Page 30 of When We Were Young

She practically whispered. Maybe that’s what it is. She whispered, so I misunderstood her. She can’t mean that.

“What don’t you want? If we’re going too fast or something, we can slow things down.”

I can hear the desperation in my voice.

She turns her head toward the door, and a tear slides down her cheek. She doesn’t even bother to wipe it away, but I can’t stand to see it. Can’t stand to see her sad... hurting. Without thinking, I brush the back of my hand down her cheek until the tear is gone.

“Please don’t do this. Whatever it is, or whatever happened, we can figure it out together.”

The anguished words pour from my mouth, and I cup the side of her face and gently turn her head until she’s facing me.

She finally lifts her eyes to meet my gaze.

“Lizette, this—you and me—this is everything. I know we’re young, but... but I’m pretty sure I lo⁠—”

“Please don’t. Don’t say that.” She backs away from me, and my stomach drops. “I, uh, need to lock up. Can you just go?”

I open my mouth to object, but then she pleads with me.

“Please, Holden.”

I stare at her.

This can’t be happening.

I want to beg her to stop this, to sit and talk with me—but I don’t.

I don’t because she looks as though she’s in pain.

So, I grab my bag, take one last look at her beautiful face, and walk out the door.

When I get to the bike rack, I take my time hunched over, unlocking my bike, waiting for her.

About thirty seconds later, she rushes past me.

As slowly as I can, I pull my bike out and glance up toward her car, expecting to see her pulling out of the parking space. She’s not. Instead, she’s leaning over the steering wheel with her head down.

Everything in me wants to run over to her and make her talk to me.

But I don’t.

Because she’s hurting because of whatever I did to cause this—and fuck, I wish I knew what it was so I could fix it—and she asked me to leave.

And when someone you love is suffering, you’ll do whatever you have to do to stop it.

Even let them leave.

Chapter Thirteen

Lizzie

Iwould literally rather brush my teeth with toilet water than go to a fraternity party tonight, yet here I am about to walk into one. What’s worse, I’m here with Landon Carter. And that makes me nauseous.

To be fair, I’ve been queasy for most of the two weeks since I ended things with Holden. Each text or call from him that I leave unanswered only worsens the burning in the pit of my stomach. I keep seeing the look on his face and hearing the pain in his voice when I asked him to leave. I thought maybe this would hurt a little less each day, but it hasn’t. Not yet.

What if it never does?

Landon has led me off to the side of the door for a lecture before we go in.