Chapter 8
8
TYLER
Sipping my flat white, I watch Echo across the coffee shop. I arrived at Full of Beans early for our group project meeting and positioned myself strategically just inside the door, where I can see her, but she’s unlikely to see me.
Students buzz around the brightly lit interior, making small talk and tapping on their laptops at the coffee bar, while seated in clusters around the tables. There’s too much chatter for the environment to be great for studying, but several people have earbuds in, so I guess they’ve found ways around it.
Echo is sitting by herself at a rectangular wooden table. Her laptop is open in front of her and she’s reading something on the screen, scrolling down every now and then. Her eyebrows pinch together, a faint groove forming between them, and she pauses to scribble on the notepad to the right of her keyboard.
I tip my coffee cup up, draining the rest of the flat white. The coffee is creamy and rich, just how I like it, but it pales in comparison to Echo.
Everything does.
Sometimes I wish I’d realized that before shit went down. I’ve wondered a hundred times how I could have done things differently. But at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. I made choices, and now I have to live with reality.
In this case, my reality is that Echo has been showing up for class a few minutes late to avoid me, and racing for the exit as soon as class ends. I could follow her back to her dorm or arrange to intercept her, but I’ve been trying to respect her wishes as much as possible without abandoning my plan.
I’ve given her a little space, but I won’t give her too much.
As I continue to observe her, I notice that I’m not the only one doing so. At a table two over from hers, a pair of guys in jeans and death metal T-shirts are surreptitiously checking her out. The way they’re leaning close to each other to talk, flicking their gazes to her every few seconds, makes me think they’re discussing her.
I shift on my seat and tug my ball cap lower, angling my head to shield my face. The stockier of the two guys stands and makes his way over to her. When he’s hovering beside her table, Echo glances up at him and smiles.
She smiles .
My jaw tightens. This asshole gets to bask in the warmth of her smile when it’s all I can do to persuade her not to flee from me every time I get near her.
I understand why, but it grates.
Echo’s lips aren’t moving, so I assume the guy is doing the talking. His back is to me so I can’t see his expression. After a moment, she replies to him. He swaggers away from her, toward the line at the counter. I wonder if she told him her coffee order.
Oh, hell no.
I wait until Echo refocuses on her laptop before leaving my post by the door and joining the line. Luckily, no one else has joined, so I’m immediately behind the asshole whose been trying to flirt with my girl. I tap him on the shoulder.
He swivels around. “What?”
“Are you buying a coffee for the girl over there?” I ask softly. “Glasses, brunette.”
“Yeah.” He grins. “She’s cute, right?”
“She’s mine,” I growl. “If you so much as lay a finger on her, I’ll break it.”
His eyes widen. “Whoa. What the fuck?”
I inch closer to him. “I’m completely serious. Leave now and don’t ever talk to her again. Don’t even fucking look at her.”
He scowls. “You’re crazy.”
I incline my head in acknowledgement. “Probably. But I’m not joking around.”
He sizes me up and seems to realize that I’m bigger and meaner because he steps out of the line and defensively holds up his hands .
“I’m going. But you need to get a grip, man.”
Yeah, I do. I’m going to get myself arrested before I win her back at this rate, but I can’t bring myself to regret my actions as my competition scurries out the side door. Echo doesn’t even look up. She hasn’t realized he’s gone.
I stay in the line, regretting the fact I didn’t ask him what sort of coffee she wanted before sending him packing. We never did anything in public, so all I know about her coffee preferences is that she used to like adding a shot of chocolate to her drink when we used my family’s coffee maker.
When I reach the front of the line, I order a skinny mocha. Then, tugging my cap low again, I shuffle around to wait for the drink, doing my best to stay out of her line of sight. I’m more exposed to her here, and it won’t be long before she realizes her admirer has vanished.
But then something happens that I could never have prepared for. The girl who was in front of Coffee Guy in the line receives her cream-topped drink and sidles over to Echo. From here, I can hear every word she says, and it makes me wish I could disappear in a puff of smoke.
“It was so hot how your boyfriend chased off that other guy,” she tells Echo.
Echo looks around, obviously confused. Her gaze sweeps past the counter and, failing to land on her admirer, returns to the girl who’s approached her.
“My boyfriend?” she asks.
“Yeah.” The girl cocks her hip. “He was all, ‘Grr, she’s mine, back off.’ Very alpha male, and hot A.F.”
Echo scans the counter again, and this time her gaze snags on me. I look away, hoping she didn’t see my face properly, but no such luck. In two seconds, she’s on her feet and stomping toward me. The girl leaps out of her way, startled.
“You.” She jabs her finger at me but doesn’t make contact. “What right do you think you have to do that?”
I shrink against the counter. She might be nearly a foot shorter than me, but that doesn’t make her anger any less terrifying because she’s literally one of the only things in the world I give a damn about.
“I can do what I like,” I say, but it comes out sounding like a question.
Her eyes form hazel slits. “What part of ‘leave me alone’ do you not get?”
“I, uh, can’t do that,” I respond sheepishly.
“Why not?” If looks could kill, I’d be six feet under.
“Because we have our group meeting in—” I check my watch. “Five minutes.”
Her nostrils flare and she grumbles, but must realize she’s not going to make any progress on that front because she changes tack.
“That class is the only reason we have to talk to each other,” she says. “I don’t want to hear about you interfering with my life again. No gifts, no chasing people away, and—”
“Skinny mocha?” the barista says behind me.
Cringing, I turn and take the drink from her, then pass it to Echo. “Sorry, I’d already ordered it.”
She glares at me, and then the coffee. She snatches it from my grasp. “This doesn’t mean anything.”
I nod agreeably. “I’m sorry for upsetting you. I just…” I know I’m about to make a fool of myself, but she deserves the truth, even when it’s uncomfortable for me. “I can’t stand to see you with anyone else, and I hope you’ll agree to hear me out eventually. Trust me, you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”
Confessing the truth wouldn’t change the past, but it could alter our future, if only she’d stop being stubborn for long enough to find out.
“I wanted to talk things out years ago.” Her tone is steely. “But instead, you hurt me badly.”
Everything inside me aches, right down to my soul. I was an idiot. A stupid, impulsive kid who’d been backed into a corner. I’d paid the price, but Echo had too. In many ways, the price she paid was steeper.
“You weren’t polite enough to grant me the privilege of not seeing you with someone else, so why would I do that for you?” she asks.
ECHO
My chest feels like it’s been scraped open. My heart is a raw, bleeding mess as I stare at Tyler. Even years later, the memory of seeing him with Whitney festers like an unclean scab.
“I—”
Before he can finish the sentence, Jin rolls up, a friendly smile in place.
“You beat me here,” he says, coming to a stop in front of us. “Do we have a table?”
I nod and jerk my thumb toward the table I claimed earlier. “Over there.”
Jin’s forehead creases. He glances from me to Tyler and back again. “What’s with all the tension?”
I silently will Tyler not to overshare. So far, he seems not to have any compunction about letting everyone know what he wants from me. It’s so different from the way we used to hide our relationship with polite smiles and feigned indifference that I don’t know how to react.
Tyler’s eyes, which have always reminded me of ice—so pale and cool—search mine. “We were having a heated discussion about the ethics of operant conditioning on an unknowing subject,” he says.
Even as relief flows through me, I gape at him, stunned by the words that came out of his mouth. He must have been paying better attention in class than I’d thought.
“Oh.” Jin seems to accept this at face value. “Personally, I don’t think it’s ethical, but there can be circumstances in which it might be the best approach regardless of its questionable ethical standing.”
“Agreed,” Tyler says quickly, waiting until Jin is facing away before he mouths, “This isn’t over.”
I ignore him, hating the little flash of excitement in my gut. I shouldn’t want him to fight for me. There’s nothing to fight for . We were broken a long time ago. Yet part of me can’t help being drawn to him, even if I can’t afford to indulge that secret desire.
“There’s Elle.” Jin waves to the final member of our group, who’s appeared in the doorway.
Elle’s gaze skims over Jin and she gives a half-hearted wave. She barely acknowledges my presence and aims the full wattage of her porcelain-pink smile at Tyler, who shifts from one foot to the other uncomfortably.
I sip my mocha, enjoying the chocolatey flavor, even if the sweetness of the caramel syrup I usually add is absent. Considering Tyler and I only ever drank coffee from his parent’s coffee maker, he made a solid effort of guessing what I might want.
“I’m looking forward to seeing your first game,” Elle says, obviously hoping to entice Tyler into conversation.
He just grunts.
It’s ridiculous. I can’t make the guy stop talking and leave me alone, no matter how much I want to, and meanwhile, she can’t convince him to string two words together. Honestly, if I weren’t determined to hate him, it would be flattering.
“Shall we sit down?” Jin suggests.
I pass him my coffee. “Can you bring this over for me? I need to use the ladies’ room.”
“No problem.” He flashes me a grin and saunters to the table.
Elle waits, determined to walk over with Tyler. After giving me a pained look, he obliges. I release a shuddering breath and haul air into my lungs.
Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Everything is going to be all right.
“Hey, um.”
A light touch lingers on my forearm. When I turn, the girl I spoke to earlier is standing beside me.
“So, I’m sorry. I obviously got it wrong before,” she says. “I heard a little of what you said to him, and I get the feeling he’s not your boyfriend.”
I cross my arms and her hand falls to her side. “No. He’s not.”
She comes closer, moving into my personal space. “Do you need any help with him? It kinda sounded like he’s causing you problems.”
My eyes fly up to hers, caught off guard. Her irises are so dark they’re nearly black, but sincerity glitters from their depths. I swallow, taking a moment to compose myself. I consider her offer for all of one second and then dismiss it. I don’t want to rehash our whole sorry story with a stranger. Even my friends don’t know what happened.
“Thanks, but I’ll be fine.”
She purses her lips. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” I force myself to smile. “Thank you for the offer though. It’s very sweet of you.”
“Anytime.” She hesitantly backs away, visibly torn as to whether to accept me at my word.
I go to the bathroom, where I splash cold water on my face and recite a pep talk to myself in the mirror. I’ve done this dozens of times before. When I’m overwhelmed, sometimes, all I need is to see my own face tell me I can achieve anything—whether it’s actually true or not.
It’s going to be difficult to maintain a clear head with Tyler around, simultaneously tempting me and terrifying me, but if I want a good score on this group project, then I’ll have to make it work.
I close the toilet lid, sit on it, and bury my face in my hands. I growl my frustration, but the sound is muffled by my palms.
I wish I knew what Tyler’s end game is. He says he wants me back, and honestly, the longer I’m around him, the more I wonder if, at least on some level, that isn’t true. After all, surely, he wouldn’t have bothered to chase away that guy who wanted to buy me a coffee if he wasn’t jealous.
The trouble is, he’s three years too late.
But isn’t it sexy that he wants to stake his territory?
“Shut up,” I mutter to the traitorous voice in the back of my mind, even though it’s right, in a way. Back in high school, I longed for Tyler to announce to everyone that we were together, but he never did.
“Now it’s too little, too late.”
I stand, wash my hands, dry my face, and return to the table, where Tyler has somehow maneuvered the seating arrangement so he’s beside the seat I left my laptop at. Elle and Jin are opposite. Jin’s eyes twinkle mischievously, but Elle doesn’t look the slightest bit amused.
I sit and open a new document.
“Our assigned topic is the use of operant conditioning in elementary schools,” I say. “We need to address methods, pros, cons, and ethics. Who wants what?”
“Why don’t you take ethics?” Jin suggests. “Since you and Tyler have such strong feelings on the subject.”
There isn’t much I can do to argue, and honestly, I don’t have a preference, so I nod. “Okay, unless anyone objects?”
“I’ll take the cons,” Tyler says unexpectedly.
“You will?” Elle sounds surprised he’s doing more than sitting back and riding the wave. I’m not though. Tyler is smart and hardworking…when he wants to be.
“Yeah.”
“Then I’ll do pros.” She smirks. “Perhaps we can bounce ideas off each other.”
Jin rests his elbow on the table. “Sounds like I’ve got the methods. Should we go around and each say what our vision is for the project?”
Tyler rolls his eyes, but we agree.
Twenty minutes later, our roles have been fully assigned and we’re in a good position to get started. I’ve logged into the library’s online search function to begin sourcing research papers we can use as references. Both Jin and Elle have also got their laptops out. Tyler is using his phone.
He’s also touching me at every opportunity.
Any time he leans forward, his body brushes mine, sending sparks skittering along my nerves. When he stretches, his knee nudges mine, and heat races to my core. He leans closer to murmur something about positive reinforcement and his breath stirs the fine hairs near my ear, making me shiver.
I want to scream. But the worst part is, while I know it’s all intentional, none of it is blatant enough for me to call him out. Elle must have noticed because she keeps sending me death glares, but Jin seems completely oblivious.
“What’s with the stars?” Jin asks.
I frown, confused, and he gestures toward my notepad. Horrified, I realize I’ve been doodling shooting stars in the margin. I stop immediately and keep my head low, refusing to acknowledge Tyler even though I can feel him burning a hole through me with his stare.
“It’s nothing,” I mumble.
At least I’m not wearing the necklace. I haven’t been able to bring myself to get rid of it yet. Not when so many complicated emotions are entangled in everything it represents. But I won’t wear it, especially not where he might see.
Another half-hour later, we decide we’ve done enough for one day. I pack my laptop into my backpack, along with my notepad, sling it over my shoulder and hurry out the nearest exit, surprised when Tyler doesn’t immediately follow me.
I’m halfway back to the dorm when I slip one of my cold hands into my pocket and stiffen as my fingers brush the corner of a folded piece of paper. Slowly, I draw it out.
The paper has a ragged edge from where Jin ripped it from his notebook to give to Tyler, who hadn’t brought anything to take notes on. It would seem he didn’t use the paper for our assignment.
Echo,
I haven’t given up on you. I won’t ever give up on you.
I’m letting you have some time to process, but we will talk about the past. We need to have that conversation. Both of us. So we can put it behind ourselves and move on.
We need closure.
~ Tyler XO