I mean, he’s from New York and he does have a really great apartment in the city, in one of those really posh areas, Chelsea to be exact. But he hardly lives there because he travels a lot. For work.
He’s in a band.
A very up-and-coming band that’s been gathering a lot of fame in the past few months. In fact, I heard their song on the radio just the other day. They’re called Dopamine and he’s the lead singer.
Tristan Archer.
So yeah. Renn has inadvertently fallen in love with a rock star — none of us knew that he was one though, when we were at Heartstone together — who’s well on his way to becoming super famous. And every time he passes by the city, Renn sees him.
Or rather, he comes over to see Renn.
I’m not sure what goes on between them because Renn never tells us. But I can tell that she’s seen him when she comes home, all subdued and sad. When she hardly even looks at me, let alone talks. And when she watches cooking shows all night long, trying to torture herself with her old eating habits; Renn suffers from anorexia and has been in and out of psych wards all her life.
I put my hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. We won’t.”
Willow leans forward. “Yeah, I wasn’t thinking.”
“And if you think it’s a bad idea, I won’t introduce her to Brian,” Violet amends. “I mean, it’s no guarantee that he’ll ever move to Colorado, and she doesn’t need the heartache. He doesn’t either.”
Renn’s face crumples slightly and her shoulders sag. “I’m an idiot.” She grabs Violet’s hand. “You don’t have to do that. I’m just… as I said, I’m an idiot.” Then she turns to us, me and Willow. “You guys don’t need to be so nice to me. I can handle myself. Besides there’s nothing to handle really. I’m sorry I lost my shit there.”
“You’re allowed to lose your shit in front of us,” Willow says. “That’s what friends are for. But I really think you should talk about —”
“No,” Renn says decisively. “There’s no need to talk.”
We all look at each other before I go ahead and change the subject, taking attention away from Renn and bringing it onto me; I know about keeping secrets and not wanting to talk about certain things. “I’m not going.”
My repeated stance about not going effectively changes the mood, and now my friends are off the topic of Renn and Tristan.
“What?” Willow goes.
Violet says, in the same tone as Willow, “Are you serious? You have to go.”
Renn gives me a grateful look for a second, totally on to me, before frowning. “Yeah, you have to. That guy’s got a thing for you. And no roommate of mine will turn down a date with a hot guy.”
I give her look. “How do you know he’s hot?”
“Because when you told us about your plan to talk to him, you were blushing the whole time. In fact, you’re blushing right now.”
My hand flies up to my cheek. “I’m not.”
“Um, yes,” Renn goes and Willow and Violet nod, agreeing with her. “Which also means that not only do I know that he’s got a thing for you, I also know that you’ve got a thing for him.” She pauses, then, “Which wasn’t the case with Cooper. So I guess you were right. This isn’t a Cooper situation at all.” She raises her eyebrows. “This is an Atlas and Penny situation.”
Willow snickers. “Atlas and Penny’s love situation.”
“No, wait,” Violet jumps in, grinning. “Atlas and Penny’s chemistry situation.”
All three of my friends — idiot friends — burst out laughing and over the din, I correct them. “It’s not even the right subject, okay? It’s biochemistry. And I’m not going.”
Chapter Three
I’m going.
Or rather, I’m here.
At Valentino’s.
When twenty-four hours ago, I had no desire to go.
Well, that’s not true.
I did have the desire, I guess.
I tossed and turned all night, thinking about it, hoping and wishing even though I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t.
That my fragile brain can’t handle being tangled up in false hope.
Not to mention, I have other goals. Other things that I need to focus on.
But God.
God.
I so want to focus on him. I so, so want to just let go and not worry about my grades all the time. I just want to… live. Enjoy my courses and learn and have fun.
I’ve never had fun. I’ve never allowed myself to have fun.
And I thought, in the early hours of dawn as I lay in my bed, that this could be it.
This maybe-date.
And besides, I’m no match for my friends. Especially when all three of them gang up on me.
Then, after all that, this morning, Dr. Blackwood came over to pick Willow up after our little sleepover together. Not only was he early — much earlier than the time they’d decided Willow would head back — he also wasn’t supposed to be there. He was supposed to send his car to pick Willow up.