Her eyes widen. “Three days? From Rosenbridge?”
“Yeah.”
“Patrick, isn’t that a three-hour bus trip?” she asks, incredulous.
“I think so,” I agree. “But I got lost a couple of times. And then my phone died, so I had to ask for directions, but I didn’t actually know the address, just, like, the look of the neighborhood, so—”
Her hand tightens on my arm. “You’ve been wandering around for three days?”
“When you say it like that, it sounds bad,” I admit.
“Because itisbad,” she says, eyeing me up and down with concern.
“Okay, but I found it,” I point out, which is the important part.
There’s a sound from upstairs, footsteps that start slow before getting faster.
I don’t have to look to know it’s him.
My whole body does this weird, electric thing, like I just got plugged into an outlet.
Colten stands at the top of the stairs, his eyes wide as they meet mine.
His hair’s down, falling just past his shoulders, a little messy like he’s been running his hands through it. He’s in one of his long-sleeved dark purple shirts, sleeves pushed up and exposing his forearms.
His face—
His face is a mix of shock, anger, and something else underneath it all, something that hits me when I recognize it.
Worry.
“Patrick?” he says, but the way he’s saying it sounds…wrong. Thinner, like it’s been stripped of that usual quiet fondness he sometimes likes to pretend he doesn’t have for me.
I grin anyway, because I made it. I actually made it to him. I honestly kind of lost hope around hour forty-seven.
I take a step forward, and the room tilts. I stagger, just barely staying upright as Ms. Hazel tightens her grip on my arm and Colten races down the stairs.
Hm. Perhaps protein powder is not a complete meal. Colten always warns me about that. Also, I haven’t really been sleeping for three days…
He takes the last few steps two at a time before jumping onto the landing, grabbing my other arm to help keep me upright. His fingers dig in just enough to hold me without hurting.
“What are you doing here?” he demands. “Why do you look horrible?”
“I haven’t slept or showered in three days?” I reply, before shaking my head to dismiss all their coddling. “That’s not the point.”
“Whatisthe point, Patrick?” he snaps. His hands tighten around my arm like he’s not sure if he should help me or shake me.
“The point is that we have a really stupid superpower,” I say, very seriously.
He freezes, eyes wide with an amount of alarm that feels a bit dramatic, honestly.
Still, I nod, because yes, this is definitely the point. I’ve had a lot of time to think, too much time really. Especially once my phone died, what with all the walking and buses and strangers, but this seems right.
“And also the kissing thing,” I add, because I also thought about that a lot during the last seventy-two hours. “Which we should discuss at some point, when you’re ready. As soon as you’re ready, really.”
Ms. Hazel makes a small choking noise next to me.
Colten just stares. His expression cracks, just a little. His anger slips around the edges, something softer trying to break through like it’s been waiting for an opening.
