I love that she caught on, that she knew I sent the tiger because it literally makes no damn sense, and now we are playing a “send the most random emoji” game, and I’m lying here in the dark, alone, laughing so hard that my stomach actually hurts.

I ran out, she says after about five minutes of back-and-forth.

Me too. Are you tired?

Yes, I drank too much wine.

Did you have fun? I’m surprised when I want her to say yes, that she did have a good time, even though I wasn’t a part of her night.

Yes, I did. Are you okay? I hope everything went well with your father.

It did, maybe we can talk about it when I get to Seattle? I accompany my pushy message with a heart and the picture of what looks like a skyscraper.

Maybe.

I’m sorry I was such a shitty boyfriend. You deserve better than me but I love you. I send the message before I can stop myself. It’s true and I just can’t help saying it now. I’ve made the mistake of keeping my feelings for her inside, and that’s why she’s so quick to doubt my promises now.

Too much wine in my brain for this conversatoine. Christian heard Trevor having sex in his office.

I roll my eyes at his name on my screen. Fucking Trevor. Fucking Trevor.

That’s whatf I said. I otld Kim that sain things.

Too many typos to read. Go to sleep, text me tomorrow, I send, then start a new message. Please. Please text me tomorrow.

A smile creeps across my face when she sends a picture of a cell phone, a sleepy face, and that damn tiger.

Chapter forty-nine

HARDIN

The familiar voice of Nate echoes through the narrow hallway: “Scott!”

Fuck. I knew I wouldn’t make it through this shit without seeing one of them. I came to campus to talk to my professors. I wanted to make sure my father could drop my last assignments off to them. Having friends, or parents, in high places really does help, and I’m given permission to miss the remainder of classes for this semester. I have been missing so many anyway, there won’t be much of a difference.

Nate’s blond hair is longer now, pushed up into some sort of messy spike in the front. “Hey, man, I get the feeling you were trying to avoid me just now,” he says, looking me straight in the face.

“Perceptive, aren’t you?” I shrug, no point in lying.

“I always hated your big words.” He laughs.

I could have done without seeing him today, or ever again. It’s nothing against him; I always sort of liked him more than any of my other friends, but I’m over this shit.

He takes my silence for another opening to speak. “I haven’t seen you on campus in forever. Aren’t you graduating soon?”

“Yeah. Middle of next month.”

He follows next to me at a slow pace. “Logan is, too. You’re going to walk, right?”

“Hell no.” I laugh. “Did you really just ask me that?”

Tessa’s scowl flashes in my head, and I bite down on my lip to keep a smile away. I know she wants me to walk at my graduation, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to.

Maybe I should at least consider it?

“Okay . . .” he says. Then he points to my hand. “What’s with the cast?”

I lift it a little and look at it. “Long story.” One that I’m not going to tell you.

See, Tessa, I have learned some self-control.

Even though I’m talking to you inside of my head and you’re not even here.

Okay, so maybe I’m crazy still, but I’m being nice-ish to people . . . You would be proud.

Fuck, I’ve got it so bad.

Nate shakes his head and holds the door open for me as we walk out of the administration building. “So, how are things?” he asks, always having been the most talkative of the bunch.

“Fine.”

“How’s she?”

My boots stop moving against the concrete sidewalk, and he takes a step back, holding his hands in the air in defense.

“I’m only asking as a friend. I haven’t seen either of you, and you stopped taking our calls a while ago. Zed’s the only one that talks to Tessa.”

Is he trying to piss me off? “Zed doesn’t talk to her,” I snap, annoyed that I let Nate and his mention of Zed get under my skin so easily.

Nate lifts his hand to his forehead, a nervous gesture. “I wasn’t saying it like that, but he told us about her dad and he said he was at the funeral so . . .”

“So nothing. He’s nothing to her. Move on.” This conversation is going nowhere and I’m reminded why I don’t waste my time hanging out with any of them anymore.

“All right.” If I look over at him, I know he will be rolling his eyes. But then I’m surprised when he says with a hint of emotion, “I never did anything to you, you know.” When I turn to him, sure enough his expression matches his voice.

“I’m not trying to be a dick,” I tell him, feeling a tiny bit guilty. He’s a nice guy, nicer than me and most of our friends. His friends, not mine anymore.

He looks a little past me. “Seems like it.”

“Well, I’m not. I’m just over the bullshit. You know?” I face him. “I’m over all the shit. The parties, the drinking, the smoking, the hookups—I’m just over all of it. So I’m not trying to be an asshole toward you personally, but I’m just over all that shit.”

Nate pulls a cigarette from his pocket, and the only noise between us is the click of his lighter. It feels so long ago that I would walk around campus with him and the rest of our group. It feels so long ago that talking shit about people and nursing hangovers was my morning routine. It feels so long ago that my life revolved around anything other than her.




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