Page 90 of People Like Us

Heat climbed into my face immediately. “Yeah,” I said softly. Then, after a beat: “About that…”

August’s brows furrowed slightly. I twisted the blanket nervously between my fingers. “I don’t have an eating disorder, August.”

The confession came out slow and cautious, like I was afraid the truth itself might hurt him. His expression shifted instantly—not angry exactly. Just confused.

“Then why did you let me—”

“I thought it might be easier to let you think that,” I interrupted quickly, “than to explain that my parents just don’t think to feed me.”

August’s face crumpled in realization. His taught shoulders went slack with the weight of it.

“Fuck,” he whispered hoarsely, one hand immediately rising to cradle my cheek. “Lola, I’m so sorry.” His thumb brushed shakily beneath my eye. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”

I shook my head quickly. “No, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” My throat tightened unexpectedly. “If I’d known about Morgan sooner, I would have. I just…don’t really know how to explain to people that my dad cares more about looking like a good father than actually being one.”

His mouth tightened hard before softening again into something unbearably tender. “I’ll feed you,” he said quietly. A kiss pressed against my cheekbone. “I’ll take care of you.” Another kiss. Softer this time. “I’ll be good to you.” The final kiss landed at the corner of my mouth before lingering there long enough to make my heart ache.

I closed my eyes briefly. “It won’t be like this forever,” I whispered.

August stayed quiet, listening.

“I’m going to move in with Mr. Hayward and his wife after graduation.” Saying it aloud made the future feel suddenly fragile and real all at once. “Then I’ll go to college.” I looked up at him carefully. “And one day you and I will have our own house somewhere far away from here.” My voice softened. “And we’ll never have to think about this place again.”

For a moment August just stared at me. Not skeptical, but sad.

“I didn’t know you and Mr. Hayward were that close.”

I shrugged lightly. “I think he just likes my writing.” A small laugh escaped me. “He thinks I’m gonna end up on the New York Times bestseller list someday and wants a spot in my acknowledgements.”

August’s entire face lit up. “I didn’t know you wrote.” The sudden excitement in his voice made me unexpectedly shy.

I ducked my head slightly. “He’s the only person who’s ever read my stuff.” I traced my fingertip over the ring on my hand. “Maybe I’ll show you sometime.”

August smiled so wide it made me mirror it instantly.

“I’d like that.” He hesitated, almost bashful now. “I like writing too.”

“I know,” I teased softly. “You’ve had that ‘Draft One’ folder sitting on your desktop all year.” I narrowed my eyes at him playfully. “You ever gonna tell me what’s in it?”

August immediately shook his head. “You wouldn’t believe me if I did.”

“Will you show me when it’s finished?”

After a beat, he nodded. “Yeah.” Something about the answer felt heavier than it should have.

August leaned in then and kissed me again, slow enough to make my stomach twist. He was so careful— like he was trying to memorize the shape of my mouth.

When he pulled back slightly, I whispered, “I love when you kiss me like that.”

His thumb brushed softly across my jaw. “Like what?”

I looked up at him through the dim gold light. “Like I’m yours.”

The expression that crossed his face nearly undid me. August’s thumb drifted to my lower lip, tracing it gently before he spoke.

“I meant it when I said it doesn’t bother me that you have a boyfriend.” His voice stayed quiet, controlled. “But it’s always bothered me watching him kiss you.” His gaze lowered briefly to my mouth. “Even before you asked me to tutor you.”

I frowned slightly. “Why?”