Then Tara nudges my knee with hers, hard.
“Go,” she hisses.
Freddie crosses his arms. “You’re the one who hit send, Romeo.”
Ethan nods toward the hallway. “Don’t be an idiot, man.”
I stand there like a total moron for three seconds longer than I should and then I follow her.
“Delilah!” I call from the door. The neighbor’s dog barks. She’s getting on her bike and I have no shoes on, I run after her catching up with her a few meters down the road.
“Look, I know you don’t like me back?—”
“Jesus, could you say it in a douchebaggier way?”
The grin slips off my face.
“I’m being honest?—”
“You’re being performative.” Her voice is sharp, the kind of sharp that means she’s already regretting saying anything at all. “You didn’t even look at me when you sent it. You made it a game. You didn’t even ask me—you just threw it out there for your little audience.”
I stand up straighter. “That’s not what this was.”
“No? Then what was it, Troy? A casual confession? A flex in front of your friends to get me to react?”
She’s standing there, arms crossed, lit only by the glow of a streetlamp, her breath visible in the cold night air. And somehow, she’s still the most vibrant thing on this empty street.
“I didn’t mean for it to be like that,” I say quietly. “I panicked. I didn’t want to text anybody else. Hell, I didn’t have anybody else to text. And I do like you, I’ve been making thatpretty clear forweeks but trying to take it slow and be mature about it.”
Delilah lets out a bitter laugh. “Right. Because telling a girl you like her in front of a crowd, as a dare, screams stable emotional maturity.”
“Would you have believed me if I’d said it when we’re alone? Because I did, and then you basically ignored me for weeks.”
She falters for a second. Her lips press into a tight line.
“That’s what I thought,” I say. “You’d have rolled your eyes. Called it a line. Youdidcall it a line. Every time I’ve tried to be honest with you, you act like I’m setting a trap.”
“Because you are.” Her voice is too loud now, cracking. “You say things, and you look at me like, like I’m the only person in the room, and then you go back to being Troy Hawkins, everybody’s favorite guy.”
I step closer.
She scoffs, as she grips her handlebars. “You know what, I think you like theideaof me. You flirt, you charm, you send flirty little texts in front of a crowd—then what? Hook up with someone else the next night?”
My jaw tightens. “That’s not fair.”
“Oh, I’m not fair now?” She laughs bitterly. “You say you like me and then go sleep with half the campus?—”
“I haven’t slept with anyone since I partnered up with you.”
That stops her cold.
The wind rushes past us in the silence.
“What?”
“I haven’t. I’ve not even kissed anyone.” I drag a hand through my hair. “Not because I can’t.Because I don’t want to.”
Her mouth opens and then closes again.
