Chapter 27 #2
Then Ethan lets out a slow, wheezing, “No fucking way. Bold time to proclaim it buddy.”
Tara’s eyes go comically wide. Alex slaps a hand over her mouth. Alfie just raises one brow and sips his drink.
Delilah still hasn’t moved. She’s just... processing. Blinking. Breathing.
“You said dare,” I say, as casually as I can, taking a long sip of my drink.
Delilah finally glances over at me, her expression unreadable.
“So what’d you say in the text?” she asks, cool and controlled.
I shrug. “Open it if you wanna know.”
Delilah stares down at the screen, her expression unreadable.
I take a long sip of my drink like this is no big deal, even though I can feel my pulse in my ears.
“So,” Delilah says after a beat, lifting her gaze to me. “Is that supposed to be funny?”
The room, which had slowly started recovering, goes silent again.
“What?”
She holds her phone up slightly, not enough for anyone else to see the screen. “The text. Is it a joke?”
My stomach twists. “No.”
Her brow rises. “Seriously?”
“In the sacred realm of Truth or Dare,” I say, half-grinning, trying to lighten it, “you don’t lie. I did the dare. I have a crush on you. Big deal. You know that.”
She lets out a dry, humorless laugh. “Wow.”
I don’t know what to say. Delilah stands up, brushing off her jeans. The room watches her.
“I’m going home,” she mutters. “Thank you all for having me.”
Tara’s eyes widen. “Wait—Delilah—”
Alex opens her mouth, closes it. She’s already at the door.
Tara whispers, “Holy shit.”
I rise too, instinct kicking in. “Delilah, come on—”
She spins back toward me. “You don’t get to make me feel like a punchline, then act like you’re confused that I’m pissed.”
“I wasn’t trying to—”
But she’s already walking toward the door. Nobody says anything for a moment.
Then Tara nudges my knee with hers, hard.
“Go,” she hisses.
Freddie crosses his arms. “You’re the one who hit send, Romeo.”
Ethan nods toward the hallway. “Don’t be an idiot, man.”
I stand there like a total moron for three seconds longer than I should and then I follow her.
“Delilah!” I call from the door. The neighbor’s dog barks. She’s getting on her bike and I have no shoes on, I run after her catching up with her a few meters down the road.
“Look, I know you don’t like me back—”
“Jesus, could you say it in a douchebaggier way?”
The grin slips off my face.
“I’m being honest—”
“You’re being performative.” Her voice is sharp, the kind of sharp that means she’s already regretting saying anything at all. “You didn’t even look at me when you sent it. You made it a game. You didn’t even ask me—you just threw it out there for your little audience.”
I stand up straighter. “That’s not what this was.”
“No? Then what was it, Troy? A casual confession? A flex in front of your friends to get me to react?”
She’s standing there, arms crossed, lit only by the glow of a streetlamp, her breath visible in the cold night air. And somehow, she’s still the most vibrant thing on this empty street.
“I didn’t mean for it to be like that,” I say quietly. “I panicked. I didn’t want to text anybody else. Hell, I didn’t have anybody else to text. And I do like you, I’ve been making that pretty clear for weeks but trying to take it slow and be mature about it.”
Delilah lets out a bitter laugh. “Right. Because telling a girl you like her in front of a crowd, as a dare, screams stable emotional maturity.”
“Would you have believed me if I’d said it when we’re alone? Because I did, and then you basically ignored me for weeks.”
She falters for a second. Her lips press into a tight line.
“That’s what I thought,” I say. “You’d have rolled your eyes. Called it a line. You did call it a line. Every time I’ve tried to be honest with you, you act like I’m setting a trap.”
“Because you are.” Her voice is too loud now, cracking. “You say things, and you look at me like, like I’m the only person in the room, and then you go back to being Troy Hawkins, everybody’s favorite guy.”
I step closer.
She scoffs, as she grips her handlebars. “You know what, I think you like the idea of me. You flirt, you charm, you send flirty little texts in front of a crowd—then what? Hook up with someone else the next night?”
My jaw tightens. “That’s not fair.”
“Oh, I’m not fair now?” She laughs bitterly. “You say you like me and then go sleep with half the campus—”
“I haven’t slept with anyone since I partnered up with you.”
That stops her cold.
The wind rushes past us in the silence.
“What?”
“I haven’t. I’ve not even kissed anyone.” I drag a hand through my hair. “Not because I can’t. Because I don’t want to.”
Her mouth opens and then closes again.
I keep going, because if I stop now, I won’t be able to start again.
“You think I’m a joke. That this is a joke.
That I’m some guy who flirts and gets what he wants and then moves on—fine.
That’s the version of me you want to believe in, go for it.
But that’s not the version standing in front of you right now and since we met, I haven’t done a damn thing to make you think otherwise. ”
She’s frozen. Defensive. Eyes flicking between mine like she’s waiting for the punchline.
“There is no one else,” I say, softer now.
“Troy—” Her voice catches.
I cut her off. “Do you know how fucking annoying it is? To want someone who doesn’t want anything from you? Not my smile, not my company, not my goddamn cooking—nothing.”
“Troy.”
“I told myself you were worth it.” I laugh, sharp and bitter.
“That maybe we could help each other heal or some shit. But it’s not that.
You get under my skin, Delilah. You stay there.
And I’m trying. I’m trying to play it cool, and give you space, and respect your walls, but every time you look at me like you wish I wasn’t there—God, it fucking kills me. ”
She’s breathing hard now, like she’s been running. Her eyes are glassy. Her lips parted. But she still hasn’t stepped back.
“I’m sorry I said it during the game,” I whisper. “It was cowardly. You’re right. But I’m not taking it back.”
She swallows.
“I like you, Delilah. A lot. And I don’t know what that means to you,” I say. “But it means something to me. I don’t say that without fucking meaning it.”
Her voice is barely a whisper. “Why are you doing this?”
I look at her. Messy hair, clenched jaw, eyes full of everything she’s too scared to let out.
“Because I can’t stop,” I say. “Because I’ve tried. And I failed. And now it’s just you.”
The air between us hums. Like we’re one breath away from something dangerous.
“It’s just a phase Troy. People think they like me, and then they get to know me and all my…shit and my messiness and then they leave.” She shakes her head. “Yeah fine, you might like me but likes change and I cannot do this with you.”
Fuck it. I might as well go all in.
“I think I might even be falling in love with you, Delilah.”