Page 132 of All the way home

It doesn’t even matter that he hasn’t been steady or reliable in a long time, because right now he is, and it turns the knot at the base of her throat to stone.

Then she gives him a once-over and wants to laugh. The sensation might as well be relief; it feels the same.

Kieran is . . . well. As politely disheveled as it’s possible to be.

“Oh my God.” Rena covers her mouth with her hand.

Rolling his eyes, Kieran sits down next to her and rubs at his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Oh my God,” she repeats. “I think you’re maybe the only person on the planet who could seduce a stranger in ten hours.”

“Well, in my defense, I was only doing half the work.” Kieran smiles blearily. “Just . . . Rena.”

“Yeah?”

He pushes his hair back out of his eyes. “He’s . . .”

Apparently, Kieran doesn’t have the words to describe exactly what Zach is, but as she appraises his dazed expression and the way his mouth sits in a smile shape without ever quite getting there, Rena decides that she doesn’t need him to.

With a little shake of his head, as though snapping out of a trance, Kieran sits up straighter. “You said this was a code orange.”

Her smile fades. “Right.”

“You look . . .”

He doesn’t have to elaborate. She knows how she looks. Wearily, she sits back. “It’s just been a hard evening.”

Kieran raises his eyebrows in a silent and completely unsubtle joke to himself, leaning back in his chair like an overlarge feline. “Fill me in.”

“While you were making out with a stranger—”

“Not a stranger.”

“While you were making out with a virtual stranger—”

“Rena,” Kieran says.

A warning.

So she tries again. “While you were . . . gone, I was having an existential crisis.”

Slowly, he nods. “About?”

Rena fiddles with her sweater sleeve and stays silent.

“Reen,” Kieran murmurs, once he figures out that she’s not going to volunteer more information.

She wishes he would just know. Kieran does, sometimes, but right now his expression is so placid and patient that she realizes it doesn’t matter if he already understands, she’s going to have to explain it anyway.

She starts simple. “You remember Sahar, right?”

Slowly, Kieran blinks. “Do I . . . your best friend for all of senior year? Yes, Rena. I remember Sahar.”

“You know how . . . we haven’t really been friends for a little while?”

“I’d noticed that, yes. Is that what your existential crisis is about?”

“Sort of.” Rena pulls in a deep breath, intending to tell him everything, but all that comes out is, “I don’t want to marry Lucas.”