He rests his elbows on his raised knees, picking at his bruised knuckle. “It’s not that simple.”
“Don’t I fucking know it.” Sensing an ‘in’, I carefully choose my words. “When I got here, Vandy was lonely and isolated, and I get how this all looks. But I was all of those things, too.” I make sure he’s looking me in the eye when I promise, “I never took advantage of her. In fact, she’s the one who kissed me first. I’ve let her take the lead for every step of this. That stupid fucking destructive protectiveness you feel toward her? You think I don’t feel that way, too? Because I do. You have to know that, Em.”
“You knew it was wrong,” he says, voice rough. “That’s why you kept it a secret. You knew, Reyn.”
“It doesn’t feel wrong.” My head thumps against the car. “I just knew you’d never listen and—I’m not special here, Em. You would have kicked anyone’s ass. Don’t pretend I’m wrong. No one could ever be good enough.”
He takes in a long, bloody sniff, and doesn’t argue.
“But no one would treat her as good as me, Em. No one.”
After a long pause, he mutters, “Yeah,” and looks away, eyes tight. “I know.”
“Then why,” and I hate the frustrated pleading in my voice, “why can’t you trust me with this?”
He’s quiet for a long beat. So long that I begin to wonder if he’s even heard me. “Sky’s about to open up,” he finally says, slowly and awkwardly pushing himself to his feet. “I need a hot shower, an ice pack, and a blunt.”
My shoulders fall in defeat. “Right.”
He sways on his feet before finding his balance, peering down his nose at me. “If you find a way to make this shit with Syd right,” he scoops up his jacket from the ground, “then maybe we’ll see.”
I blink owlishly up at him. “We’ll see?”
He flings out his arms. “It’s not a formal blessing or anything, I’m just saying if you manage to unfuck the mess her head is probably in right now, then I’ll be a lot more fucking inclined.”
I thrust out my hand, and after a long, silent stare, he grips it and shakes.
Ten minutes later, I’m still sitting there on the pavement, thinking over this issue of unfucking the situation. I’m not stupid. He probably thinks there isn’t a chance. That’s probably why he was laughing so hard before, because in the end, he didn’t even need to come between us. But he has to be wrong.
He has to be.
The parking lot is mostly empty, save for the car at my back. At some point, the rumble in the distance descends into a spattering of fat, wet sprinkles, but I’m not ready to move yet. I’m guessing most of the people went off to after-parties, which is confirmed when some of them begin returning to the parking lot, collecting their cars, one by one.
That’s how I discover who the car I’m currently propped against belongs to.
“Um,” comes a haughty voice. “Excuse me. You’re on my car!” I peer up at the girl standing before me, car keys dangling from one hand, her phone clenched in the other. Her eyes widen when she realizes who I am, shoes clicking against the pavement when she takes a wide step back.
I grin. “Fiona.”
I don’t even bother going home.
The first thing I do is gather up my phone and kit, and cross the driveway to her house. It’s raining like a fucking monsoon all of a sudden, little rivers of runoff sluicing down the drive. Emory’s truck isn’t here and the downstairs windows are all dark. It’s not easy pulling myself up onto the roof. There isn’t a gutter here, and the water running off the roof slides right down my neck. My muscles are sore and already exhausted from my scrap with Em, and that doesn’t help matters, either. The knowledge that he looked even worse than me is a meager consolation.
When I finally manage to heave myself up onto the overhang, soaked to the bone and slumped in fatigue, I sneak to her window. The curtains are closed, but that’s no surprise. I grab the bottom of the window and tug, but it doesn’t give. Locked. Also not a surprise.
I mutter a low curse and pull out my kit, having anticipated this. Windows suck. I have a crude jimmy stuffed into my roll, so I pull it out and get to work. It takes even longer than the door to the tech room had. The only light I have to work with is the occasional flash of lightning behind the clouds. By the fifth time my swollen knuckles bang against the frame, I’m beginning to think it’d be a less hassle to just get in through a door. I’m soaked through and it’s not exactly warm out here, as it is.
I’m just about to give up altogether when the lock finally gives. “Fucking finally.”
The window opens without resistance.
I carefully step through the curtains, but it doesn’t matter. I’m soaking her floor, either way I shake it. The light inside is dim and soft, and when the window shuts behind me, it’s quiet. Warm. A stark contrast to what’s happening outside.
Vandy’s on the bed, curled on her side.
I take a moment to gather my thoughts, because I have this whole, like, plan. If I play this right, I can exonerate myself to Vandy and get Emory’s blessing, all in one fell swoop.
“V?” I softly call, not wanting to scare her. The last thing I need is for her to scream. She doesn’t move, so I kick off my shoes, shuck off my jacket, and shuffle closer. When I’m standing over the bed, I touch her shoulder and shake gently. “Vandy, hey.”