Page 86 of People Like Us

I slipped my hand into his, and the second his fingers closed around mine, warmth rushed straight up my arm. He tugged me gently into him until my chest brushed his, his free hand settling instinctively against the small of my back like it belonged there.

“So do you,” I whispered. His expression shifted into something hungry.

August’s hands slid slowly up my spine, fingertips counting each vertebra through the thick fabric of my dress, and a shiver rolled through me so hard I nearly lost my footing. He dipped his head, brushing his lips against the bare slope of my shoulder, and I inhaled sharply at the feeling of it. He smelled like cedar soap and the kind of conditioner that came in those tiny silver tubes with boxed hair dye.

He pulled me farther into the room.

“My shoes,” I whispered automatically as we crossed the threshold.

“It’s fine,” he whispered back immediately, like the rules had stopped mattering the second he saw me. That alone made my stomach twist.

August guided me toward the bathroom, his hand never leaving my back. When he pushed open the door, I stopped short.

The tiny room glowed gold. Cheap metallic streamers hung from the ceiling alongside paper stars exactly like the decorations back at Formal, except prettier here somehow, reflected endlessly in the bathroom mirror and softened by dozens of battery-operated candles crowded across the vanity. Their fake flames flickered against the glossy white walls and turned the cramped room warm and dreamlike.

It looked like someone had tried to recreate heaven using dollar store supplies. My chest ached at the sight of it.

August shut the door quietly behind us before reaching toward his phone resting on the counter. Music crackled softly from the speaker—gentle piano notes unfolding slow and familiar.

“Is this…” I laughed breathlessly. “Is this a classical cover of Teenage Dirtbag?”

August nodded once, lips twitching upward. “I thought it was fitting.”

A startled laugh escaped me, the sound bouncing softly off the bathroom walls. “You are nothing if not poetic, August Brooks.”

He reached for my hand again before I could say anything else, threading our fingers together carefully, as if a fragile thing lived between our palms. His other hand returned to my waist and he began swaying us slowly beneath the dangling stars.

I looked up at the decorations again. “How did you even get these?”

August shrugged with a crooked smirk. “I might’ve had help from a certain cheerleader on the planning committee.”

I shook my head immediately. “That sneaky bitch.”

“She loves you,” he said softly.

A dry laugh scraped its way out of me. “Believe me, I know.”

I rested my head against his shoulder as we turned slowly in the cramped little bathroom. His heartbeat thudded hard beneath my cheek. For a little while neither of us spoke.

Then August asked quietly, “Did you have a good time tonight?”

I closed my eyes. “I missed you the whole time.”

His fingers dragged lightly across the back of my shoulders, slow enough to make my skin ache. “You can miss me and still have a good time with them.”

I shook my head against him. “That doesn’t feel true anymore.” My voice sounded small to my own ears. “I think missing you feels too large lately. Makes it hard to feel anything else when all I can think about is how I’d rather be with you.”

August’s steps faltered. I felt his heartbeat palpitate violently beneath my cheek.

When he finally spoke, his voice came out rough and careful. “I feel that way too.” His hand tightened slightly at my waist. “Every time you leave this room, I think you take part of me with you.”

My eyes burned instantly. I tilted my head back to look at him. Candlelight flickered gold across his face, catching in his dark blonde lashes.

“I don’t want to do this anymore, August.”

His expression crumpled so quickly it hurt to look at. He nodded once, tightly. “I understand.” And he started to pull away. Panic surged through me instantly. I grabbed him harder, clutching fistfuls of his shirt.

“No,” I breathed. “No, I mean—” My throat tightened painfully. “I don’t want to just exist in this room with you anymore.”