“Oh, please.”
“I’m serious. I’m not dating Cami or anyone else. I told you that when we ran into her in the parking lot weeks ago.”
An ugly response was on the tip of my tongue, but I held it. “Maybe you should tell Cami that.”
Sean moved in front of me, cutting off my retreat to the living room. “I did. We talked after we all went to the movies. She is one hundred percent clear on me only wanting to be her friend.” His voice slowed. “I know what I want and it’s not Cami.”
If there was suddenly a Spitfire behind Sean and he was offering me the keys, I’d swear I’d somehow slipped back into my dream from months ago, only this felt more like a nightmare.
I slid back a step. A small step, but it was enough. “Whatever it is you’re doing, stop. You have no idea how bad your timing is. I couldn’t be nice right now if I tried, and I don’t feel like trying.”
The longest silence in the history of Jill and Sean stretched between us. And I didn’t know how to fill it.
He crossed to lean against the wall opposite me, but kept his gaze on me. The brown paper bag he held crinkled at the movement, distracting us both. “Oh, here. My mom sent this.” He passed it to me. Inside was a box of baking soda and what looked like a container of homemade soup. There was a little Post-it note stuck on the lid.
Split lentil. Feel better, sweetie.—Mrs. A.
The garlic and onion scent drifted up from the bag, and I imagined Mrs. Addison dicing up vegetables and adding herbs, then holding out a wooden spoon for whichever one of her kids was closest for a taste test. None of them liked split lentil, but Sean must have told her it was my favorite.
I pulled the note free, and I started to cry.
I was dimly aware of Sean prying the bag from my hands and looking inside, frowning when he couldn’t spot anything obviously traumatizing, then abandoning the bag entirely when I started to curl in on myself.
Standing wasn’t worth the effort, so I sank down to the floor. Sean’s warmth seeped into me as he followed me down, and when I didn’t move away, he gathered me in his arms. It felt so good to let him hold me. Good enough to ignore all the reasons I shouldn’t let him. I could barely remember the last time he’d just held me without anything messed up between us.
His mom made him hug me at his eighth birthday party when I’d wanted to leave because no other girls had shown up.
When we were in fourth grade, I twisted my ankle at the park by my house. It was getting dark and I freaked out when Sean mentioned going for help. So he stayed. It was three blocks to my house, and he ended up carrying me the whole way. He never once complained about getting tired, although I’m pretty sure I outweighed him back then.
The last time was when we danced together at his oldest brother’s wedding that past November. We didn’t know how to waltz, so we mostly just tried not to step on each other’s feet, laughing off disapproving looks from his stodgier relatives until the song ended.
I was so in love with him then.
I kept my eyes shut and tried to soak in the comfort from his body. So much better than a bath.
When I ran out of tears, Sean tugged up the bottom of his shirt to dry my cheeks. The gesture could have been awkward, or even comical, but it was neither of those things. It made me look into his eyes, pleading silently before I could find words. “How can we be like this? How can we still be friends?”
I jumped when Sean found my hand, tugged it into his lap, and trapped it between both of his.
“How can we not?”
I shook my head.
“My mom has pictures of us playing T-ball together.” He moved one hand to the soft skin inside of my wrist. “Those pegs on the back of my old bike? I got them so I could give you rides home from school back in elementary school. Jill, you used to pee in my pool and I still wanted to swim with you more than anybody else.”
I twitched when he began tracing my veins with his fingertips. “We both used to pee in your pool.”
“A lot of people did, but I still liked you the best.”
“You like everyone, Sean.” My voice cracked. “Everyone.”
“No,” he said. “I don’t. Some people I’ve never liked.”
Why was it so hard? Why couldn’t I just say it? I stared at him, but he wouldn’t look at me. I imagined the words passing through my lips. I imagined him finally hearing them and then…
I couldn’t imagine an answer that didn’t end us.
I tried blinking rapidly, but two fat tears spilled over onto my cheeks. “I saw my mom today.”
