I yawned again,a wave of exhaustion washing over me. Now that I wasn’t waiting for aknock on the door or a stranger to approach in the street, the tension that hadkept me alert non-stop was fading.
I could haveslept for a week.
“Go back to him,”Grandma said, patting me on the shoulder. “He’ll be missing you by now.”
I didn’tneed telling twice. The walk back to the big house was chilly and sobering, butnot quite enough to wake me all the way up. It was like being in a dream,surreal and distant, right up until I climbed back into bed beside Ashley.
He shuffledcloser to me straight away, half-awake.
“Missed you,” hemurmured, voice tiny.
“Missed you,too,” I sighed, nuzzling his hair and pressing a kiss to his forehead, wrappinghim in my arms for what might have been the last time.
“Love you,” Iadded once I was sure he was asleep.
TWENTY-FIVE
ASHLEY
“Where’s your boyfriend?”Maisie asked as she marched into the kitchen, heading straight for the cerealon the counter.
My stomach sank. This waswhat it was going to be like from now on, wasn’t it?
Did I say he wasn’t my boyfriend?Was there any point in fighting?
The stupid thing was that hewasn’t. No matter howmuch I wanted Logan to be my boyfriend, he wasn’t that. It was hard to tellwhatwe wereanymore—two people clinging to each other in dark times, maybe—but not… notthat.
“If you’re asking aboutLogan,” I began, not up to an argument today. “He’s in the shower.”
Maisie turned on me, a gleamin her eyes.
“Think he’ll mind if I gopoke my head into the bathroom?”
“Yes,” I said, deadpan,focusing on a text from Gabe that’d come through last night to ask if I wasokay, if he needed to come rescue me yet.
You can’t drive
Gabe was a City Gay, andthat, he’dtold me on the first day we’d met, meant he didn’t drive. He neverintendedto drive.
Which was fine. He’d been awed bythe fact that Icould, even though I’d sold my car a week laterbecause I’d gotten tired of trying to park it.
Maybe I’d get a caragain. That’d give me some freedom.
“I think he’d mind if youdeliberately walked in on him,” I continued. “And I think Mom and Dad wouldmind if you were rude to a guest.”
“Do you think they’d mindknowing you were screwing him?” Maisie asked. “IknowI got bribed togo out last night. Grandma’s never nice to me for no reason.”
“Grandma is nicer to youthan you’ve ever been to her,” I said. Not that Maisie was activelyrude—no one wasstupid enough to be rude to my grandma’s face—but she ignored her, mostly.
It wasn’t fair. None ofit was fair.
Maybe the best idea was forme and Grandma to run away together. We could have had a good life.
“So you are screwing him,”Maisie said. “He doesn’t look gay.”
I looked up, rememberingLogan’slecture from yesterday and drawing strength from it.
“What does gay look like?”
