Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ROSALIE
I'd been tossing and turning for hours, my mind spinning between calculus equations I failed, Daisy's harsh words that kept replaying on loop, and the constant, persistent thought of Derek.
Always Derek.
The fight with Daisy had left me raw in a way I couldn't quite explain.
She wasn't wrong...I did suck at maintaining friendships, at texting first, at being the kind of person people could count on.
But hearing it said out loud, with that edge of frustration in her voice, had cracked something open in my chest.
Was I really that bad? Did everyone think I was self-absorbed and distant?
I thought about Nova's comments earlier about me being an “uninterested guy” when it came to friendship. About Ivy always saying, “I wanted to text you but…” About Aaron constantly checking in because he assumed I wouldn't reach out first.
Maybe I really was the problem.
I reached for my phone, thumbs hovering over the screen. It was almost 2 AM. Normal people were asleep. Normal people didn't text their... whatever Derek was to me... in the middle of the night because they were having an existential crisis.
But Derek wasn't a normal person. And neither was I.
Are you awake?
I stared at the message, watching the “delivered” status change to “read” almost immediately. Three dots appeared.
Derek
Yeah. Can't sleep. You okay?
Can I call you?
Derek
Please do.
My finger trembled slightly as I hit the call button. He picked up before the first ring finished.
“Hey,” his voice was rough with exhaustion, but alert. “What's wrong?”
“Nothing's wrong,” I said automatically, then paused. “Actually, that's a lie. I'm spiraling.”
“Tell me about it.” I could hear rustling on his end, like he was sitting up in bed. “What's going on in that beautiful head of yours?”
Despite everything, I smiled. “Did you just call my head beautiful?”
“Would you prefer I call your ass beautiful? Because I can do that too, but I figured at 2 AM we should stick to the wholesome compliments.”
A laugh bubbled out of me, unexpected and desperately needed. “You're ridiculous.”
“And you're avoiding. Come on, Thorn. Talk to me.”
I pulled my knees to my chest, wrapping my free arm around them. Daisy's bed across the room was empty. She was still at Jeremy's. The room felt too big, too quiet.
“Do you think I'm a bad friend?” The question came out smaller than I intended.
Derek was quiet for a beat. “Where is this coming from?”
“Daisy. Nova. Ivy. Everyone, basically.” I rested my chin on my knee. “They all keep pointing out that I'm terrible at staying in touch, that I don't text first, that I seem uninterested. And they're right. I am terrible at all of that.”
“Rosie.”
“No, let me finish.” I took a shaky breath.
“I've been thinking about it all night. When I was dancing, I had this built-in social structure, you know?
We rehearsed together, performed together, and suffered through barre together.
I didn't have to text people because I saw them every single day for hours. Friendships just... happened by proximity.”
“Okay,” Derek said softly, encouraging me to continue.
“But then I lost ballet. And suddenly I didn't have that structure anymore.
I came to college and everyone's texting, making plans, sliding into DMs, and I just..
. I don't know how to do that. It feels forced.
Like I'm performing friendship instead of just having it.” My voice cracked slightly.
“And now I'm realizing that maybe I've been so caught up in my own shit.
..my injury, my identity crisis, trying to figure out who I am without dance.
..that I've been a terrible friend to everyone.”
“That's not true,” Derek said firmly.
“But it is. Nova said she felt like she was texting a guy who wasn't interested. Those were her exact words. And Daisy...God, Daisy basically told me I'm self-absorbed and that I only reach out when I need something.”
“Did she actually say that?”
I thought back to the café, to her frustrated expression. “Not exactly. But that's what she meant. She was right to call me out.”
Derek sighed. “Okay, can I say something without you getting defensive?”
“That's a great way to start a sentence,” I muttered, but there was no real anger to my words. “Go ahead.”
“You're being too hard on yourself. Yes, you're not a big texter. Yes, you're more introverted than the girls you're hanging out with. But that doesn't make you a bad friend, Rosalie. It makes you different. And different isn't wrong.”
“But...”
“I'm not done.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “You showed up to my recovery every single week last semester. You baked for me, kept me company, and made me laugh when I wanted to give up. You asked about my day, my progress, and my feelings. You were present.”
“That's different,” I protested. “You were injured. You needed...”
“I needed a friend. And you were one. The best one I've ever had, actually.” His voice softened.
“You think I don't notice how you add songs to our playlist exactly when I need to hear them?
How can you tell when I'm having a bad day just by the way I walk? How you push me in Pilates but know exactly when to back off?”
My throat tightened. “That's just... I don't know. Paying attention?”
“Exactly. That's being a good friend, Rosie. You pay attention in ways that matter. So what if you're not constantly texting? So what if you prefer quality time over constant digital connection? That doesn't make you self-absorbed. It makes you intentional.”
I was quiet, letting his words sink in. “Daisy doesn't see it that way.”
“Daisy is dealing with her own shit right now. She's about to sleep with Jeremy, which is bringing up all her trauma from her ex. She's probably projecting some of her anxiety onto you.”
“That’s what I thought…”
“Look,” Derek continued, “I'm not saying Daisy and Nova don't have a point. Maybe you could text more, check in more often. But that's something you can work on without deciding you're fundamentally broken and unable to maintain relationships. You hear me?”
“I understand,” I whispered.
“Good. Because I'm not done defending your honor.”
A wet laugh escaped me. “There's more?”
“Oh, so much more. Should I mention how you dropped everything to chase after me when I had my post-game breakdown? How you drove my car...terribly, I might add...just to distract me?”
“You needed those things...”
“And you provided them. Without being asked. Without expecting anything in return. That's what friendship is, Rosie. It's showing up when it matters.” He paused. “And you always show up for me.”
Tears burned behind my eyes. “You show up for me, too.”
“Then we're good at this,” Derek said simply. “We're good at being there for each other. And that's the foundation of... us.”
Us. The words hung in the air between us.
“Derek?” My voice was barely a whisper.
“Yeah?”
“I like the sound of… us.”
“I'm serious, Rosie. I care about you. More than I've cared about anyone. And that scares the shit out of me because I've spent my whole life watching my parents destroy each other in the name of love. I don't know how to do this without screwing it up.”
“I don't either,” I confessed. “I've never even had a boyfriend. I don't know the rules. I don't know how often I'm supposed to text you, or when it's okay to call, or if I'm being clingy, or...”
“There are no rules,” Derek interrupted gently. “That's what I'm learning. There's no timeline, no checklist, no perfect way to do this. We just... figure it out as we go.”
“But what if I'm terrible at it? What if I'm as bad at relationships as I am at friendships?”
“You're not bad at friendships, we've established this. And even if you were, which you're not, I'm probably worse. I literally built my entire personality around avoiding emotional connections.”
I smiled despite my tears. “We're kind of a mess, aren't we?”
“The messiest,” he agreed, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “But maybe that's okay. Maybe we're supposed to be a mess together.”
“Together,” I repeated softly. “I like the sound of that.”
“Me too.” He was quiet for a moment. “Rosie, can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Why did you really call me? I mean, I'm glad you did. But this feels like more than just Daisy's comments.”
I bit my lip, debating how honest to be. But this was Derek. If I couldn't be honest with him, who could I be honest with?
“I'm scared,” I admitted. “Of us. How much I like you. Of how much I'm starting to need you.”
“Need me?”
“Yeah. Like, I used to be completely self-sufficient. I handled my injury alone, dealt with my identity crisis alone, and navigated college alone. And now...” I took a shaky breath.
“Now I find myself wanting to text you about stupid things.
Wanting your opinion on decisions. I want to hear your voice when I can't sleep.
And that terrifies me because what if you realize I'm too much? Or not enough? Or just... not worth the effort?”
“Rosalie.” His voice was rough with emotion. “You are always going to be worth the effort. Always.”
“You don't know that. We've only been dating for like five minutes.”
“I've known you for over a year. I've seen you at your lowest and your highest. I've watched you rebuild yourself from the ground up. I know exactly who you are and trust me...you're worth every single second.”
A sob caught in my throat. “I wish you were here.”
“Me too. But I'm here now, on the phone. And I'm not going anywhere until you're ready to sleep.”
“That might be a while. My brain won't shut off.”
“Then tell me what's going on in there. Every thought. I want to hear them all.”