The way she dropped everything as if she wanted to disappear. And then… the saint-like way she walked over, gave me back what I’d forgotten.
Pathetic saint. That’s what I’d called her. That’s what my mouth spat out instead of the only thing I actually felt.
I’m sorry.
Jennie squealed softly, delighted at some shade Alex mixed for her, and I glanced over. Her cheeks were lit up, Alex’s lips tugged into a quiet, rare smile. They were in their own little world.
I wasn’t.
My leg bounced harder. I gripped the edge of my hoodie, knuckles white. Her face, her silence, her damn kindness replayed on a loop. And under all that, she was turning tohim.She was smiling athim.
I pressed the heel of my palm to my chest. My heart didn’t slow. Didn’t stop fucking pounding like she was still right there in front of me. Like she wasn’t slipping further and further away every time I opened my mouth.
“Joshy.”
I looked up, jaw tightening, and found Jennie tilting her head at me.
“I told you not to call me Joshy,” I muttered.
“If she calls me Lexi, then you’re fucking Joshy,” Alex chimed in, not even glancing up from his canvas, his strokes sharp, focused.
“Whatever.” I scoffed, dragging my gaze away.
Jennie leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “What’s wrong? You avoiding someone, so you came here to sulk?” Her tone was light, teasing, but it hit. Right in the ribs.
“I—” My voice caught before I could bite it back. I flicked my eyes between them, their stupid matching scrunch-faced expressions making it worse. “Sorry. Am I third-wheeling?”
“Ew.” They both said it at the same time, like I’d offended them by even thinking it.
I clenched my jaw, staring down at my bouncing knee.
“I…” The word came out rough, unwilling. I turned away, eyes fixed on the paint-splattered floorboards. “…want you to teach me sign.”
The sound Jennie made could only be described as a choke. “Excuse me?”
Alex finally looked up from his canvas, brow raised. Curious. Not surprised exactly, but not unaffected either.
Jennie blinked at me as if she hadn’t heard me right. “Sign language?Youwant to learn?”
“Yeah.” I forced the word out flat, controlled, as if it wasn’t already giving away more than I wanted them to know.
Jennie’s eyes darted to Alex, her grin widening with mischief. “Well… good news. Lexi here knows sign. He volunteers at my parents’ school all the time.”
Alex groaned, dragging his brush down the canvas harder than necessary. “Jennie.”
“What?” She laughed, holding her hands up innocently. “It’s true.”
“I know the basics,” Alex muttered, setting the brush down and rubbing his temples. “I’m not teaching him. If he’s desperate, you teach him.”
Jennie looked between us, eyes shining like she’d just stumbled across the juiciest secret.
“Oh, I’mdefinitelyteaching him. But…”—she squinted, leaning closer—“…why do you want to learn, Joshy?” Her tone was sly, testing, as if she already knew the answer but wanted me to say it.
I didn’t. My lips pressed into a hard line, my silence loud enough that even Alex flicked his eyes over, sharp and knowing.
“Forget it,” I muttered, standing up, tugging my hoodie down over my chest as if it could hide the weight pressing there.
But Jennie wasn’t letting it go. Not with that smile curving at her lips, not with the way she tapped her chin like she’d just put two and two together.
