I blink. It makes sense that she noticed that. I guess probably a lot of people did, but I hadn’t thought much about anyone but Su-Lin.
“I asked Emily if you were okay,” she says quickly. “She wasn’t talking behind your back or anything.”
“No, it’s fine. I mean, it’s not a secret.”
Jane smiles. “So what does it mean, exactly? You don’t like crowds?”
I open my mouth, then close it again. Having this conversation is always awkward; I really don’t keep my anxiety a secret—how could I?—but it’s still weird to have to explain to new people how it works when it doesn’t even make sense in my head. “Yeah, that’s part of it. I’m really more of a one-on-one person.”
I instantly regret this wording, but Jane grins. “Really?” she says. “That doesn’t sound like a bad thing.”
She sets down her soda and leans into me, her eyes flicking toward my lips again.
I want to say that I have a seizure, or sudden full-body paralysis. But really what I’m picturing is Su-Lin dancing across the room with Warren’s hand on her back, on her skin right where mine were last night as her mouth moved down my body.
I choked this morning. I hurt her and ruined everything. If I’d just been able to hold her while she woke like I wanted to, she wouldn’t have spent the day feeling betrayed. She gave me her first real sexual experience and then I dissolved into selfishness and threw it back in her face.
Now, my beautiful best friend, the girl I love more than anyone else on the planet, is wearing a dress that is at once sexy as hell and also symbolic of everything I want for our future.
And she wants to be in someone else’s arms.
My whole body feels hollow, like a cheap chocolate Easter bunny. Su-Lin has always been too good for me, and I should let her go, but this desperate part of me wants to hold on to her, whatever the cost, which is exactly what I did when I was with Candace, and I hate myself for it.
That’s why, when Jane rocks up and puts her mouth on mine, I let it happen.
Twenty-one
Su-Lin
Warren is talking to me—congratulating me on the launch, telling me it wasn’t really my fault Jason fell off that wall (because he assumes that’s why Jason is mad at me, and I’m not about to go into the real reason). I’m managing to respond in these little sound bites that approximate normal conversation, but I can’t pay attention because I’ve lost sight of Brendan and Jane.
My heart stutters. Did they just move further into the crowd?
Did they decide to get out of here, go somewhere more private?
“I’m glad he’s okay, though,” Warren is saying.
Yeah, Brendan’s okay. He wanted to dance with her, he waseagerto dance with her, and they’re dancing with her incredible, perfect body pressed up against him—they’re still dancing, right?—so he’s probably more than okay.
“Even if I hate that he’s being such a dick to you about it,” Warren continues, and my gaze jerks back to him quickly. Defensively.
“He’s not being a dick,” I snap at him, pulling back. “He’ssupposedto be dancing with other . . .” Oh. I trail off with sudden realization as I see Warren’s confused expression.
He was still talking about Jason.
I flush. I am the world’s biggest idiot, for so many reasons.
“I mean, uh, Jason’s supposed to still be resting,” I say, in the most neutral tone I can manage. “Head injuries, you know? And he’s not really acting like himself right now. I think he was just embarrassed.”
I am babbling, and Warren gets this look on his face that is no longer confused.
In fact, he looks like maybe he’s starting to understand way more than I’m letting on.
“Yeah, that makes sense,” he says, a little sadly.
I’m pretty sure it doesn’t, but I don’t know what to say or do to fix that.The guilt is gnawing at me again—should I even be dancing with Warren? He’s a good guy, and he likes me, and I amsonot available for anything more than a super-distracted dance. I’m taken already, crazy in love with my best friend. My heart is Brendan’s and has been pretty much from the day we met—even though Brendan may not end up wanting me, even though right now he may be realizing he can have someone he wants even more.
I still don’t know what to do, and I can’t keep swiveling my head around looking for Brendan. So I just lean my head against Warren’s shoulder and neither of us says anything for the rest of the song.
