Chapter 24 Sawyer
Chapter twenty-four
Sawyer
Ignaw on the end of my pen, not giving a shit if I crack a tooth or chomp through it. I should care. The Sharpie S-Gel is my favorite. But it could also very well be toxic.
Story of my life.
Although if I get ink poisoning, then I won’t have to show up to class tomorrow.
With a sigh, I sit back, squinting against the orange glow of the setting sun as it streams in through the library windows.
The seventh floor is my favorite for studying. It’s typically pretty quiet, without students hanging around and socializing like on the lower floors, and there are no group study rooms, so fewer people come and go throughout the day.
Though I typically enjoy my Sunday ritual of catching up on schoolwork and getting myself set up for the week, it doesn’t feel like self-care today.
Today, I feel like I’m a fish in a bowl that’s far too small.
Tytus is here, and despite not declaring his intentions, I know he’s watching my every move.
My nerves are on edge, and I’m stressed to the max about the looming deadline tomorrow.
I have no freaking clue what I’m going to say to Mercer. Or Noah.
Noah has texted me every day since I was out at the orchard. I’ve replied, though my messages are woefully short and mostly full of excuses. I picked up a shift on Friday before the game, then picked up a double shift on Saturday. When I told Noah, he seemed to understand.
Mercer is the one I’ve basically ghosted at this point.
He’s contacted me countless times and in countless ways.
But I’ve run out of reasonable excuses to give him, so I’ve just stopped responding.
The last email he sent included a laundry list of topics for us to discuss during our regular update tomorrow. Nothing about the email was out of the ordinary. Except the PS at the end.
Those two words are branded into my mind: Time’s up.
I told him I needed a week.
I was wrong.
If anything, Ty has only wrapped me up tighter in this complicated, twisted, codependent situation over the last six days.
At the beginning of the week, I was sure I could resist. I was set on letting him cool off, certain life would return to normal after a few days.
Instead, I’ve woken up wrapped around him for the last three mornings, and I’ve lost count of the number of times he’s made me come.
My mind is a mess of conflicting feelings and raging anxiety. Nothing is going according to plan, but I’m too far gone to just pump the brakes with Ty and pretend like nothing happened.
My phone vibrates on the table beside me, startling me out of my reverie.
I pick it up, ignoring Mercer’s last text, and tap on the message Atty just sent.
Atty: Marco
Grinning, I twist one way, then the other, searching for my twin. As kids, we’d call out “Marco!” when looking for each other in a store or at the library. I think my mom started it, actually.
When I don’t spot him, I type out a response.
Me: Polo
A minute later, he rounds a corner and wanders my way.
“Hey.” My brother smiles, his dimples popping as he props himself up against the side of the table. “I didn’t want to disturb you if you were trying to focus.”
“All good.” I return his smile and close my notebook. “I was just finishing up. Where are you coming from?”
“Study group for intro to peace comm.”
I snicker. “You’re such a hippie.”
He shrugs. “I like to think Mom would be proud.”
I sigh. She would be.
Our mom worked at McMaster University just like our dad.
She was a tenured professor in the department of sociology, and she considered herself a lifelong learner.
She took classes semester after semester because she enjoyed them.
I inherited my dad’s love for a healthy debate, but my love of learning came from my mom.
When we were fourteen, she discovered that she had enough credits to obtain a new degree. Wholly by accident. She walked in that year’s commencement for the hell of it. I still have her bachelor’s of peace communication diploma in a storage unit somewhere.
“Did you eat yet?” my brother asks. “We could grab dinner?”
I bite on my lower lip and eye Tytus across the space. “I could eat, but it depends on what Ty wants to do.”
He’s set up in one of the study cubbies with headphones on. He’s unaware of my brother’s presence, though I don’t doubt that if I even stood, he’d be on full alert.
Atty shifts, positioning his body between me and the table. I have to crane my neck to keep from getting an eyeful of his crotch—thanks, bro—but when I try to scoot my chair, he gives me a quick, almost imperceptible shake of his head.
“I’m worried about him,” he tells me in a hushed whisper.
Him, meaning Tytus.
“He hasn’t come back to our room the last couple nights. On the surface, he seems fine. He’s playing great, but he’s slipping more often. My gut tells me something else is going on.”
Head tilted, I survey Ty. He’s still got his back to us, shoulders forward, head down over his textbook.
“I haven’t noticed anything,” I lie.
Atty peers over his shoulder, then gives me a tight smile. “I feel weird saying this to you, but I’m wondering if it could be a girl. Or a guy? I don’t know. But he’s acting so different… and he has to be sleeping somewhere. Maybe he’s seeing someone?”
He is seeing someone.
Me. Every inch of me. Every night.
But I can’t exactly say that to my twin brother.
“I’ll keep an eye out,” I say, even as my stomach knots with guilt. “Let you know if I notice anything out of the ordinary.”
“Thanks.” He sags against the table once more, his posture easing. “How are you doing? Now that the season’s started, I feel like we barely talk.”
More like now that his best friend is operating under the delusion that I’m his wife and is keeping tabs on my every move and sleeping in my bed half the week, we haven’t had a chance to connect.
Same diff, right?
It’s my turn to sigh. To sigh and fake a smile and lie.
“I’m great,” I say, forcing my tone to brighten. “Let’s grab Ty and head to dinner. We can catch up then.”