A heavy pause.
“Did you really love him . . . ?”
I hesitate before answering. “I think so? I don’t know?” I sigh. “Is it possible to love someone and then stop loving them? I don’t think I even know what love is.”
Kenji blows out a breath. Runs a hand through his hair. “Well shit,” he mutters.
“Have you ever been in love?” I ask, turning on my side to look at him.
He stares up at the sky. Blinks a few times. “Nope.”
I roll back, disappointed. “Oh.”
“This is so depressing,” Kenji says.
“Yeah.”
“We suck.”
“Yeah.”
“So tell me again why you like Warner so much? Did he, like, take all his clothes off or something?”
“What?” I gasp, so glad it’s too dark for him to see me blushing. “No,” I say quickly. “No, he—”
“Damn, princess.” Kenji laughs, hard. “I had no idea.”
I punch him in the arm.
“Hey—be gentle with me!” he protests, rubbing at the sore spot. “I’m weaker than you!”
“You know, I can sort of control it now,” I tell him, beaming. “I can moderate my strength levels.”
“Good for you. I’ll buy you a balloon the minute the world stops shitting on itself.”
“Thank you,” I say, pleased. “You’re a good teacher.”
“I’m good at everything,” he points out.
“Humble, too.”
“And really good-looking.”
I choke on a laugh.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” Kenji says. He shifts, folds his hands behind his head. “Why do you like the rich boy so much?”
I take a tight breath. Focus on the brightest star in the sky. “I like the way I feel about myself when I’m with him,” I say quietly. “Warner thinks I’m strong and smart and capable and he actually values my opinion. He makes me feel like his equal—like I can accomplish just as much as he can, and more. And if I do something incredible, he’s not even surprised. He expects it. He doesn’t treat me like I’m some fragile little girl who needs to be protected all the time.”
Kenji snorts.
“That’s because you’re not fragile,” Kenji says. “If anything, everyone needs to protect themselves from you. You’re like a freaking beast,” he says. Then adds, “I mean, you know—like, a cute beast. A little beast that tears shit up and breaks the earth and sucks the life out of people.”
“Nice.”
“I’m here for you.”
“I can tell.”
“So that’s it?” Kenji says. “You just like him for his personality, huh?”
“What?”
“All of this,” Kenji says, waving a hand in the air, “has nothing to do with him being all sexy and shit and him being able to touch you all the time?”
“You think Warner is sexy?”
“That is not what I said.”
I laugh. “I do like his face.”
“And the touching?”
“What touching?”
Kenji looks at me, eyes wide, eyebrows up. “I am not Adam, okay? You can’t bullshit me with your innocent act. You tell me this guy can touch you, and that he’s into you, and you’re clearly into him, and you spent the night in his bed last night, and then I walk in on the two of you in a freaking closet—no wait, I’m sorry, not a closet—a child’s bedroom—and you’re telling me there has been zero touching?” He stares at me. “Is that what you’re telling me?”
“No,” I whisper, face on fire.
“You’re just growing up so quickly. You’re getting all excited about being able to touch shit for the first time, and I just want to be sure you are observing sanitary regulations—”
“Stop being so disgusting.”
“Hey—I’m just looking out for y—”
“Kenji?”
“Yeah?”
I take a deep breath. Try to count the stars. “What am I going to do?”
“About what?”
I hesitate. “About everything.”
Kenji makes a strange sound. “Shit if I know.”
“I don’t want to do this without you,” I whisper.
He leans back. “Who said you’re going to do anything without me?”
My heart skips a few beats. I stare at him.
“What?” he asks. Raises his eyebrows. “You’re surprised?”
“You’ll fight with me?” I ask him, hardly breathing. “Fight back with me? Even if it’s with Warner?”
Kenji smiles. Looks up at the sky. “Hell yeah,” he says.
“Really?”
“I’m here for you, kid. That’s what friends are for.”