“Wow. Shakespeare. Very clear.” He doesn’t let it go, obviously. He never does. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, watching my profile.
“You like her,” he says. Not a question.
“Yeah.” I don’t bother denying it. There’s no point. “I do.”
“How bad?”
I exhale, slow. The memory of her pressed against me in the backseat flashes like someone lit up a film projector in my skull. Her hands, her laugh, the way she looked at me afterward like I’d hung the moon.
“Bad,” I admit quietly. “Really bad.”
He lets out a low whistle. “That is impressively stupid.”
“Thank you for the support.”
“You’re welcome. I care.”
We sit in silence for a few seconds, just the distant gunfire filling the gap. My pulse is finally calming down. Kind of.
“So?” Adrien kicks my boot lightly. “What did you do, exactly? Talk? Make friendship bracelets? Hold hands and stare at the stars?”
I give him a look. “We drove. Talked. Went up to the viewpoint.”
“Yeah, yeah. And?”
“And drop it.” I snap at him.
He makes some fucked up faces at me and laughs.
I punch him, he punches me back, then we sit in silence once again. He takes the rest of the gear off, his clothes soaked with sweat, and leans back against the wall, tilting his head to look up at the concrete ceiling.
“You know this is a terrible idea, right?”
“I know.”
“Like the top ten worst decisions you ever made.”
“Top three,” I correct him.
He huffs a tiny laugh. “Nat is eighteen in a year. We take her and go,” he states firmly.
“That’s the plan,” I assure him.
I just can’t imagine not including Kiara in my escape plan now, but I don’t tell him that.
A year is a long time. I can figure something out.
We sit in silence, both of us slowly taking off all our gear and sweat-soaked clothes. I hope I’ll see her today since she was working late yesterday, going home with her mum.
“Is it too much that I want to see her every day?” I ask him.
“No,” he immediately answers, but keeps staring in front of him, zoned out. He’s been distant and zoned out often lately. It’s weird. Weird for him, since he’s the craziest person I know, always making trouble.
My phone rings and my throat tightens, my heart hammering as I see the name. I have to take it to the bathroom to pick it up so Adrien doesn’t see how fucking bad my anxiety is.
“Yes?”
“Be at Victoria’s today at ten p.m.” Sylvia’s voice snaps in my ear.
