“Thank you for informing me, sir.” I nod to him, gather my backpack, and leave without a backward glance.
The rest of the morning passes in a daze. I sit in class, but don’t hear a word that’s said. Something about metrics and data and sales. In Roman History, Quinn sits beside me, blabbing on like usual. Dr. Cassia says something that includes the wordsforumandcolumn, but I can’t tell you more than that with a gun to my head.
I shuffle out of the classroom with Quinn in tow, the words still pouring from her mouth. My mind isn’t here, but I nod along.
Silence, which has been lacking in my life since I met this girl, finally makes me stop and look up. Quinn’s studying me with a worried face.
“What's wrong?” she asks.
I shrug. “Nothin’.”
“Liar. What’s wrong?”
“I told you, nothing’s wrong.”
“I know me talking and you grunting is kinda our thing, but you haven’t even been doing that today. So I’ll ask again: What’s wrong?”
“Leave it, Chaos.”
“No. What’s wrong?”
“Leave it the fuck alone, Quinn!”
She pauses, her eyes wide. I’ve never yelled at her, but the questions are too much. I can’t tell this perfect girl with her perfect grades and perfect life plan that my own has gone to shit in the span of one meeting.
“Well, now I’m definitely notleavin’ it.” Her pathetic imitation of my drawl comes out in some exaggeratedForrest Gump-type accent. She looks up at me stubbornly, refusing to let me push her away. “Stop being a closed-off dick and talk to me.”
“Why?” I ask, exhausted and overwhelmed.
She steps closer, craning her neck to keep eye contact, and Ilet my eyes follow the curve to the place where her pulse beats. I want to gather her up in my arms and kiss her there. Want to fall into her and feel something besides this raging disappointment in myself.
“Because I’m your best friend. And if you can’t talk to your best friend about these things, they’ll eat you up inside. I won’t let that happen to you.”
Her eyes are pure steel, spine straight, hands clenched. She’s 100 percent certain about her role in my life. I’ve been over here analyzing every conversation, staring at her longingly, waiting for any sign that she wants me like I want her. And she’s been over there thinking about what a good friend I am. Hurts like a bitch.
But I also realize she’s right. I may spend most of my days dreaming of her, but sheismy best friend.
I sigh and drop onto the curb. She lowers herself down next to me and takes my hand between her small ones, leaning her head on my shoulder with her face tilted toward me.
“Please talk to me.”
I look down into her wide brown eyes. Her blond bangs fall in front of them, and I push them back.
She huffs. “I hate these bangs.”
“Yeah, I know.” She’s spent the better part of the past month bitching about them. Her eyes go serious again, settling in to wait me out.
“I’m going home. To West Virginia.”
“For Thanksgiving? I thought it was too expensive. I was going to surprise you and stay.”
My heart tightens in my chest. She really is the best person I know.
I steel myself before looking at her again. Time to rip off the Band-Aid. “No, Chaos. For good.”
She laughs nervously. “That’s not funny.”
“Good, cause it’s not a joke.”
