When we got to the main road, Chris placed a hand on my shoulder. My breath hitched; once more, it reminded me of Brad. “Do you mind if I talk to you for a moment?”
My first instinct was to say that I was busy—being alone with a straight boy wasn’t a situation I wanted to be in—but there were other kids wandering aimlessly and there was a look on Chris’s face that struck me as incredibly hopeful. Besides, I highly doubted he would try anything. Not in the wake of what we’d just come from.
“Sure,” I relented. I looked to Ethan and Oliver. “I’ll catch up with you later?”
“Sure thing,” Oliver said. He and Ethan hugged me good-bye, then headed back to their dorm. Ethan gave me a gratuitously obvious look over his shoulder as he walked away. I couldn’t tell if it was him seeing if I needed help or him just being smug that his plan was working.
For a moment, Chris and I stood there awkwardly. I looked everywhere but at him; I could tell from the tingle in my gut that he was trying very hard to make eye contact.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” I replied. My eyes flicked toward him and yes, he looked pained.
“I mean the way you act around me. It’s like I’ve already offended you. I mean, I know you don’t owe me anything, but I just thought . . .”
I shook my head.
“You know that it’s not you, it’s me bullshit?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Exactly that. But it’s not bullshit. I’m not dating anyone, Chris.”
“I never said anything about dating,” he replied. He actually sounded offended. “I just wanted to get to know you.” He sighed and looked at his feet, scuffed the snow with a boot. “You caught my attention the first day of class, but I finally realized that if I didn’t act, I’d go the entire school year without actually talking to you. And after Mandy . . . well, life’s short. I don’t want to miss my chance.”
I didn’t know if it was touching or disrespectful to mention Mandy in this context, and so soon, but his words sent my head spinning.
“You really don’t want to get to know me,” I said. I looked away, toward where Ethan and Oliver were throwing snowballs at each other. Some small part of me flared with want. Didn’t I crave that? That easy sort of love? It’s not meant for you, Brad whispered. You’re tainted, broken—and you’ll pass that on to anyone who tries to get close.
“That’s the thing, though,” he said, cutting through the words I couldn’t tell were Brad’s or mine. “I do want to get to know you. You’re different. Even here, you stand out.” I knew it was meant to be a compliment, but hearing him say it just sent my walls higher. Different. You’ll always be different. And that’s why no one can love you. He held out a hand. “Can we at least make a truce? Let me try to be your friend. I promise not to make it into anything you don’t want it to be.”
I looked at him, from his eyes to his fingerless-gloved hand. This was stupid. There were only a few months left in the school year and soon we’d be going to different colleges and none of this would matter. But he was right. I couldn’t deny there was something that pulled me toward him, a gravity I didn’t really want to escape. After today, it was difficult to justify pushing anyone away.
I closed my eyes and took his hand, trying to block out the images shuffling through my mind like Tarot cards—Brad’s face as he slammed me against the wall, the report in the paper that had nothing to do with . . . Shut up!
Our gloved hands met. Stupid to think, but even through the fabric I swore I felt a spark. The moment his hand touched mine, the images in my head fluttered to the ground. It felt like taking a breath after nearly drowning.
“Okay then,” he said. “Friends.”
“Potential friends,” I said. I grinned to let him know I was joking. Like I said, wit was what kept me from sinking. “Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.”
Then, because I realized our hands were still clasped and that was kind of strange, I let go and slipped my hands in my pockets.
“Well,” I said, once more trying to be all business and squash the butterflies raging for control, “I should probably go call home. Mom’s going to want to know what’s happening.”
“Likewise. I need to get the okay to leave campus with you guys,” he said. “Also work.”
“Always work. See you soon.”
“Yeah.”
As I walked toward my room, I kept replaying his words in my head: Even here, you stand out. It was so, so close to what Brad said, the first day he talked to me. Chris is different, I tried to convince myself.
Overhead, perched on the power lines, a crow squawked.
“I won’t let it happen again,” I muttered, and hurried inside.
? ? ?
“Are you okay?”
Those were the first words from my mother’s lips. The phone barely even rang before she picked up. Her intuition was good like that. I just wished I’d paid attention to it sooner.