Chapter 18 Nova
Nova
I don’t go down for dinner.
I hear them. Voices through the floor, the clatter of plates, someone laughing at something. Normal sounds. The sounds of people who didn’t just ruin everything by kissing one of their housemates on the front steps like an idiot.
I sit on the edge of my bed and stare at the wall.
I kissed him.
No. He kissed me. He moved first. His hand on my jaw, his mouth on mine, and I just—
I kissed him back.
My face burns. I press my palms against my cheeks like I can push the heat back in.
What is wrong with me?
They let me stay here. They gave me a room and food and walked me to class and didn’t ask for anything. And I repaid that by—
I can’t even finish the thought.
The smell of dinner drifts up through the floor. My stomach cramps but I don’t move. I’m not going down there. I’m not sitting at that table with all of them while Locke looks at me and they all know.
Do they know?
Kyron saw. He was standing right there. He saw my face, my lips, the bags on the ground. He knows.
Which means they all know by now.
I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them.
I ruined it.
The thought settles in my chest like a stone.
I had something. For two weeks I had something—a place to sleep, people who showed up, a version of normal I’d never had before.
And now it’s going to get weird. They’re going to pull back.
Start treating me differently. Start exchanging looks when they think I’m not watching.
I’ve seen it before. Not this, not exactly, but close enough. The way people shift when you become a problem. The way the air changes right before they decide you’re not worth the trouble.
I should have known better.
I should have been better.
The house goes quiet eventually. Footsteps on the stairs, doors closing, the creak of the old floors settling. I don’t move. I sit in the dark with my arms around my knees and I don’t sleep.
The phone sits on my nightstand. I haven’t touched it.
I grab it before I can talk myself out of it. Unlock the screen.
One text.
Beckett: You okay?
Two words. Sent at 11:47pm. Six hours ago. He waited up.
I lock the phone and put it face down on the nightstand.
I don’t know how to answer that. I don’t know how to answer anything right now.
His hand in my hair. The sound he made against my mouth. The way he looked at me after, like I’d done something to him he wasn’t expecting.
I didn’t mean to.
But that’s not true either. I could have stepped back. I could have turned my head. I could have done anything except stand there and let him kiss me and then kiss him back like I’d been waiting for it.
Had I been waiting for it?
No. No. That’s not—
I think about Zoe. The bench at the makeup counter. The way she looked at me when she said you’ll see.
“I couldn’t be in a room with them without my skin feeling like it was on fire. I didn’t understand why I kept wanting to be near them even when it scared me.”
I told her that wasn’t me. That I didn’t feel that way.
I’m such a liar.
But it doesn’t matter what I want. It matters what I did. And what I did was kiss someone I’m living with and then run away like a scared animal.
Great. Really great start.
I get dressed in the dark. Grab my bag. Check the time.
Early. Way too early. But I can’t stay in this room and I can’t go downstairs and sit at that table and pretend everything’s normal.
So I leave.
The hallway is quiet. The house is still. I make it to the top of the stairs and start down, keeping my footsteps light, keeping my breathing even, keeping my eyes on the door like if I just get through it everything will be fine.
Beckett is leaning against the wall by the entrance.
I see him. Pale pink hair, dark eyes, tattoos disappearing under his sleeves. He’s holding a mug of something, steam curling up, and he’s watching me come down the stairs with an expression I can’t read.
I don’t stop.
I don’t say good morning or hi or sorry or any of the things a normal person would say. I just adjust my grip on my bag and walk past him and push through the door and I’m outside, I’m out, I’m gone.
The air is cold. Good. Fine. I can work with cold.
I walk.
The campus is mostly empty this early. A few people heading to the gym, a maintenance cart humming down a side path. I don’t look at any of them. I just walk, fast, like I’m late for something, like there’s somewhere I need to be that isn’t just away.
My thoughts won’t stop.
What if it changes everything?
It already has. It changed the second his mouth touched mine.
What if they act weird?
They will. Of course they will. Kyron already looked at me different. The others will too. They won’t say anything—they’ll just stop meeting my eyes. Start closing doors when I walk into the room.
I walk faster.
What if they pretend it didn’t happen?
That might be worse. Sitting across from Locke at breakfast while everyone acts like I didn’t have my fingers in his shirt and his hand in my hair and—
What if they don’t care?
My chest tightens. That’s the worst option. The one where it meant nothing. Where I’ve been awake all night over something he’s already forgotten.
I’ve seen this before. I know what it looks like when people decide you’re too much.
It didn’t mean anything.
I try the thought on. It doesn’t fit.
It was adrenaline. The shopping trip. The makeover. I was overwhelmed and he was there and it just happened.
Closer. But still wrong.
I didn’t even mean to. He moved first.
True. But I didn’t pull away.
I didn’t want to pull away.
And that’s what I keep circling back to. Not what he did. What I did. What I wanted.
What I’m still wanting.
Fuck.
They were kind to me. I ruined it.
The thought settles into my chest like something with teeth.
You finally had something real. A place. People. And you couldn’t just—
I don’t finish the thought. I don’t have to. I already know how this ends. I’ve lived it enough times to recognize it.
It’s better if… I can’t finish the thought.
The path curves. I’m not paying attention to where I’m going. My feet know the route to the main building and they’re taking it without consulting me.
Just get through today. One class. Then figure out the rest.
I round a corner.
I don’t see him until it’s too late.
I walk directly into a chest. A very large, very solid chest that doesn’t move when I hit it.
“Shit,” I breathe.
Then I look up.
And everything gets worse.