Chapter 55
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Kit rockets my direction when I return to the suite. “You’re back safe.”
Levi must have just left.
“Have you been pacing?”
“Maybe a little.”
I chuckle.
Thank you for her.
“Let’s get Mia.” Three weeks and my voice still doesn’t sound like mine.
Too low, too slow. Davis reminded me how far I’ve drifted from the old Sophie.
But Austin isn’t coming back, so I have to figure out how to do things without him.
Kit follows me to my room. “It’s time I get back to the lake. Come with me?”
“Absolutely. I’m never out past ten anymore.”
I echo her sad smile. “And I’m buying you a Blizzard on the way.” I point at her. “And you’re not going to be weird about it.”
“I’ll try. Can I at least have a spoiler?”
I fire off a text to Mia and drop my phone on the desk.
“Davis is great. Fun, kind, heart-on-his-sleeve, cute.” Ditching the skirt, I opt for sweatpants and a hoodie.
Tug on my sneakers. “We’re actually really similar.
And he kept saying these sweet little things, almost by accident. He seems to really like me.”
We land back in our lounge, and I plop onto the floor.
Kit lowers gravely beside me. “Okay.”
“He had all the right answers. Mostly. We want the same things. Mostly. And our families … We’re actually compatible. Mostly.”
“That’s a lot of mostlys.”
I pick at a pillow, trace the outline of the Hang in There cat. The pines outside sway with the breeze.
“And?” she prods.
I pick at my nails. “The troll didn’t speak up once.”
Her brows knit. “The troll?”
I swallow. “That voice that says I’m too much. That I was never good enough for Austin. That I was bound to ruin everything.”
Kit recoils. “No one should ever make you feel that way. Austin did that?” she demands.
I rub my hands down my thighs. “No. I mean, he stopped me from kissing him a billion times, but he never said that.” His devoted eyes peering from under his hat.
His hand that always found mine. Reorienting his life around me.
He loved me. My stomach lurches. I push to my feet.
“He never said that.” But my voice wavers. “Before.”
Ding.
Mia
Meet you at the Jeep.
I barrel to the door. The world will feel better out there.
Kit scurries after me, pausing to slide into her flats. “Then he still feels that way, Sophs. One choice doesn’t change a person’s entire view. Did Austin say something to you?”
“Kit,” I clip. “He hasn’t and he won’t. I know how he feels because he won’t speak to me.
I’m just saying with Davis … the troll was quiet for a minute.
To Davis I’m still a good person. He wouldn’t care at all what I did.
He’d be—” I slow to a stop in the hallway.
“He’d be jealous. He doesn’t live in the Christian world of rules and expectations.
Austin will never speak to me again because of something that would make Davis ecstatic. ” I steady myself against the wall.
“Are you okay?” she asks softly. “Are you sure you want to go out?”
“Yes.” I push off and tear down the hallway, out the lobby doors toward the parking lot.
She jogs to catch up. “Rules and expectations. Is that how you see Mayberry?”
I pick up my speed. “I mean, yeah. Jesus is freedom, but churchiness isn’t.
The people around here are way too obsessed with regulations and red tape.
But Davis isn’t. That’s what I’m saying.
He goes out and does good things instead of being all proud of himself for following a million rules—rules that may or may not even be in the Bible. ”
Kit accidentally halts like she does when she’s thinking. I turn impatiently.
“That’s a valid concern,” she says.
I shove my hands into my hoodie pocket. “I like him, Kit. Maybe I’ll wait a few weeks, but I should just be with him.
It would be so much easier. He’s a good guy, and he likes me, and maybe he’ll help me silence the troll.
We’re actually compatible. Similar. If it ever did border-hop rebound territory, I’d actually be setting myself up for success.
” My throat constricts. “And what could I ever possibly do that would make him as angry as Austin is?”
A mutinous tear rolls down my cheek. More threaten to join it.
A memory plants itself in my consciousness, refusing to budge. Austin on his couch, fire in his eyes, asking how I fell in love with Jesus, loving me for my faith. It was everything.
I try to imagine Davis there instead. Maybe in a month, maybe in ten years. I tell him what I’ve been praying about—he cringes. I show him the verses I meticulously hand-letter—his face says there, there. I talk about my Snorkel—he changes the subject.
We could be anywhere … the Eiffel Tower, the Maldives, on a pair of Jet Skis. The great wide open, not a tether in sight. It wouldn’t lessen the blow when he doesn’t care about what I care about most.
Would it ever be enough?
More unwelcome memories. Austin against the chain-link fence, squeezing my hand as he spoke Bible verses over me. The way his voice caught when he talked about making Jesus proud. Insisting on being interruptible like him. How earnestly he prayed for me on our run.
Davis does have a motive for helping—he wants to feel good. He wants to be content with himself.
Austin gives so hard it crushes him.
They’re almost … opposites.
“Sophs, you’re not buying what you’re selling. Are you?”
I drag my gaze to her. “You know the guy who hates me with the fire of a thousand suns?”
Kit cycles through seventeen facial expressions. “Perfect 10 Things line. But the truth of it is so awful. But the fact that you’re quoting movies is a good sign. But I’m so mad at Austin. But maybe there’s hope. And despite his deplorable behavior right now, I’m still rooting for him.”
“Deplorable? You use really big words, KitKat.”
She pulls my arm so I’ll face her. “Sophs. What were you going to say about Austin?”
The knot in my chest aches. I can’t. My legs need to move.
“Don’t give up on him,” she says. “He’s just Wreck-It Ralph right now.”
I shake her off. “No. I can’t keep doing this to myself. Let’s go.”
Shuffling back from the gym on Thursday, I spot Ethan with a girl. D2 maybe. She looks ready to fake a phone call.
“Finn.” My voice sounds like a growl, so I clear my throat. “Walk with me.”
He gawks at me, like Kinda busy here.
“Can’t wait. C’mon.”
He jogs to catch up. “What was that?”
“I should ask you the same thing.”
“I was in the middle of asking Chloe out.” He glances at me. “What? We’re friends.”
“What were her hands doing, bro?”
“Uh. Holding each other? I dunno.”
“And her feet?”
“Kinda crossed-standing-up?”
“And her face?”
He slumps. “Nervous ’cause she likes me back?”
I shake my head.
“I’m a creep.”
“Not yet.”
“Fine. What do I do?”
I eye him and suck in a breath. “Give her a week to recover, and then tread lightly. Gotta watch the nonverbals, my man.”
“Could you talk to her for me?”
I scowl. “What is this, middle school? No.”
“At least tell me if I have a shot.”
“You’re a stud. You have a shot with any girl.”
He grins, but it dims. “So … uh … Abu wants to restart The Game this week.”
Once Flooders gets ahold of it, I give it a week before the whole school knows Ethan’s the guy behind hangman. Attention’s weird—looks fun until it’s not.
I meet his eyes. “Your thing, buddy. Your call.” I hold out a fist bump.
He tries to hide another smile, and I almost have one of my own.
Back in my room after a shower, I plop into my desk chair and flip open Electromagnetics to start my eight thousand problems of the night. A knock hits my wide-open door. Kit. Right—it’s Thursday.
“Jeeves is at his council meeting. Got moved this week.” I keep working.
“I know.”
“Then what are you doing here?” Not my most polite, but that look in her eye worries me.
“Sophie’s with Davis Powell now.”
I already heard, but the words are still a punch to the ribs, knocking the air out of me. Hearing them from her is too real—like watching the door lock from the outside.
“Not my business.” My pencil goes rogue, scribbling nonsense.
She lets out a breath. “It’s time you get over yourself and fix this.”
I spin around slowly. “You’re sticking your nose where you don’t belong, Kit. It’s ‘time’ you get going.”
“You did this for me once, and I needed it.”
“Is Sophie confused? Am I sending mixed signals?” I turn back to my work. “Nice try.”
“You’re not fooling me. You are not this angry about one mistake. That’s not you. Especially when you made plenty of your own. And when she was a mess? No. You love her so much. It must have gutted you to watch her like that. So what’s this really about?”
I flinch harder with every word. How could she know that? Levi doesn’t even seem to know. Desperation churns in my gut. I have to get her out of here. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Please leave me alone.”
“No,” she fires back. “Sophie’s running around with some popular, charming guy who’s not a believer, and it’s your fault. Who knows what could happen to her?” Her volume rises. “You have to fix it. Now.”
I clench my jaw so hard my teeth rattle, read the same problem again and again.
“I tried talking sense,” she says. “I really thought she’d go on one date Saturday and see he wasn’t you. But now she’s seen him every day since. I don’t like it. She won’t listen to me. Just waves me off and says he’s a good guy.”
I’ve never heard Kit like this. She’s not going to leave without some words, so I push some out, as respectfully as I can without facing her. “He is. Known him since Little League. Christian his whole life. He’s just … figuring stuff out. He won’t hurt her. Now go.”
The image of Sophie with Powell beats my insides to a pulp. Don’t think about it. This is how it is. It has to be.
Can’t breathe.
Moving on is good. I don’t want her to be alone. This is—
“Please.” Her voice drops. “I don’t trust him. I don’t like how he looks at her. You have to protect her. This is your job. God gave her to you.”
My stomach rolls. I should have protected her. It was my job. But I didn’t.
“You know Sophie.” She’s urgent now. “I’m afraid she’ll do anything to stop thinking about you, about what happened.”
Unbearable images flash. The pencil lead snaps, and I manically click the end.
“You’re the only one who can—”
“Get out,” I roar.
When I turn around, she’s gone.
Oh no. She’s been so much better lately, I forgot about her triggers. But I can’t chase her down—wouldn’t that make it worse? I rip out my phone.
Answer
Kit needs you
And then I jab the Call button. “C’mon, Jeeves. Answer.”
Thirty seconds. Then I’m tracking him down. No clue where they meet.
“Samwise?” he answers. “Where is she? What happened?”
“To her room, maybe. I yelled at her, and—”
“You what?” he spits.
“I’m really sorry. Lemme know if she’s not there and I’ll—”
But he’s gone too.