He pulled out a lighter from his jeans and lit it, positioning it center as the small glow came to life, burning against the black night.
He turned, the light of the flame flickering in his eyes as he looked over at me.
“No movies tonight then?” he asked, walking around my room.
I shook my head, not meeting his eyes.
“And I think,” he continued, moving toward me, “even if you could leave, you wouldn’t anyway.”
Taking a step, I moved away from him, both of us circling each other.
Again, I shook my head.
“Because you’re suspicious of everything good,” he told me.
I remained silent, continuing to move away as he moved in.
“And it won’t end when you go to college or leave this town, Em. Nothing will change. You still won’t have good things.”
I tried to swallow through the lump in my throat, but I couldn’t.
“Because you’ll still be you,” he said.
I breathed in and out a few times, and then the words spilled out before I could stop them. “I want to let this happen,” I told him, finally looking up and meeting his eyes. “Part of me really does, Will. You know why?”
He stared, and I barely noticed that we’d both stopped moving.
“Because as soon as it was over, I know I’d never have to hear from you again.”
I didn’t blink as I held his eyes, his beautiful greens sharpening and his spine straightening.
Yes, fucking you would be the one way to get rid of you. It was almost tempting.
But then I watched his lips tighten as his eyes glistened.
He fell silent, looking taken aback, and I faltered, watching my words work their way through his head, slicing a bloody path that I immediately regretted.
He dropped his eyes, stuck the lighter into his pocket, and let out a resolved breath. “Why are you so mean?”
But he didn’t really want an answer. Turning away, he left my bedroom and headed down the stairs, and in that moment, my insides crumbled, because I knew I’d gone too far.
I didn’t want this.
I didn’t want him to go, because I’d never hear from him again. I’d go to school tomorrow, pass him in the halls, but this time, he wouldn’t look back at me.
I’d gone too far.
Racing after him, I jogged down the stairs, leapt over the last few steps, and pushed the front door closed again just as he was opening it.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted out, gripping his T-shirt at his waist and dipping my forehead into his back. “I’m not…” My voice shook. “I’m just…not a happy person, Will. And you’re right, I never will be.”
Tears lodged in my throat, and I blinked long and hard to keep the tears away. I didn’t want to cry in front of him again.
He stood there, still, only the beat of his heart pulsing through his body.
“I’m not right for you,” I told him.
And not because he was rich and popular and I wasn’t, but because he made my life better. I looked forward to him.