“It means ‘Don’t give up’,” he says quietly, toying with the pen in his hand. “When it comes to you, it’s simple: As long as you don’t give up, I won’t either.”
“I don’t know what to say,” I admit. I can’t meet his eyes, so I keep staring at the words instead. Don’t give up. What does that even mean, exactly? He wants to give us another shot? He wants me to choose him?
“You don’t have to say anything,” he says. His voice is firm. “You just have to think about it.”
Think about it? Does he really think I’ll be doing anything else? Thinking about all of this is the only thing I can do. My entire summer is most likely going to be spent overthinking Tyler and Dean. In the end, I’m going to have to choose one of them.
“It’s getting late,” Tyler murmurs. “You should probably head back. I’m gonna stay up here for a little bit. Snake’s probably passed out by now, so here.” As he shoves the Sharpie back into his pocket he switches it for his keys, and he promptly tosses them to me without warning. Thankfully, I catch them before they fly over the edge of the building.
I analyze his expression, but it’s nonchalant. He just stares out over the city once again, his eyes avoiding mine. I’m not sure why he’s choosing to stay up here alone in the dark, but the more I consider it, the more I realize it’s most likely because he wants space away from me.
Stressed out, worried, yet happy, I slide off the wall and land softly on my feet. “Thanks for the shoes,” I say.
“No problem.”
I linger for a moment or two to see if he’ll say anything else before I head off, but he doesn’t even flinch. His eyes are locked on something in the distance, so I turn and head back inside, looking down at my new Chucks as I walk. The building is quiet, and I silently slip into the elevator and press the button for the twelfth floor, alone with my thoughts. Right now, they suck. I’d rather be asleep, because at least when I’m sleeping I don’t have to think about any of this.
The elevator door slides open and I trace my way along to Tyler’s apartment, his keys still hooked over my index finger. I fumble with them as I try to fit them into the lock, but Snake clearly hasn’t passed out yet, because the door swings open while I’m still attempting to get it unlocked.
He runs his blue-gray eyes over me, shaking his head at my pathetic attempt to get into the apartment. “Where’s Tyler?”
“Roof,” I say bluntly. I’m waiting for him to move to the side to let me in, but so far he doesn’t seem to even notice that I’m still standing out here in the lobby.
“You look like you could do with another beer,” he says.
I finally breathe then, exhaling for what feels like the first time in the past half-hour. “You bet I do.”
8
I don’t remember when I fell asleep. I don’t even remember how I fell asleep. All I know is that when I wake up I’m wrapped up in Tyler’s comforter and I can hear a voice murmuring my name. Yet I’m too tired to even attempt to open my eyes, so I roll over and bury my face into one of the pillows, groaning. It feels like it’s the middle of the night.
“Eden,” the voice says again, louder.
My head feels heavy and I’m starting to wonder how many beers Snake supplied me with last night. I don’t recall Tyler coming back down from the roof, at least while I was still awake. I do, however, remember sharing a cold pizza with Snake in the kitchen. I can’t even remember what kind it was. It could have been margherita or it could have been pepperoni. Either way, I don’t remember it being good.
“I have coffee,” the voice informs me, and immediately my attention picks up. It sounds like Tyler. “Vanilla latte, extra hot: just the way you like it.”
I yawn before rolling back over, slowly peeling my eyelids open, forced to squint as the sunlight streams in from the open window. My eyes take a moment to adjust, and when they do, Tyler’s the first thing I see. He’s arching his eyebrows, a gentle smile on his lips. I feel a little hazy, but I still manage to stretch my arm out, flexing my fingers and reaching for the cup in his hand.
“No way,” Tyler says immediately, drawing the coffee away from me and taking several steps back toward the door. “Not until you get up.”
I let out another soft groan before pushing back the comforter, forcing my body upright into a seated position. I widen my eyes and offer him a hopeful smile, but he shakes his head, so I roll my eyes and swing my legs out of the bed. I stand.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Grinning, he slips the cup into my hand, and I sigh with satisfaction. It’s burning-hot against my skin. “Nice pajamas.”
I glance down only to discover that I’m still wearing my skirt and white tank top from last night. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot my jacket curled up in a heap on the floor. “I was tired,” I say.