Chapter 11 #2
My stomach does a small flip. That’s Stanley’s voice.
I was hoping that nobody was home. I turn the handle.
The house smells like coffee. And, faintly, underneath that, like the wreckage of last night that has been cleaned up but is still in the walls — beer and cologne and the small ghost of old bacon.
Stanley is on the couch in the living room.
His feet are up on the coffee table. A controller in his lap.
A soccer game paused on the TV. He’s in joggers and an old Wolves hoodie.
His hair’s wet like he just got out of a shower.
Rowan is at the dining room table with a mug at his elbow.
Percy’s in the kitchen, visible through the archway.
His hair is also wet, and I have apparently arrived at the everyone has just showered moment of Sunday at Hawthorne House.
All three of them look up at the same time.
Stanley pauses the game. “Oh shit. Melly.”
Rowan puts his mug down.
Percy looks up.
I hold up the stack. “I brought this back for Blue.”
An awkward stillness fills the house. No one knows what to say.
Rowan saves me. “He’s not home right now,” he says, gesturing at the small wooden bench by the front door. “Just leave it there.”
I cross to the bench and set the folded stack down. I adjust the t-shirt on top so it sits straight. I straighten the corner of the hoodie.
I turn to go.
“Melly.” Stanley’s voice.
I have my hand on the door, so I stop and turn.
Stanley is sitting up on the couch now. The controller is on the cushion beside him.
He has pushed his hood back. He’s not smiling, exactly.
He also doesn’t look like he’s about to crack a joke, which isn’t normal for Stanley.
My heart’s in my throat when I look at him and wonder what he’s about to say.
“Are you playing our boy, Blue?”
My stomach moves at the question. I look at him. I look at Rowan, who is watching me. I look at Percy at the archway, who isn’t looking at me anymore.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
He says easily, “Last Hawthorne House party, you had a boyfriend.”
I let go of the door and turn fully. I think for a half-second about lying. About we’re just friends. A little white lie would get me out of this house in under two minutes.
“Oh,” I say. “I’m not with him anymore.”
Stanley sits up straighter. “You two broke up?”
I nod. “Yeah. On Tuesday.”
“And it’s not an on-and-off relationship?”
My hands are getting nervous. I let them, but I keep my voice steady. “Actually, no. It was never on and off. We’re done.”
He stares at me, leaning more comfortably on the couch. “Why’d you guys break up?”
The real answer comes to mind. Because I’ve always wanted somebody else.
I don’t say that. I look at Stanley and observe his face.
He isn’t being mean. He’s not even being nosy.
He’s doing exactly what Mila would do for me.
Blue has somebody looking out for him. Stanley is Blue’s Mila.
The realization lands in my chest soft and warm.
I can’t explain what it means to me that these guys love Blue enough to call me out on my wrongs.
I knew for a very long time that Blue didn’t have that at home.
“Because we weren’t right for each other,” I answer. “The breakup was mutual.”
He watches me.
I add, “I didn’t tell Blue we broke up. I was hoping…we could be friends.”
The word friends is a lie and we all know it. Even Percy, who can barely hear this conversation, knows it.
“Friends?” Stanley repeats. He glances at Rowan. “Blue doesn’t have many friends that are girls.”
“Stan,” Rowan warns.
Stanley puts a hand up. “So what are your intentions with him?”
I look at Stanley again. I let the words sit in the air for a second, and I laugh.
Accidentally. I can’t help it. I have warmth in my chest that Stanley is for Blue like Mila is for me, and now that the roles have reversed, I actually think I appreciate this so much more.
And it shows that Blue hasn’t talked about me all that much.
Otherwise, Stanley would know Blue Golding has been the boy I’ve loved since forever.
Stanley’s question is so gentle and absurd and kind that my body has to do something with the kindness and what it does is laugh.
A real laugh. The kind that has my whole chest.
Stanley looks confused. “What’s funny?”
I catch my breath. I press my fingers to my mouth for a second to get my face back. “It’s nice,” I say. “That Blue has his team looking out for him. But…”
“But?”
I look around the room. “Do you guys really not know who I am to him?”
The room goes still.
Stanley looks at Rowan. Rowan looks at Percy. Percy looks at me. Nobody answers.
After a second, Stanley looks flustered. He shrugs. He squints. He morphs his face into something I’ve never seen before.
“Should we know?” he questions politely.
I smile, and I cannot stop it. I feel it grow on my face. I am, against everything I came here intending, beaming at three men I barely know in the living room of a house I should not be standing in.
Blue hasn’t told them about me.