“But it really isn’t you.” Okay, maybe a little bit. But I can’t exactly say,It’s you, but in the future. So I try a different side of the truth. “I just got out of something.”
“A relationship?”
“Not quite,” I admit. How to put this without sounding pathetic? “Worse than that. I had my heart broken, and I’m still not over it. It isn’t fair to lead you on. I don’t want to hurt you, because I do really like you.”
There. Heartbreak. Easy. No need to explain that I still hope to get Ellie back.
“You really like me,” he repeats, a confused smile tilting his lips.
I think of his words on Saturday.
I like you too, Joey Vasquez… Nomaybeabout it.
“I do,” I admit. Yet again.
“But no date.” His brow is furrowed, but he seems more confused than upset.
“I’m not ready for anything serious,” I explain.
“Who said it has to be serious?” he asks, pulling me up short. When I don’t immediately respond, he adds, “It’s a second date. I’m not asking you to fall in love with me.”
I feel… insulted, maybe? I’m the one trying to cancel our date, buthe’sdictating what it means. But also—ifheinsists it’s casual…
It’s not like I didn’t warn him.
“Okay, then. As long as we’re both on the same page,” I say slowly. Trying to decide if this is okay. If this makes me a monster.
“So the date’s back on?” he clarifies.
I nod. “The date’s back on.”
We start walking again. I glance at him, and only now do I realize what makes this Alex so different from the Alex I knew. And it’s silly, really, but I can’t help but comment.
“You can vape if you want to, you know. You don’t have to refrain on my account.”
He shoots me a guilty look but tries to mask it. “I don’t need to vape all the time. It’s not like I’m addicted or anything.”
I laugh because the Alex I knew wasdefinitelyaddicted.
“Besides, I’m thinking of quitting,” he says, shocking me before I remember that this is par for the course where Alex is concerned. He loves resolving to break bad habits.
“That so?” I ask dubiously.
Actually sticking to those resolutions? I’ll believe it when I see it.
“Yeah,” he says. “A little birdie told me those things’ll kill me.”
10
On Thursday, I have Intro to Archaeology, Two-Dimensional Design, and Intro to Creative Writing all in a row, so my day will end early. By the time I walk to creative writing, I have a sneaking suspicion that there is no future for me as an archaeologistora two-dimensional artist, but I hope to find joy in things I’m not naturally good at.
I have a little more hope for creative writing, but not much. I’ve never written anything creative in my life. Also, there’s the whole not-reading thing.
I step into the classroom, and all the blood drains from my face.
Helen.
I’m early, so only two people are there, sitting on opposite sides of the room. There are easily fifty or so seats, arranged in three semicircle rows in front of a central podium.
