“No, no, don’t do that,” he said. He leaned forward, holding his cup in both hands. “This isn’t about me.” His voice took on that soft tone, the one guys get when they’re trying to be comforting. Trouble was, he pulled it off perfectly.
I leaned back farther in the chair and angled myself to look out the window. A crow watched us from the power line out front. It flapped its wings. My walls crept up higher. Who are you protecting? I wanted to scream. Who are you trying to warn?
“I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation. I barely know you.”
“Maybe because you know you can trust me.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about.”
He sighed.
“I’m not trying to pry. I’m just trying to figure out how to keep you from hurting.”
I glanced out the window. The crow perching there ruffled its feathers.
“It’s not your place to protect me,” I said. “I’m sorry, Chris. I just can’t do this right now.”
And I was sorry. I really, really was. I hadn’t been lying in the kitchen—he was the one straight guy I’d been around who didn’t make my skin crawl. He was genuine and cute and talented and he didn’t push when he wasn’t supposed to. And all of that made it so much worse. He and Jane and Mandy and now the fucking crows; it was too much.
I just wanted a normal senior year. I wanted to graduate and go to college with my best friend and pretend the other shit didn’t exist. No occult whisperings, no murders, and no crows.
“It’s also not your place to protect me,” he said after a while. I glanced back at him. I’d forgotten I’d even said anything.
I didn’t retort though. I knew from the set of his eyes that we’d just go around in circles if I opened my mouth again. Instead, I turned back to the book in my hands and tried to lose myself in poetry.
It worked, for the most part. Chris started reading his own book and we sat there in silence. Not that I could focus on poems. My brain was spinning at a sickening pace and the entire time I was keenly aware of just how far away Chris was from me. His presence was like static, impossible to see and impossible to ignore.
Maybe he wasn’t like Brad. Maybe he never would lift a finger to try to hurt me. Maybe he wouldn’t push me to do something I didn’t want. Hell, maybe we could date and everything would be fine, just like the books and movies I once thought I could live. The fact was, it didn’t matter. I was tainted goods. And not because of what Brad had done to me.
I was damned for what I’d done to him in return.
We stayed in that little alcove for a few more hours, both of us reading poetry in silence, occasionally sharing our favorite lines. The heaviness between us dissipated as the snow outside accumulated. It wasn’t that I was falling for him or warming up to his presence; I was just too tired to keep my walls up. Chris didn’t try to force me to talk. For that, I was grateful. When I stopped freaking out about it, he was actually pretty easy to be around. Which, I suppose, was the problem in the first place.
Somehow we both missed the fact that lunch had come and gone. After a while my stomach’s rumblings were too loud to ignore any longer.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“Pretty certain my stomach is eating itself,” I said with a small grin. “Ready to brave the cold?”
“Sure thing,” he said. He pushed himself to standing and held out a hand to help me up. I took it. Something hit the window, causing both of us to jump. It sounded like a snowball, but I caught a glimpse of black feathers. I dropped his hand immediately.
I’m not falling for him, I muttered to Munin. You can lay off on the warnings.
I turned my attention back to the room, back to a moment free of ravens.
“You’re sure about this,” I said. “About tonight?”
“What about it?”
“You know exactly what.” Even though we were alone, I wasn’t about to say anything aloud about Jane or sneaking around.
“I’m sure,” he said. “She was my friend. I want to know what happened. And I think Elisa was right—there’s something the school isn’t telling us. I think we deserve to know the truth.”
The truth. Such a difficult premise. If he ever found out about me, would he think I’d lied about my past? Or would he see that my greatest truth was in trying to protect him?
“Okay then,” I said. I forced myself back into witty banter mode; it was a coping mechanism that kept me from going under. “Just remember it was your choice when the FBI takes you in for questioning.”
He laughed. “Trust me, the FBI is nothing compared to my parents.”
? ? ?
We stepped into the Dark Note and Chris ordered a round of cheese-stuffed breadsticks, two vanilla frozen yogurt shakes, and a veggie burger with fries.
“Is that all for you?” I asked as Ike rang up the total.
“Nope. We’re sharing this. I expect a total Lady and the Tramp moment when we eat one of those breadsticks.”
I couldn’t help it; all the stress of the last few days and the last few hours in particular just . . . cracked. I burst out laughing and couldn’t stop myself until I started snorting, and had to cover my mouth with my hand.