Chapter 20 #3
I vaguely remember asking him if he thought I was ugly earlier tonight. Why does that seem like it happened ages ago? The memory of saying those words feels strange, like they belong to an entirely different person.
“You didn’t,” I assure him. “I was just . . . too caught up in my head and insecure to understand what was happening. I guess I told myself I wasn’t your type and you were out of my league because it made it easier for me to cope with what had happened.
But then my ego also got in the way, so I mostly felt embarrassed. ”
Danny blinks a couple of times as if he were processing.
“It pains me to know you put yourself down when I should’ve tried harder.”
Guilt is in his expression, furrowing his brows and lips.
It seems like it was ages ago that we talked about The Incident.
Too much has changed in those hours. Crazy how time twists itself when your mind is operating in survival mode.
I don’t want to sit here and talk about the what ifs or consider what we should’ve done differently.
Reality is, we could’ve both done things extremely differently. There were a million opportunities for us to be honest with each other, yet we weren’t. Instead of facing our fears, we simply assumed the worst, allowed embarrassment and shame to govern us, and so lost time.
Valuable time we’re never going to get back.
Time we no longer have.
Time we keep wasting.
“Maybe,” I mumble. “Then again, I could’ve also tried harder to talk to you and discuss what happened, take accountability for kissing you.
What I’m trying to say here is that it doesn’t matter now, Danny.
We’re dying. I don’t want to spend our last moments thinking about everything we did wrong. We have to let it go.”
Danny’s chest inflates as he takes a deep breath.
“That’s the thing, I can’t let it go,” he says, shaking his head. “I can’t let it go because I was a fucking coward before.”
I frown, a bit lost by his sudden urge to think it was his fault.
“Danny, it’s okay.”
“No, it isn’t.” His Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps. He scratches the back of his neck, the nervous tic returning. “I’m screwing this up again.”
“I don’t . . . I don’t follow,” I confess, confusion twisting inside me.
Danny scrubs his forehead with his hand and sighs.
“Let me start over, please. I have to get this off my chest because I’m afraid you’ll die before I can get this out. And I need to say it.”
“Okay.”
“I wish we reconnected under different circumstances so I could properly tell you how much of a fool I’ve been.
I wish I hadn’t let fear take over whenever I wanted to message you so I could find a way back to you, because I messed up big time.
” There’s a pause in which he breathes. His thumb caresses my trembling chin, soothing the skin with his touch.
“When you kissed me that night, I felt so conflicted and ashamed, not just because you were drunk when you did it. I know that I appear confident and straightforward, but I’m just a stupid fool for you, one who can’t seem to say the right thing or make the correct move, so I just couldn’t think of a scenario where you’d want to kiss me without being intoxicated.
I thought you only kissed me because you were drunk, but I kissed you back because I was in love with you. ”
My breath hitches, stuck in my airways.
Because I was in love with you.
Danny was in love with me. I think back to the nights we would sit on the roof, sharing conversations when no one was there to see us.
All that time thinking he didn’t like me, while he was harboring love for me, and I never noticed.
Before all the hurt and heartache, he was in love with me.
Somehow, in the moments of deep conversations, inside jokes and stolen glances, he fell in love with the girl I used to be.
But the sad truth is I’m no longer that girl.
And not just because I live a different life on the other side of the country.
This world has broken me on levels I can’t even begin to describe, since long before tonight happened.
Loneliness and trauma carve deep scars into a person’s soul until there’s nothing left but scar tissue.
That’s how I feel. Like I’m damaged goods, unable to experience anything other than hurt and pain, creating walls with spikes on them to prevent the sharp world from harming me anymore.
Finding out he loved me for who I was hurts more than the gash on my arm.
He’ll never get the opportunity to see if he can love the woman I currently am, the bolter.
“You were?”
Danny doesn’t answer my question, his eyes unfocused.
“You left,” he whispers, sounding broken.
“I was so in love with you, and you slipped away from me before I got the chance to make things right. For the past year, I’ve told myself to move on and let go.
I buried my feelings deep until I no longer felt them, but then .
. .” His voice trails off, silence extending with his breaths.
“Then what?” I prompt, even though I’m unsure if I want to hear more about how he used to love me, and I left. He needs this more than I do.
If this is the peace of mind he desperately needs before dying, then I can handle the hurt and discomfort.
I’d do anything for him.
His gaze wanders over my face as if he’s trying to soak in every detail before focusing on my eyes.
“Then I saw you today and everything came rushing back to me. I fell in love with the girl I knew and fell even harder for the woman you are now. I’m still in love with you—deeply, madly in love with you.”
Everything stops. My heartbeat, the oxygen flowing in my lungs, the blood rushing in my veins. I lose all sensation along my skin as the words echo in my brain, repeating the confession over and over again until my body no longer vibrates with emotion, and I can speak without shattering into tears.
It’s my turn to confess.
“When I left Westbrook, I told myself just about every lie in the book so I could move on, but nothing worked. It felt like a chapter I couldn’t finish, no matter how hard I tried.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned today, after everything we’ve been through, it’s that I couldn’t move on because I love you, Daniel Singh. ”
“I love you,” he repeats, squeezing my hand as he says each word.
Realization slams into me like a massive wave of emotions flooding my chest.
Three words.
I love you.
Three squeezes.
I . . . love . . . you.
My heart flutters as I finally understand what he’s been confessing all night, silently telling me he loves me while I thought he was simply comforting me.
Unable to utter more words, I put a hand on the back of his neck and pull him into me, pressing my mouth on his. Danny melts into my embrace, kissing me back and moaning as I bury my fingers in his hair.
“I hate that we lost so much time,” he mumbles against my lips.
I sigh and press my forehead against his.
“Honestly, how dramatic of us to wait to admit our feelings until literal death is knocking on our door,” I say to lighten the mood before we get lost in that spiral.
Thinking about the time we’ve wasted is too depressing to think about right now.
Danny snorts.
“At least we got to say it,” he says. “I can’t even imagine what I would’ve done if something had happened to you before I could say it—”
I press my fingers over his lips. “Shh, we said it. That’s all that matters.”
“We did,” he agrees.
His arm wraps around my shoulders and gently, making sure he’s not hurting my arm, he pulls me closer to him. His hug is warm as the temperature drops a degree or two. I welcome it, resting my head on his chest where I can hear the steady beat of his heart, finding comfort in it.
In the silence that covers us, I take the opportunity to look at the interior of the freezer, now that we have the phone’s flashlight on. The metal shelves are full of different boxes and packages, frozen food for the frat guys.
“I can’t believe Theta has a fucking walk-in freezer,” I comment.
Laughter rumbles in Danny’s chest.
“Fucking rich people.”
“They’re fucking insane. How much money did they spend here?”
Danny hums. “A lot more than we could ever afford. It’s pocket change to their rich daddies, though.”
“Ugh, you’re so right.”
With the tips of his fingers, Danny begins to draw an invisible path down my back.
When he reaches the end of my shirt, he climbs back, never touching the sliver of skin between my shirt and pants.
Each caress sends shivers down my spine, making my hair stand on end.
It’s such an intimate thing, sitting here huddled together, enjoying our last hours together, soaking in every touch and caress.
“Mabel?”
“Hmm?”
“What part of the horror movie would this be?”
His question is interesting, although I can’t pretend it’s something that hasn’t crossed my mind this evening. I’ve kept drawing parallels between the events of the massacre and my horror knowledge.
“Near the end of the second act,” I respond. “Moments away from the climax, when everything is still for a second before the shit hits the fan with the killer reveal. It’s shitty I won’t be there for that moment.”
“Do you have any theories about who it might be?”
I shake my head.
“Not anymore. I thought it was Shane, that shady guy from the party, the one who was also here, but while he turned out to be a creep regardless, he wasn’t the killer. I saw Cupid kill him.”
“Well, shit. I was hoping you had some idea.”
A chuckle bubbles out of me.
“Trusting me as a horror connoisseur to know who the killer is?”
“Of course. If you can’t figure it out, there’s no hope for the rest of the casuals like me.”
His humor lightens the mood, softening my tense muscles.
“I think Cerys is the final girl,” I confess, and I feel his body clam up around me. “I didn’t want to say it in the bathroom, but I believe the killer is doing it for her.”
“For her?”
I wince.
“Maybe not for her now, but it started out that way. If it began with Brian’s body, the killer empathized with her in some way.”
“Why do you say so?”
“He wrote rapist on Brian’s chest. Left him there for everyone in Greek Row to see,” I remind him.
“Don’t take my word on this, but I think maybe the killer did it for her at the beginning, but then it didn’t turn out how he expected.
Maybe she didn’t give him the attention he wanted, so now he’s punishing her. ”
Danny takes a second to respond.
“That’s fucked-up,” he whispers.
“I just hope Carmen manages to survive. There’s always two or three characters that survive the story, and since that won’t be us, I hope it’s them,” I say.
“I hope they make it out too.”
This time, since I can’t reach his hands from this position, I settle for squeezing his thigh three times.
His fingers stop caressing my back, and I raise my head from his chest to look at him for a second before I drop to his mouth.
The bow of his lips draws me in like a moth to a flame, and before I can stop myself, I kiss him.
Danny returns the kiss immediately, as if his brain is wired to respond to my lips the instant they make contact. His soft mouth becomes ambrosia for me. I shouldn’t be greedy, but I grow desperate for more of him, slipping the tip of my tongue in his parted mouth.
He groans as his tongue plays with mine, licking the tip before he sucks on it, eliciting a moan from me.
I arch my back to press my chest closer to him.
Getting bold, I shift our position and straddle him, hips rocking ever so slightly as the pressure in my lower abdomen begins to boil, spreading a wave of desire through my body.
Laying his hand on my lower back, he pulls me tighter to him.
It’s not enough.
Raw greed thaws in me, turning me into a needy woman.
However, Danny doesn’t seem to mind as he hoists me closer so I can get better access to him. I’m shaking on top of him as I lower myself onto the front of his pants, feeling the bulge growing under his clothes.
I gasp loudly when I feel it pulse against my core, and I pull away to meet his eyes.
There’s a playful glint in them.
“Since we’re going to die,” he comments lightheartedly, “is having sex still considered a horror-movie sin?”