“They do,” she replies, deadly serious. “Just like my dream told me you were going to meet someone new when you went off to school. You should know by now that my predictions are always right.” She closes my hand. “Go pack your stuff and I’ll see if I can get you on a flight.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I wrap my arms around her. “And I mean for everything. For not kicking me out of the house. For supporting me through everything. For making me feel okay about being who I am.”
“You’re welcome, honey.” She kisses me on the cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” I pull back and head to my room, eager to pack my stuff—eager to get to Seth.
***
Ten hours later, I’m walking up to Seth’s dorm building. I haven’t been able to get ahold of him, so as soon as I dropped off my bags at my apartment, I headed straight to the dorms. I try his number again, but it goes straight to voicemail.
I rush across the frosted grass. Snowflakes are lightly falling from the grey sky and sprinkle the tree branches. The scene would make a great picture, but I don’t have my camera with me. Plus, I have this dire urge to get to Seth’s room and make sure he’s okay.
When I get to the locked entrance door, I cup my hands around my eyes and peer through the glass. I spot a few people hanging out in the lounge area and knock on the door. A girl glances in my direction, gets up, and lets me in.
I brush the snow out of my hair as I step inside and head toward his room at the end of the hallway. Stopping at his door, I knock loudly since someone has the music cranked up.
Moments later, the music stops and Seth opens the door.
He takes one look at me and his jaw drops. “What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t flying home until Sunday.”
“Yeah, I left early.” I run my fingers through my damp hair. “I thought you might need some company after what happened.”
He rubs his lips together as his gaze scrolls up and down my body. “You didn’t have to do that? I know how excited your mom was to see you.”
“She was fine with me coming back,” I reassure him. “In fact, it was her idea.”
He stares at me for a second or two, then reaches for my hand and yanks me into his cluttered room. Energy drink cans litter the floor and candy wrappers cover his bed.
“Did you go on a sugar binge or something?” I turn in a circle in the small space between the two twin beds, examining his messy room.
“I didn’t feel like going out and eating alone,” he says, closing the door. “I honestly planned on locking myself in here the whole weekend and binging on sugar and vodka, but then I didn’t have any vodka, so,” he shrugs, “I took to the energy drinks.”
I notice how beaten down he’s acting and how his eyes are rimmed with red. I think he’s been crying and it rips open my heart. Before I even realize what I’m doing, I wrap him in my arms and pull him against me.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you,” I say as I hug him tightly. “I’m here now, though.”
He rests his face in the crook of my neck as he grips the bottom of my shirt. “It’s not your fault you weren’t there. And it’s not like I knew the shit was going to hit the fan. Besides, I made the choice to open my mouth and say what I did.”
“Don’t ever regret that.”
“I don’t.”
We hug for a little longer before stepping back. He wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt then blows out a breath. “So, now that you’re here, do you want to go get something to eat?" He makes a face at all the candy wrappers around the room. “I’ve eaten so much junk food, I swear to God I can literally feel my teeth rotting out of my head.”
“Whatever you want to do, the day is yours,” I tell him, zipping up my jacket.
He retrieves his coat from his unmade bed. “You might want to be careful giving me that kind of freedom. God knows where the hell we’ll end up.” He slips his arms through the sleeves, collects his wallet and keys from the dresser, and then pulls open the door. “Wait, how did you even get in here without a keycard?"
“A couple of people were downstairs and they let me in,” I explain as he locks up his room before we head down the hallway. “I tried to call you like a thousand times, but you didn’t answer.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot I turned it off.” He waves at one of the girls in the lounge before shoving open the outside door.
The snow has picked up and thick snowflakes fall from the sky, making it hard to see anything.
“Why’d you turn it off?” I ask, tucking my hands into my jacket pockets.
“Because my mother kept sending me texts.”
“Apologies, I hope.”
He lets out a hollow laugh as he kicks the tip of his boot at the snow on the ground. “Yeah, right. More like threats.”
I stop under the shelter of a tree and grab his arm, forcing him to look at me. “She’s threatening you?”
He shrugs it off. “It’s nothing I haven’t heard. I can’t ever come home again. Blah, blah, blah.” He rolls his eyes, pretending to be unaffected.
“I’m sorry, but your mother’s a bitch.”
“Oh, that she is.” He pulls the hood of his jacket over his head. “Can we talk about something else, though? I promise I’m not running away from the problem. I just need a break from it.”
“You’re okay, though, right?” I question, knowing I’d be anything but okay had I suffered everything he’s been through.
“Oddly enough, I kind of am. Between telling my mother off and confronting Braiden, I have this strange sense of closure. Like I’ve made peace with what I can’t change and I feel like I’m ready to move on.”
I give his hand a squeeze. “You know I’m here if you ever need to talk, vent, punch something, whatever.”
He chuckles, his eyes lighting up for the first time since I walked into his room. “Punch something?”
“Yeah, as a way to get it out. You’d be surprised how therapeutic it can be.”
“Thanks for the offer, but physically exerting myself doesn’t sound like much fun. I would, however, love to go dancing. I haven’t done that in a while.”
“Okay,” I respond, unsure as to whether he wants me to accompany him since he’s been so hesitant about it in the past.
“I definitely need to get something to eat first.” He pats his stomach. “I’m starving.”
I nod my head toward the parking lot. “Let’s go, then. Like I said, the day is yours.”
We hike across the snow for the car, our shoes crunching against the frostbitten grass. The snowfall is thinning, making it easier to see. When I notice a couple of guys heading up the sidewalk, I’m prepared for Seth to pull his hand out of mine, like he always does when we’re around other people, but as the guys get closer, he only grips tighter. I can feel his anxiety when his palm starts to sweat and his pulse begins hammering against my fingertips, and though his gaze remains locked on his snow-covered car, he keeps glancing at the guys out the corner of his eye.
A few of them look in our direction and openly stare, but, thankfully, no one opens their mouth and we make it to the car without any problems. The last thing Seth needs is for drama to unfold during his first attempt at putting himself out there.
“Where should we eat?” Seth’s fingers tremble as he fumbles to get the keys in the ignition.
“Hey, just breathe.” I settle my hand on his arm to steady him. “You did good.”
When his gaze meets mine, he nods unsteadily, and I can’t help myself. I lean over and kiss him and he kisses me back, almost in desperation, sliding his tongue into my mouth. He hasn’t shaved in a few days and I can feel his stubble under my hand as I rub his cheek and press him closer.
“I missed you,” I say when I pull back, a little breathless.
“I missed you, too,” he admits, backing out of the parking space.
“My mom said you should come to Florida with me for Christmas,” I tell him. “But I have to warn you, you’ll likely spend most of the visit getting your palm read, your cards read, and your dreams interpreted.”
“That sounds fun.”