I pop one eye open, my conception of his presence here getting hazier by the moment.
He knows about Scott and Glenn?
He sees the question in my eyes, reading my mind. “Figured him out awhileago. Why do you think I’m so mean but keep him close?”
I freeze, dread clawing up my throat as I slide my gaze to his. This must be the build up, the cat playing with the mouse before he rips me to shreds for the horrible, horrible thing I did to him. “Will, I’m—” I try to say, but his hand flies up.
“You know, when I found out, Iwasangry. Like, here’s this guy I actually fucking trust, spying on me for my piece of shit dad…but then I realized I would’ve done the same thing in your shoes.”
“That’s not an excuse, though. What I did?—”
“I mean, you didn’treallydo it, though, did you? You kinda sucked at it. That’s why he had to get Scott.” He cocks his head to the side, good will and mirth dancing in his eyes. “You know I would say shit just to see if it’d get back to Dan?”
My mouth forms an oh and stays stuck, the shock of Will’s perceptiveness a reality I never considered. Just that—that I would underestimate him so much—has me feeling like the biggest idiot in the world.
“The thing is,” he leans into me, dipping his head, “you never gave him the juicy stuff, did you? I mean, you didn’t even tell him about finding me in the shower.” His voice peters off, the cockiness he uses to mask his vulnerability cracking.
“Wasn’t any of his business. You wouldn’t have even been that…fucked up if it weren’t for him,” I tell him, throat bobbing as heat fans my cheeks.
Finally, he leans back, putting some distance between us. “Yeah,” he huffs to himself, lost in thought for a long,protracted second. I turn toward the window, noting that we’ve leveled out, are already in the middle part of our journey to upstate New York. “Andy?”
I look back at him, my mouth in a grim line, ready for that final blow he keeps prolonging. “Yeah?”
“I forgave you a really long time ago,” he says softly, his heavy brows furrowing. “I don’t care. It’s…water under the bridge. I’ve literally done worse.”
“You should care,” I grit out, desperate for his anger. “I spied on you, Will. You don’t forgive me for that. You hit me. You…you never speak to me again.”
Eyes narrowed, disgust wells in his expression. “Do you hear yourself? You sound pathetic.” He shakes his head, scoffing as he pulls his hood up to block me out.
“You didn’t deserve that.” I search his face, watching as he rolls his eyes at me. “And you’re allowed to hold a grudge. You don’t have to…to just forgive all of us, all the time. Ben, Liv, Gen,me—we hurt you and you’re allowed to feel that.”
He cracks his neck, shifting his seat so he’s facing me. “My therapist told me that, too.”
“Yeah well…listen, for once.” I tense my jaw, exhaling as I readjust in my seat. Silence stretches out between us, and I can feel Will dancing on the edges of small talk. His gaze flicks to mine, antsy and childish, like despite my insistence that he hold me accountable for violating his privacy he can’t help but want to be my friend.
It’s the same sort of innocence I clocked in him the second we met all those years ago.
The moment he lets his resolve break, I suck in a small breath. “So…” he says, knocking his head to the side. “Sloane coming up to the game?
I blink over at him, waiting for the punch line, or for his neutral expression to downshift into malice, orsomething—butnothing. He doesn’t know. He’s still so on the fringes that he has no idea.
“We’re not—” I pause, the word like a stone lodged in my chest “—together.”
He squints at me, ripping both ear buds out his ears. “Since fucking when?”
My eyes fall shut, head shaking as I swallow the bitterness. “Doesn’t matter, Will, just?—”
“Oh. It doesn’t matter that the woman you’re like…in love with is just, not in your life anymore? You’re just fine with that?” Impatience lines the classic lines of his face. “What happened? That fucking blast?”
“It’s complicated.”
“It’s complicated,” he mocks, studying me with thinly veiled irritation. “Where is your decisiveness? You either love her or you don’t. It’s not complicated at all.”
I can’t stop the laughter that rumbles out of me, disbelief rising in my throat. “Not to rub salt in the wound but, what do you know about love?”
He pulls a face, a little shocked by my bluntness. “Uh,” he sputters, “I know I wouldn’t be on a plane to anotherstateif the woman I loved and I werecomplicated. She’s like…you’re fucking puzzle piece. You’re just gonna wallow in self-pity while your other half is out there, while yourlifeis out there?” He gestures out the window, where city lights now start to bleed through the cloud.
