November 9: A Novel

“What about the book?” I ask him. “We’re supposed to meet up three more times. Don’t you want to finish it?”


He contemplates my question for a short moment before slowly shaking his head. “No,” he says simply. “Not if it means we can’t be together.” His expression doesn’t falter.

He’s serious. He actually wants to move to New York. And I want him there more than I’ve ever wanted anything.

“You’re gonna need a jacket.”

His smile transforms his entire face. He reaches a hand up to my cheek and traces my jaw, brushing his thumb over my lips. “And they lived happily ever after.”

? ? ?

Yesterday evening when he opened the door and I saw him for the first time in a year, I could see the pain in every single aspect of him. It was like the death of his brother aged him five years.

But right now, he looks somewhat like he did the first time I saw him. Unkempt and scruffy. Adorable. Beautiful. It’s the most at peace I’ve seen him since I arrived.

I kiss him lightly on the cheek and roll off the bed without waking him. I put on my clothes and slip out of his bedroom, heading downstairs to see if there’s any cleaning I can do before I wake him up to say goodbye.

It’s almost four in the morning. The last thing I expect is to see someone in the kitchen, but Jordyn is seated at the bar.

She looks up at me as soon as I walk in. Her eyes are red and puffy, but she’s not crying. She’s got an entire box of pizza in front of her and she’s taking a huge bite out of a slice of pepperoni.

I feel bad for walking in on her. Based on my conversation with Ben, she’s wanted nothing but solitude the last couple of days. I debate walking back to Ben’s room to give her privacy. She must see my hesitation, because she scoots the box toward me.

“You hungry?” she asks.

I kind of am. I take a seat next to her and grab a slice of pizza. We sit together in silence until she finishes a second slice. She stands and takes the box of pizza to the refrigerator. She hands me a soda when she returns to the bar. “So you’re the girl Ben’s writing the book about?”

I pause the can at my lips, shocked she knows about it. No one else at the dinner table seemed to know anything about his book. I nod again and then take a drink.

She forces a smile and looks down at her hands, laced together on the bar in front of her. “He’s a great writer,” she says. “I think the book is going to be huge for him. It’s a clever idea.”

I clear my throat, hoping she doesn’t hear the shock in my voice. “Have you read any of it?”

“Bits and pieces,” she says, smiling again. “He’s really picky about which parts I’m allowed to read, but I was an English major, so sometimes he asks my opinion.”

I take another drink, just to keep myself from speaking just yet. I want to ask her about it, but I don’t want her to know that I haven’t read a single word of it yet.

“Kyle was so happy for him when he signed with his agent.” Her eyes begin to mist when she mentions Kyle’s name.

I look away from her.

An agent?

Why didn’t he tell me he signed with an agent?

“How is he?” she asks.

“Ben?”

She nods. “I haven’t really interacted with anyone yet. I know it’s selfish of me, because I’m not the only one hurting. But I just . . .”

I put my hand on top of hers and squeeze. “He’s okay. And he understands, Jordyn. Everyone does.”

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