Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Will keeps his word. He stays away. I barely see him the rest of the semester.
Over the summer, he takes a job at a camp a few hours from home, which means he’s only around for a week before we return to campus.
He’s avoiding me, I know, and it’s fine if that’s what he wants to do. I won’t try to stop him.
I’m happy, and I don’t miss him.
I don’t even think about him.
Banks and I are still planning to hang out this year, though he’s remained adamant about not wanting to get too serious.
Next semester is his last, and after he finishes his PhD, he’s moving home.
Neither of us wants to get hurt when that happens.
He has to build a life away from here and I have to stay and focus on school.
I haven’t asked too much about his plans—how far away he’ll be, if he’s absolutely sure we can’t make it work, if he’d ever change his mind—because I’m afraid of the answers.
And he hasn’t offered them, even with my subtle prompting.
We’re surface-level, destined to never leave the shallow end, but I think we could be more.
It doesn’t matter, though, what could be. I have to leave it alone. Eventually, I’ll have to leave him alone.
For now, we’re having fun. Now that we’re back on campus, we’ll see each other whenever our schedules allow it.
He called me once a week over the summer.
We talked about books and movies. Art. He’s interesting in a way most boys my age are not.
Seven years between us isn’t that big a difference in the grand scheme of things, but Banks feels like a man in every way.
He has opinions, real ones. He’s so smart it’s almost intimidating.
And he’s interested in me. Not just in sleeping with me, but in my thoughts.
He drills me about my ideas. He reads the books I like and asks my opinion about everything.
Like he’s trying to learn me.
I’ve never been studied in the way Banks studies me. Like I’m worthy of being majored in.
And still, no matter how interested he seems, he keeps reminding me this has to end. That his focus is his future, and I should focus on mine. That when the time comes for him to leave, he will. And I’m not part of the plan after that. I can’t be.
He doesn’t see how good we are together, and maybe it’s my fault because I keep pretending I’m fine with this. I know I’ll be fine with it, eventually, but I just don’t think I’m there quite yet.
Not if I’m honest with myself.
Which is why, on the last night of Welcome Week in the fall, I go to the annual bonfire without asking if he’ll be there. Because that’s the sort of thing someone focusing on her own future would do.
I’m a sophomore now. Settled. Growing. It’s time to build a life and a place here all on my own.
Jess skips ahead of me, her curls flying. She has on white jean shorts and a crop top with a flannel thrown over it, her cheeks and collarbone smeared with glitter.
“This year is going to be special,” she tells me conspiratorially. We’re both a little buzzed from the shot of tequila we each took before we left the dorm.
I’ve never really liked the way alcohol feels in my body—the buzzy loss of control. But Jess said it was important to ring in the new school year, and I didn’t want to seem like I was judging her.
The leaves crunch underfoot as we walk through the woods. The fire glows orange and eerie in the distance through the trees, and I can taste the sharp bite of the smoke. All around, people jog past us, laughing, shouting, and celebrating.
A group of guys stumbles into me, not paying attention. One looks back just long enough to say, “Shit. Sorry.”
When we finally make it deep enough into the woods that the fire is no longer obstructed by trees, it takes my breath away. It’s massive, probably bigger than is safe. The heat hits my face even from back here. It feels good in the cool night air.
My eyes scan the crowd, searching for familiar faces from last year. I spot a few people I recognize from class, a handful of others from our dorm, and even more from around campus.
Banks isn’t here, but then, I didn’t expect him to be. He’s far too serious to hang out with the rest of us at a bonfire party that’s almost certain to end in disaster of some kind.
I’m still scanning when my eyes land on his face. My breath catches in my throat, and I shove my hands into the pockets of my shorts.
Will.
He’s there, across the bonfire, surrounded by people and looking entirely at ease.
As if he can feel me—my presence and my gaze lingering on his skin—his laughter cuts short.
His shoulders go rigid, his chin lifting as he turns toward the heat of the flames.
He looks up. Over. Around. His eyes methodically comb through the crowd of blurry faces, past the dancing groups and shifting shadows, barreling right through the smoke until they slam into mine.
I physically feel the impact. I’ve fallen from a cliff and crashed into the surface of the darkest ocean, dragged under before I can catch one last breath.
Will snaps his gaze away at once, then slowly, his eyes return to me, a wave returning to the shore. He got a tan over the summer from his days in the sun. A corner of his mouth lifts, but it’s not a smile—not really.
It’s more of a grimace. A challenge.
A fire ignites in my belly.
His attention is drawn to two girls dancing in front of him, and he opens his mouth to say something. I can’t read his lips, but I know the energy. I know what he’s doing.
The girls move closer and he takes one of their hands, leading them both to one of the many heavy, low-slung wooden chairs farther back from the fire. When he sits, one of their bodies blocks him from my sight.
And good, honestly. I don’t need to see him. It’s better if I don’t.
“You okay?” Jess asks, and I realize she’s probably been talking for a while.
“Sorry. I think I zoned out there for a minute. What’d you say?” I blink, shaking my head to rid myself of racing thoughts.
Jess bobs her head side to side playfully. “I said Zach’s over there. You good if I go?” She gestures to a guy with bright blond, messy hair. They’ve been dating since around January, I think.
“Yeah, I’m good. Go ahead.”
She hesitates, her smile fading. “Opal. Promise me you’re going to have fun tonight. Live a little. Get out of your head.”
The words land hard. I’m tired of being the one she has to convince to have fun. I really am. “I will. I promise.”
With a final lingering look, she jogs ahead, leaving me alone by an empty picnic table. I grab a hard seltzer from a nearby cooler and crack it open, sitting down on the tabletop.
I can do this. I can relax. Have fun.
Try as I might, what I can’t do is stop my eyes from traveling across the bonfire.
To Will.
One of the dancing girls is now sitting sideways across his lap. They’re deep in conversation, his palm moving slowly up and down her thigh, his other hand playing with her hair.
Lava laps at my chest. A jealous beast claws at my ribs.
I look away, really I do, but just as quickly, my eyes are back.
This time, he’s staring at me. He winks—the motherfucker winks.
Like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
And he likes knowing I can’t look away.
Without warning, that wicked grin still on his lips, he pulls her against his mouth.
Hard. Something dark and deadly twists in my gut.
His eyes finally release mine as his mouth devours hers.
His hand tangles in her hair, and she melts against him, turning in his lap until she’s straddling him.
It’s raw and passionate and terrible. His hands come to her hips, directing her, guiding her as she grinds against him.
Heat climbs my neck, and I tear my eyes away. I stand from the table and move farther down until the fire blocks my view of him.
It’s a college party. People are going to hook up.
Will’s single. He’s allowed to do what he wants.
I just feel bad for the girl, really.
He’s an asshole, and she deserves better.
I do not care what he does.
“Hey. Opal, right?” A man’s voice to my right draws my attention. I recognize his face, but I can’t place his name. “Paul,” he says after a beat, reading my silence for what it is. “We were in Intro to Psych last year.”
“Oh yeah. Hey.” Paul. Right. I vaguely remember him. He was always quiet in class, and he usually sat near the back. “How was your summer?”
The question is boring, even to me, but I can hardly focus. My mind is pulsing to Will’s name, like a heartbeat. All I can think about is his stupid hands and his stupid face and that stupid wink.
“Good. Yeah, fine. Hey, have you seen your friend Jess around? I thought I saw you guys get here together.”
“Jess? Oh, right. Yeah. She’s around here somewhere.” Then, as I process what he’s asked, I add, “She was with her boyfriend last I saw her.”
His face falls. “Oh.”
“You okay?” I would almost feel bad for him if I weren’t so distracted. Fucking Will.
“Yeah, yeah. Of course. Can I…get you another drink?”
I’m not blind to the situation. I know I’m the consolation prize right now. The girl he’s going to try to hook up with because he can’t get with the girl he actually wants.
But at this moment, I’m okay with it. A smile spreads across my lips. “That’d be great.”
He disappears, and I chug the rest of my mostly full can of cherry seltzer. When Paul returns, he passes me a new drink and tosses my empty can into a nearby trash bag.
Taking his hand, I lead him back to the picnic table.
When we stop, I let my eyes wander just once, long enough to see the girl is still on Will’s lap, though their make-out session has momentarily paused and they’re talking again.
I pop open the tab and hop up onto the picnic table, dragging Paul to stand between my legs. I throw an arm over his shoulder and lean in too close. “Is this okay?”