"Okay," I say finally. "Okay."
—
The minuteI get a text that she’s been seen heading back to the dorm, I grab my keys. "Let's go," I say, and Luca follows.
The drive to her building takes fifteen minutes. I park illegally on the street, not caring if I get towed.
"I'll wait here," Luca says. “Go."
I get out of the car and walk to her building. I got a faux keycard for her building made ages ago; it’s nothing to get inside. I take the elevator to her floor, my heart pounding so hard I can hear it. When I reach her door, I pause. What am I going to say? What can I possibly say that will make this okay?
I knock.
Nothing.
I knock again, harder. "Savannah, it's me. Please. I just need to talk to you."
Silence. Then, finally, I hear movement. The lock turns, and the door opens.
And there she is.
She looks exhausted. Her hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail, her face is bare of makeup, and there are dark circles under her eyes. She's wearing sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt, and I still think she looks absolutely fucking beautiful.
I didn’t stop to think whether or not her roommate would be here, but I see nothing past Savannah standing in the doorway. “Can I come in?”
"Romeo." Her voice is flat and emotionless. "What are you doing here?"
"I needed to see you. I needed to know you're okay."
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine. You look?—"
"I look tired because I just flew back from Charleston. What do you want?"
The coldness in her voice stops me. This isn't the Savannah I know. This isn't the girl who looked at me like I was something worth seeing. This is someone else. Alarm flares in my gut.
"Can I come in?" I ask.
"No."
"Savannah, please?—"
"No, Romeo. You can't come in. You can't—" She takes a breath, steadying herself. "You can't be here."
"I've been trying to reach you. You didn't respond to any of my calls or texts?—"
"My father took my phone."
I feel like I’ve been slapped. "He what?"
"He took my phone. The moment I got home. He said I couldn't be trusted with it." Her mouth twists. "There’s going to be more rules now.”
"Savannah—"
"Do you know what this weekend has been like? Do you have any idea?" Her voice is rising now, emotion breaking through the coldness. "I had to sit through dinner with Thad and my parents, planning a wedding I don't want. I had to smile and nod and pretend everything was fine while they discussed venues and guest lists and—" She stops, her hands shaking. "And the whole time, all I could think about was you. About what you did. About what we did. About how you stole my birth control and lied to me and?—"
"I know. I know what I did was wrong—" I can hear the desperation edging into my voice. “I’ll make it up to you, Savannah. I’ll prove it to you. I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t the right way to handle it.”
