“Thanks.”
I went into the bathroom and peeled off the dress, letting the ring of fabric slump gracelessly to the floor around my feet. Obviously my bra and underwear were soaked, too, and I silently debated over how to handle that, meanwhile admiring that this bathroom was fully as big as my bedroom.
I resolved to wring out my bra and underwear in the sink and then put them back on, hoping they wouldn’t make damp spots through Ezra’s clothes. I slipped the T-shirt over my head and pulled on the standard TS warm-up pants, finishing off with a Cavaliers sweatshirt.
The whole house was silent. That is, until I heard footsteps pounding up the stairs, and a small cry.
“There you are!”
Ninety-eight percent of me said I should stay put. But the other stupid, persistent 2 percent forced my hand to the doorknob and cracked the door a bit so I could stare through.
Lindsay had her arms around Ezra. Why did she have to hug people so much? They were positioned so that I could see her face in the crook of his neck. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and she didn’t seem to mind that his hair was still wet as she pressed up against him. Ezra had changed into a getup similar to the one he had lent me—TS sweats and a T-shirt—but Lindsay probably wouldn’t even have cared if he was still sporting pool-water formal wear.
“Are you okay? I just heard what happened.”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Ezra’s voice was soft. “Thanks.”
“Where’s Devon? Is she all right?”
“I think so.”
Why was she standing so close? Why hadn’t he let go? I wished I could see his face, but at the same time, I wanted to slam the door shut and never come out again. I could live in this bathroom. It had almost everything I needed. There was even a television hanging over the bathtub.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from them, and I couldn’t tamp down the dread that welled up inside me at the sight of Lindsay’s hand on Ezra’s face. For a moment I had no idea why I felt that way, but then all at once the truth rang clear: I wanted it to be my hand. I wanted the license to stand close to him like that, to smooth his hair back from his face.
And suddenly it all made terrible sense. I couldn’t account for Ezra, but Lindsay’s feelings were crystallizing before my eyes. She had asked me to hint to Cas about Homecoming. But she had never said Cas’s name outright.… Only that she knew we hung out. And she wanted to gauge his interest, but what was there to gauge of Cas? He was clearly into her. Ezra’s feelings, however, you needed a fucking Rosetta stone to decipher.
The look she had given me when we were at the mall shopping for dresses, when Maria asked about Ezra and me.… Her cuddling up to him in the van on the Reeding trip …
But she was into Cas, wasn’t she? Was I a terrible judge of feelings? Or was I only seeing more than what was there between them because I was jealous of her? Because I wanted Cas to trail after me like that?
And all of a sudden my own feelings came into stark contrast as well. The idea of Cas and Lindsay as a couple was annoying, but it could be borne. The idea of Lindsay and Ezra, however …
I let the door fall shut.
I don’t know how long I stood there, but after a while a knock on the door jerked me out of my thoughts.
“Are you okay, Dev?”
It was Foster. My voice stuck in my throat the first time I tried to speak. I cleared it and tried again. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” I balled up my dress and tucked it under my arm.