Chapter 21
TWELVE YEARS AGO
DELANEY
I stare across the room at where my new roommate is staring back at me, her face flat.
We’ve been sitting like this since I got all of my things brought in and began to unpack. The dorm room is small for two people, but it could always be worse. Or that’s what I thought before this girl appeared.
In all honesty, I’m just assuming she’s my roommate. She sat on the bed confidently, like she owned it, so I figured that this was the Brooklyn whose name was written on the whiteboard on the door. If she’s not, then I probably shouldn’t move, anyway. Best not to spook her . . .
“Your name is Delaney?” she asks bluntly, the deep blue of her eyes lacking any sort of emotion.
My head snaps back in surprise. “Yes. Are you Brooklyn?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
“I don’t like people in my space. Would you like me to draw a line between our beds?”
“Uh, no, I don’t plan on touching your bed. ”
She squints at me, unimpressed. “I’ll draw a line.”
“Alright. Go for it,” I relent.
“Rules.”
Lifting my brows, I move my head forward, urging her to continue. “Rules?”
“What’s your major?”
“Education.”
“Do you have any friends?”
“I just got here.”
“So, no friends,” she mutters, nodding.
“Not yet.”
She ignores that and stands, peering down at me curiously. “Boyfriend?”
“Why do you need to know that?” I ask, starting to ramble.
I haven’t prepared an answer for that question yet. What is the correct answer to that, even? Technically, I don’t have a boyfriend anymore, but it’s only been two days since Darren left for Calgary and I came, well, here. I’m not ready to say no to that question.
“You don’t,” Brooklyn states dully, already busying herself with something in one of her boxes, her interest gone.
“What? You don’t know that. I didn’t answer the question.”
“It’s yes or no. You said something else.”
“Okay, I wasn’t aware this was a test,” I snap, growing frustrated.
“I’m merely asking so I know if we need to create a signal of some sort. A sort of sock on the doorknob scenario.”
Blinking, I stare at her. “I used to have a boyfriend. We’re taking a break. So, I guess he’s still kind of my boyfriend.”
“So, you’re single.”
“Not exactly?—”
Brooklyn stares at me over her shoulder, deadpan. “You’re single.”
“Okay, fine. I’m single!” I throw my hands up and gather my phone and sweater from the bed. “I’m going out now. ”
“Rules, Delaney. Don’t touch my stuff, and if you’re going to have people over, leave a note. My side of the room is off limits.”
“I have to go on your side to go to the bathroom.”
She huffs and looks up at the ceiling, as if she’s over having to deal with me already. “I’ll include a path when I draw on the floor.”
“I’m leaving now,” I say instead of responding to that.
Grunting, she waves me off. “Bye.”
Well then. I leave the room quickly and make it out of the building before pulling my phone out. Without thinking better of it, I send off a text.
My roommate is going to knife me in my sleep. How’s yours?
Nerves swarm when I read it back and curse. So much for space.
Darren answers instantly, putting my fear to rest. He’s been high since I got here. Pretty sure I’m being hotboxed as we speak.
Finding a spot in the courtyard, I hunker down and send him another message, a smile warming my face.
Tell me everything.
Brooklyn glares at me when she gets into the room, already reaching into her pocket for her earphones. My music isn’t loud by any means, but she hates it. That’s one of the first things I learned about her this year.
“I didn’t know you were still here,” I say in defense of myself breaking one of her thousand rules.
“Clearly. I just forgot something. Carry on.”
“Weirdly, I think I’m going to miss you this summer.”
“Weirdly?”
I laugh and tug my final pillowcase off before dropping it in my laundry basket. “Yeah. All year, we’ve avoided becoming friends, but I still got used to having you as a roommate. ”
“Who’s to say we won’t be stuck together next year too.”
“Awe, are you a bit hopeful, Brooke?”
She rolls her eyes and lifts her mattress, revealing a tiny hunting knife. I choke on a surprised inhale.
“What? It’s not like I ever stabbed you with it.”
“Yeah, lucky me.”
“I’ll see you around, Delaney. Good luck with that guy.”
I flush, nodding. “Yeah, see you.”
She disappears, leaving me alone again. Her side of the room is empty, and mine is still overflowing with stuff I’m behind on packing. I blame that on Darren. He’s kept my mind occupied these last few days as I tried not to be too upset with him bailing on going home for the summer.
Sure, I knew it was a long shot, but I just thought with how often we were talking that he’d want to see me. It was a ridiculous thought. This break was my idea, and he’s only making sure we don’t cross any more lines since we’ve jumped right over the no texting or calling one.
It’s just been hard only being able to see his words or hear his voice every few days.
I want to see him . . . touch him. My heart yearns for him, wondering why I ever thought of doing this in the first place.
This year was a complete waste. The only thing I’ve learned about myself is that I’m a total hermit and hate college parties.
Maybe things will change when I go home. A summer by myself . . . I don’t remember the last time I had one of those.
I check my phone again. No messages.
The last one I sent says it was delivered, but there’s no indication that he saw it. Grandma waves at me from the front steps, her silver hair ruffling in the August breeze. I set my phone down, abandoning any hope of Darren texting me back before I head back to school for another year.
“Drive safe, Laney! And call me when you stop for dinner.”
With the front windows down, I shout, “I will. Love you, Grandma. Don’t forget to call the pharmacy tomorrow!”
“Stop worrying about me and hit the road. You have a long trip ahead of you!”
Impossible. With the cold she had these last two months, I’ve become used to driving her to and from the hospital and making sure she was taken care of.
The version of myself that’s going back to Vancouver this year is tired and more worried than I was the first time I left town.
Other than several hours spent in the kitchen teaching myself how to cook, the entire summer was just . . . hard.
Two months flew by. One blink, and I’m back in my car, my heart heavier than the last time.
“You’re really here?” I ask, tears pricking my eyes.
Darren’s chuckle sends a shiver down my entire body. “Yeah, Elle. My cab’s pulling up right now.”
Without a second thought, I drop the call and run down the sidewalk to where I can see the yellow cab stopping along the curb. My pulse races as I run straight to him, not giving him a chance to get his bag out of the car before I’m jumping.
He catches me, his strong arms coiling around me as I cling onto him, legs curled at his hips. Burying my face into his throat, I breathe him in.
“I’m taking this as you’re happy to see me?” he rasps.
It’s been seven months since I’ve seen him. A Halloween party in Calgary wasn’t my ideal idea for spending time together, but I didn’t complain. I couldn’t when that was my only chance .
But now, he’s mine for this spring weekend, and we can do whatever we want.
“I can’t believe you’re really here.”
“I’m sorry it took me so long to come.”
“It’s okay. I have the entire weekend planned. Starting with a tour of campus.”
He nods and turns his head, bringing our mouths close.
I stare into the same brown eyes I’ve ached to see again and wait, seeing what he’s comfortable doing.
The lines are growing blurrier between us, but surely he’s not going to let them actually matter this weekend. Not after this long of being apart.
Throat pulling with a swallow, he smooths a hand down my back but doesn’t kiss me like I was hoping. “Sounds good, Elle.”
I slide off him and settle on the ground again. Smiling, I pretend I’m not disappointed and wave at the cab driver.
“Thanks for getting him here okay.”
Darren snaps into motion and pays the guy before grabbing his bag and tossing it over his shoulder. I tap my thighs and nod in the direction of my building.
“Uh, we should drop your bag off first.”
“Good point. Do I get to meet the infamous Brooklyn?”
I huff a laugh, punting the awkwardness behind us. “She’ll probably show up once or twice. When I told her you were coming, she packed a bag.”
“What are the odds that she asked to be roomed with you again this year?”
“Honestly, I think pretty high. She acts tough, but she’s got a soft spot for me.”
“Can’t say I’m surprised. You’re pretty easy to love,” he says, the words flowing easily, as if it’s still second nature for him to speak like that.
My heart clunks in my chest, words evading me. A foreign feeling of hope appears, and I grab onto it tight.
“That’s something we both have in common,” I reply.
Warmth covers my hand when he takes it and threads our fingers. My throat burns with emotion that I choke down. Right now isn’t for that.
The only thing I want to focus on is having him here with me and finally starting to feel like he’ll do what I’ve been wanting him to do since we started this break and put an end to it.
The lack of air conditioning in Darren’s dorm is suffocating as I lean against the kitchen counter and take another long sip of overly foamy beer. It’s July, and I’d hoped that his roommate would be gone by now, but of course, he’s not.
The all-year-living building is a blessing and a curse. Having to put up with his party freak of a roommate is a definite curse.
“You look warm,” Darren says, appearing in front of me.
He’s started growing a mustache this year, and it looks way too good on him.
I’m pretty sure twenty-year-olds aren’t supposed to be able to grow mustaches, but there’s no denying his.
With the new facial hair in addition to the muscles he’s bulked up during his time here, I’m quickly losing my composure.
It’s been two years since we’ve been . . . intimate, and I’m slowly losing my mind. After he left Vancouver in the spring, I’ve been slowly giving up hope of him putting an end to this break and finally sweeping me off my feet and into his bed.
Instead of doing that, he’s opted back to putting us in the best friend category. I’ve never hated one of my decisions as much as the one that started this mess.
“It’s a sauna in here,” I reply, fanning my face with my hand.
“You’re overdressed.”
Glancing down at myself, I frown. “What? I didn’t think this was against the dress code.”
“That’s not what I meant. You’re in pants and a long-sleeve. It’s thirty-five degrees outside. ”
He pinches my sleeve and pushes it up to my elbow before doing the same to the other. “Come with me.”
I follow without argument. He pushes his bedroom door open and brings me inside.
“I can’t fix your pants, but you can wear a T-shirt,” he says.
The small dresser against the wall opposite his double bed is cluttered with schoolbooks, empty boxes of pencils, a calculator, and a familiar picture frame. I roll my lips, staring at the photo of us at our high school graduation.
“I didn’t mean to take this one with me. It’s yours.”
Blinking, I take the shirt he’s offering me and hold it close. The dark grey fabric is soft, and I know without looking at the design on the front which one it is.
“You could always keep it here. For when I come visit,” I suggest, almost shyly.
“Is that a good idea? That feels pretty permanent.”
“Is permanent a bad thing? I thought that’s what this has always been.”
He frowns. “Of course it’s permanent. I just meant that we still have two years of this.”
“Two years,” I repeat, letting that sink in. “Or we could have two years of something else, Darren. What if this wasn’t the right decision?”
“You can’t know that yet.”
“Don’t you? Do you think this is right?”
He shakes his head, turning to sort through his messy textbooks. “It was your choice.”
Desperation claws at me. His words are right, but they sound so wrong.
“Tell me to put an end to it, then.”
“I’m not going to do that. Especially tonight.”
I stare down at the shirt in my hands and grip it tighter. “Don’t you want me?”
The question plops onto the floor. Darren doesn’t speak, letting the silence start to crawl down my throat, suffocating me .
There’s a crack in my chest. Then, I’m swallowing my pride and pulling my shirt off. It slips from my fingers, falling to the ground at my feet. The pulse from the music in the living room is wrong, and so is the heat in this place. Everything around me is wrong.
Darren’s the only right thing. He’s always been the right one.
“Darren,” I whisper, taking one small step toward him. “Answer me.”
The pain in his eyes throttles me when he turns around, gazing at me in a way I haven’t seen him look in too long. I hold my breath when he looks at my bare chest and then flicks back up, a muscle ticking in his jaw.
“I’ve always wanted you, Delaney. But you said four years.
You’ve been saying four years since we were teenagers, and when I put that ring on your finger, you made me agree again.
I’d have married you already if I knew that’s what you wanted and were ready for.
But you need these four years. Not two, but four.
Don’t ask me to break that agreement right now and risk you resenting me for it later. ”
He flicks a look at the shirt in my hand, and I use shaking hands to put it on.
“We’ve let the lines blur, and now, things are all messed up. We can’t keep doing this to each other.”
“We’re fine, Darren. I’m sorry. Just, don’t leave me—I’ll be fine with the boundaries. I can’t cut you off completely. Please, don’t do that,” I plead, my voice breaking.
Suddenly, he’s in front of me, gathering me into his arms. “I’m not doing that. We’re not, Elle. Don’t go there.”
“I can’t lose you.”
His exhale is weighted, like he’s just as scared as I am.
“I won’t lose you.”