Chapter 16 #2
“When I got back, I went to Benny to apologize, then to Jaz. And I tried to come to you. I . . . drove out to Cambridge.”
“What?” Everything felt hot inside. I had no idea what he meant. “No, you didn’t.”
He nodded. “Punkin and I. You’d been there only a couple weeks, so I guess it had been a month after the funeral.
I found your dorm, and I saw you walking out of it with another girl.
Looked like you were headed to class, in a deep discussion about something.
” He blinked several times. “You looked . . . like you were in the right place. You know, beautiful campus, surrounded by history and academia . . . It took my breath away, honestly, seeing you there.”
“Seb . . .” I whispered, overwhelmed.
“I knew I didn’t belong there,” he argued. “Didn’t probably even deserve to be standing on campus. I worried maybe I’d be
making things worse, distracting you. I didn’t know how you were coping, after the funeral, and maybe me showing up wouldn’t
be the best thing. So I just drove back home.”
“You went all the way out there . . . ?”
He didn’t reply, but his eyes were glossy with emotion, and we couldn’t stop glancing at each other. Everything he’d told
me tumbled around in my head, and I didn’t know what to do with any of it. I felt guilty that he’d driven all the way out
there for me while I’d been utterly oblivious. As if it were another example of how I wasn’t paying attention to the people
who needed me. Him. Jaz. Maybe even Benny, too.
But more than that, I couldn’t stop thinking how Seb had been all over the place the past couple of years. Driving across
states. Living in weird places. Surviving. The kid I’d known my whole life being forced to grow up faster than any of us,
roaming the frozen northern wilds without family or friends. Being one step away from homelessness even now.
My heart squeezed.
We were quiet for a time as Punkin slowly nosed her way up the beach, back to the porch.
“Listen. You can crash here,” I said in a low voice. “For the summer. You can have Nana’s . . .” I blew out a breath. “You
can take the second bedroom.”
A jumble of emotions crossed his face. “Paige, whoa. I . . .”
“I know it’s kind of weird, but we’ll figure it out.
Maybe agree on some house rules . . . ?” What those would be, I wasn’t sure.
I was riffing. “I mean, you were already staying here before I showed up, and you need to know where you’re going to sleep every night—a place to eat and wash your clothes.
You shouldn’t have to play musical chairs. It’s not healthy.”
“It keeps me on my toes.”
“You’ve got a freaking dog, Seb. You both need stability. Crash here for the summer and get your shit together. I don’t know
about after I go back to Harvard—if I even can go back.”
“Hey! Don’t put it out there in the universe. You’re going back. I’ll help you get in touch with your dad. You’ll get what
you need.”
He sounded a lot surer than I felt. Even now, I desperately wanted to pick up my phone and check my email one more time for
a message from my father.
“Regardless, we’ll figure out something at the end of the summer. Just stay here for now.”
“Nana would roll over in her grave if she knew her precious virginal granddaughter was cohabitating with some random criminal.”
“One, you’re a known criminal; that’s different. And two, I’m not virginal, and Nana never treated me like a precious doll who had air for brains,
so fuck right off with that.”
“Paige, we can’t live together,” he scoffed, as if I’d asked him to turn a pumpkin into a carriage. Then a tiny line appeared
in the middle of his forehead, and he murmured, “Can we?”
“I didn’t invite you to sleep in my bed, I said you could crash here. As a friend. Or . . . a roommate. I mean, for the past year at Harvard I had a roommate I hated. At least you’re good
company.” I gave him a soft smile.
“Roommates . . .” He blinked rapidly, trying to get his emotions under control. “I don’t know. It’s a generous offer. I’ll think about it.”
“Come on,” I encouraged, scooting closer. “Nana would want you to. Stay and get your shit together . . . Help me find this
goddamn treasure. I mean, if we found the Golden Venus, I wouldn’t have to worry about getting my dad to sign a damn thing.”
He blew out a long breath. “If we found that Venus, none of us would have to worry about anything ever again.”
“Exactly!”
Timid eyes flicked to mine. He was thinking hard, I could see that. But he didn’t say anything.
“Come on,” I encouraged. “It’s just us, the oldest of friends. If you’re worried about what we did on the roof earlier tonight,
don’t be. Forget about it. It’s all good. Mistakes were made, but we’re adults.”
I felt rather pleased about this idea of mine and settled against the back of the swing by his side, certain that I’d fixed
everything—old friendships gone astray. War. Hunger. The rise of global fascism.
However, next to me, Seb had gone very still, very quiet. I feared I’d said something wrong. I just didn’t know what.
“Seb—”
“It wasn’t a mistake,” he said in a low, grave voice that was defensive and a little hurt.
“I didn’t mean . . .” What? I didn’t mean what? I blinked at him while he stared at the lake for a moment.
“What we did on the roof wasn’t a mistake, and I don’t want to forget it,” he told me, looking me directly in the eyes. “Do
you . . . regret it?”
We stared at each other in the moonlight, knees touching on the porch swing as chaotic emotions zigzagged around my chest.
I shook my head slowly. “No.”
He said something under his breath that sounded like “Thank God,” nodding as he exhaled a long breath. “Okay, all right. I’ll think about your offer. But that’s a start for now.”
A start of what, exactly, I don’t think either of us knew.
But the expression on his face turned tender as he studied me. “Tired?”
I nodded. I hadn’t realized until he said it, but I felt like an empty husk. It was past two in the morning.
“Paige?”
“Yes?”
“Can I hold you?”
Frantic flutters gripped my chest. I wasn’t just experiencing a case of butterflies; I had an entire trained army of them
living inside me, and they were about to riot.
“No funny business,” he assured me, blue eyes glinting in the moonlight as he held out his hand. “Please. C’mere.”
Hesitant, heart racing, I slid closer, and we stretched out sideways together on the swing, halfway sitting, halfway lying
down. The weight of his arm curled around my shoulders and tucked me tightly against his body. It felt so natural, the way
I slipped my arm around his back and easily fit into the crook of his arm. The way he gathered me closer. The way my head
rested against his shoulder.
He was right. We couldn’t be roommates. I mean, come on. What had I even been thinking?
Fact was, I wanted him, simple as that.
Complicated as that, too.
Punkin jumped onto the swing and turned in a circle, settling into the corner and draping herself over our feet. Seb and I held each other, drowsily watching the moonlit lake as sleep began to pull me under.
“Just this,” he whispered, running gentle fingers down my hair.
And I knew exactly what he meant. Just this. Calm. Safe. Together. Possibilities stretching out in front of us as far as we could see. Not friction, not uncertainty,
not loneliness.
Just this.
Just us.
I’d give anything for it, too.