Or is this wrong?
His love is real. Right.
Slowly, I sit on the edge of his bed. “I should—” He shifts to make room. The wordgonever reaches my tongue. It’s not an option anymore. I should have said something when we entered the room. Now it’s too late.
“Okay,” I say, breathing shallow.
After a moment, I lie down beside him, and he pulls me close, one arm around my shoulders, positioning me like he does his things. With my head against his chest, the familiar sound of his heartbeat is beneath my ear.
Eyes wide, I stare at the wall over his bare chest, feeling the warmth from his skin for the first time since he came home at Christmas last year, and stayed for two nights.
Time rolls by.
His breathing slows.
Then evens out.
Within a few minutes or maybe an hour, Erik falls asleep. I shuffle, just once, and he growls in his slumber. So I freeze and lie very still. Awake. Painfully awake. In his dim dorm room with his thick arm around me, his roommate snoring across the gap that now feels too wide, the gentle hum of music from a neighbour, and a horrible question in my mind that I used to be so good at ignoring.
Is this wrong?
Not whether thisis love.I know what he feels for me is love—his affection has never been in question.
Just…
Is this wrong?
CHAPTER FIVE
blesk
Elise’s alarm goes off, playing Katy Perry’s “Firework.” My eyes flutter open to the faintly lit dorm room I now call home. Flashes of how last night ended hit me all at once. Konnor walking away without saying goodbye. Me frozen between them, mouth half-open with words that never came out.
Then his dorm room…
I fidget with my sheets.
Erik and I barely spoke on the walk back here this morning when dew was still clinging to the grass and leaves, and there wasn’t a single soul on the gravel path.
His silence was worse than anything. I’d seen that muscle in his jaw working as he frowned ahead. He isn’t settled, and last night isn’t resolved. I can tell.
Part of me wanted to bring up Konnor again, to defend him, to tell Erik to back off. Now that he’s had a good night’s sleep, felt in control, and made his point, maybe he’ll be reasonable. I keep replaying the look on my brother’s face, that hint of panic beneath his anger, and I wonder if he’s picking up on things I can’t see. My brother’s protectivenesshas saved me before. He is always on the lookout for warning signs I don’t notice until it’s too late. What if he sees something in Konnor that I don’t? The ‘Konnor character’ Erik described wasn’t the same person who’d made me laugh for over an hour, but maybe I’m the one who doesn’t see clearly. Trust doesn’t come easily to me. I believe trust has to be earned. Erik spent years earning it, didn’t he? I wish I could separate his overprotectiveness from my feelings and perspective, but they swirl together until I can’t tell which is real or mine. Why did I trust Konnor enough to walk away from The Grill with him in the dark? I practically lunged at him when he said he’d leave me alone. Was it his grin I trusted, or something else? Itwasseriously out of character for me to go off with a stranger…
Reaching for my phone, I check the time: 9:00 a.m. Luckily, I don’t have class until three thirty. My eyes move to the notifications: missed calls and two messages, all from Erik whom I only left four hours ago.
The first one reads:
Erik: I’m sorry about last night, Blesk. I freaked out when I couldn’t find you. I’ll talk to you after class today.
And the second:
Erik: Please pick up your phone, so I know you’re okay.
His name suddenly flashes again. My thumb hovers over the screen. Then I press “decline” and toss the phone onto my pillow, where it lands face-down.
I groan, curling around my stomach. There is something gnawing in the pit of my belly—deep and indescribable. I try to ignore it. My mind wanders through all the things I have todo this first week of uni. Find my classes. Hire books or hunt down second-hand ones. Find coffee.
Rolling over to face the room, I watch Elise click her alarm off, then look at me. I divert my eyes, gazing at the rug between our beds.
