26. Dorien
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
DORIEN
Halloween night.
Carter is wearing a hotdog costume. Full-body foam, mustard stitched down the front.
He’s on the sectional sipping beer and explaining to Aubrey why his Hargrove buddy Kyle would “objectively be a great boyfriend.” Aubrey adjusts the brim of a pointed black hat she said she sewed herself. It’s a structurally sound hat.
On the other side of the living room, Cinna and June have been whispering for twenty minutes.
Cinna’s in a white toga dress with a gold laurel wreath on her head.
June is in neon leggings and an oversized blazer with shoulder pads, a massive scrunchie pulling her hair into a side ponytail.
The eighties. She looks ridiculous, but also stunning.
I’m wearing my dad’s deerstalker tweed hat and holding an empty tobacco pipe that belonged to my grandfather. My grandfather gave them to my dad, so he then put them in a box. He never smoked and never wore the hat, so I figured he’d never notice they’re gone.
A horror movie plays on the TV, but no one is watching it.
I glance at June again because my eyes have been returning to her all evening. I figure she and Cinna are whispering about that douchebag guy June brought.
Last night was pure hell. Carter told me the douchebag had left, but when June’s headboard started hitting the wall, I panicked.
Did he come back? I wasn’t sure, so I sat in the dark making fists as my mind played out scenarios.
I thought, That moan has to be fake. And then, Merde, what if it isn’t?
It’s not like I’ve heard a woman’s moans in real life, considering I’m a virgin.
I drove myself insane last night with all my thoughts. June moaning through the wall made my jaw clench, made the muscles low in my abdomen tighten. Putain. Even though they were fake, those sounds made me hungry for the real ones. I want to hear her say my name like that.
Cinna’s high-pitched laugh breaks through my daze and I reel myself back.
Why do I feel so different now? Obsessive even.
After everything with June at the graveyard, I still don’t want forgiveness.
I don’t deserve it. But her giving it anyway made the chains I’ve trapped myself behind loosen just a little.
The darkness is still there, and an ocean of guilt, but there’s more space in my lungs.
I’d been breathing shallowly for twelve years and didn’t realize it until the pressure finally eased.
Talking with her about what happened flipped a switch.
All the feelings I buried, every desire I locked away because wanting her felt like pointing a loaded gun at the people around me, are all surfacing.
Fast. I’ve been doing things for her before I realize I’m doing them.
Holding doors. Bringing coffee. Standing too close in class.
Saying things I used to only think. My hands keep reaching for her and I can’t make them stop.
I need her. I need to love her, because letting myself get pulled into her orbit makes me feel like a whole person for the first time.
It fucking terrifies me. The last time we were on the same side, someone died. But my discipline has cracked, and every time she’s near I can’t help but move closer.
“Your costume is so dumb, you know that right?” June is looking at me across the room, frowning.
I glance down at my white shirt and jeans. I hold up the pipe. “Because Sherlock Holmes never had a casual day?”
She starts to laugh but catches herself. She rolls her eyes and turns back to Cinna.
I study the line of her neck and the way her hair falls from that spot behind her ear. I want to cross the room, take her hand, pull her somewhere with a door and a lock. I want our first kiss to happen.
What the hell am I thinking?
I need air.
I retreat to the back deck where I can be alone with my thoughts.
It’s late October in New York, so the air has a sharp chill.
I don’t have a jacket nearby, so I let myself shiver.
The forest behind the cabin is one long silhouette, tree trunks emerging from the blackness where the porch light reaches.
I light a joint and lean against the railing, letting the smoke do its job.
Carter comes out after a few minutes, still in the hotdog suit. He leans on the railing beside me and says nothing.
Then he gives me the look. The one that means he already knows what I’m about to lie about and he’s deciding whether to let me.
I don’t give him anything.
He nods and sips his beer. We stand there in the cold. One hotdog. One man trying to ignore he’s always been in love.
It’s after two in the morning and the cabin is quiet.
The rest of the evening, we drank, watched movies, played a board game Carter took too seriously.
Cinna and Carter then danced to music from her phone until Aubrey threw a pillow at them.
It was the best Halloween I’ve had since I was a kid. Easy.
Now everyone is in their beds and I’m sitting in the dark living room staring at the forest silhouette outside. I’m not thinking about anything, just existing in the quiet.
The front door creaks. I didn’t even hear Carter leave his room, but now he’s near the front door in sweats, and he’s holding the door open for someone. I switch on a lamp and both of them gasp.
“Bro,” Carter whispers. “It’s no longer Halloween. Why are you scaring me?”
I glance at his guest. It’s Vienna. She’s wearing a coat over red silk PJs, and she’s in full makeup.
Interesting.
And possibly, an opportunity for revenge.
“Take my room,” I tell them.
Carter blinks a few times, then a smirk forms slowly on his face. He’s realized what I’m doing. “You sure?”
“Yup.”
He leads her down the hall. My door opens and closes, and I smile to myself.
Morning light fills the kitchen. I’m at the counter eating cereal from the box, shirtless, because yesterday I learned what that does to June and I’m selfish enough to repeat it.
She walks in looking like she hasn’t slept. I didn’t expect her to. There are deep purple crescents under her eyes.
She sees me and shoots me a look filled with daggers. “Guess you decided you needed a workout last night?” She yanks open a cabinet.
I chew my cereal and say nothing.
She sets her mug on the counter so hard I’m surprised the ceramic doesn’t break. “You sound like a goat.”
I hold in a laugh and grab my coffee mug. I watch her over the rim. Her body is pure tension at this point. She’s jealous, and the jealousy is proof of what I already knew but needed her to show me.
“Can you describe it to me?” I ask calmly.
She pours coffee then slams the coffee pot on the counter. Again, I’m surprised nothing breaks. “And your exercise buddy sounds like a donkey.” She mimics what I’d call a moaning donkey.
It’s getting really hard to keep my composure; my eyes are watering from holding in my laugh. I swallow hard before speaking, managing to keep my tone level. “Sounds sexy.”
She rolls her eyes and I’m expecting more jabs thrown my way, but her face suddenly crumples. Her eyes become glassy and her chin trembles once, a micro-movement she tries to hide by turning away from me.
The satisfaction drains from my gut, and I put my mug down. “June,” I start.
Dis-lui. Tell her.
My mouth stays open because I’m about to let it all spill out, to admit it wasn’t me. That there are no other women. There will never be other women. There is only her. It’s only ever been you. And that I love—
Carter walks in. Vienna is behind him, adjusting the strap of her summer top that has no business being worn during fall.
June gasps and then stares. Vienna doesn’t acknowledge her, just sweeps past to the coffee maker. June’s eyes dart from Vienna to Carter to the hallway. Then she turns to me, putting everything together in her head. And I think she must realize how she just revealed her feelings for me.
We look at each other. When I’m sure she’s going to speak, she doesn’t. Instead, she storms out.
I’m not sure what to do. I should go after her and apologize, but I’m too shocked at myself—I was about to tell her everything. Now the window is closed, and I can’t tell if I’m relieved or wrecked.
She certainly doesn’t want to hear my feelings now. But I do need to apologize. I just can’t to her face.
Lache. Coward.
I text her: Sorry about the stunt. It was childish.
The three dots dance on the screen but only for a second.
June: Whatever. I did it to you. We’re both childish I guess. And we’re even.
I pocket my phone. Sure, we’re even, but I don’t want to keep tally anymore.
I want to be honest.