7. now
now
Everything is fine.
I repeat this to myself on a loop, until it’s the only thought in my dizzy little skull. Hayden is talking to me—I’m sure of it—but I haven’t heard a word she’s said. Her head is rested against my shoulder, and her voice is nothing more than a dull murmur amongst the pulsing music.
Derek’s house isn’t far from Luther’s. With a handful of people we met at the bar, we’d walked the half-mile here. Despite it being a football house, the turnout started off chill. It was Derek, some teammates and a few women. I’d been tipsy by the time we arrived, but I’d also been on high-alert.
Once we did a loop to confirm Atlas wasn’t here, Hayden took an edible and deflated into the worn leather couch. We’ve been here ever since. I’m slumped into the soft cushions, head spinning from our latest shot. Our arms stick together with sweat.
I don’t know how much time passes like this. Derek brings wine coolers for me and Hayden, and I debate how much longer I should wait before our platypus needs to be fed. I’m still considering when the front door opens and a group of men enter the room.
Three tall and lean, one short and muscular, all irritatingly good-looking. None more so than the tallest at the center.
Atlas Blake. My Atlas Blake. Not to be confused with the name doppelg?nger I hoped existed, all the way up until this moment.
He doesn’t see me right away. He’s in the kitchen, beer already in hand. I don’t recognize the men he’s with, but I’d guess they’re all swimmers. The four of them chat with Derek, long enough that the woman he’s talking to gets bored and drifts back to the living room.
“I thought you told Derek not to invite him,” I snap, twisting to face Hayden.
She blinks slowly at me, eyebrows creased. It’s not until I’ve spoken that I realize my error. Because I should have no idea who that man is.
I look back at Atlas. He laughs at something Derek says, then takes a long drink from his beer. I watch his throat, momentarily paralyzed with fascination.
“That’s him.” Hayden straightens slightly, bumping into me as she points at Atlas. She’s too inebriated to realize my slip, but it doesn’t matter. “That’s Atlas. Your soulmate.”
I should have told her before this happened, but I’d been so hopeful it wouldn’t. Now, I realize this was inevitable. If not at this party, then another. If not a party, then in the cafeteria or the nearby walking trail or between classes.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt. I twist toward her, grabbing her face with both hands. My head spins at the movement, and I wish more than anything I was sober right now. Sober Violet could handle this situation much, much better than drunk Violet. “I hoped it was someone else.”
“What’re you—”
She cuts off, eyes widening as she looks past me, up at the man who’s suddenly standing above us.
“Violet.” It’s him. With that seductively deep voice, that demanding presence.
He’s so tall, and from this angle, he looks big enough to consume me. He stares down at us—no, at me—green eyes bright but unreadable. There’s too much in his expression, so raw I can hardly stand to look at him.
“Wait, do you two know each other?” Hayden asks, a giggle bursting from her.
“Yeah. This is, uh, this is Jonathan.” I gesture meekly toward Atlas, and though I’m sure he’s confused, I don’t explain anything more.
“Oh.” Hayden’s brows lift, and her lips part. She looks at Atlas for a long, unwavering moment.
“Can I talk to you?” Atlas asks. “I know this is—”
“Leave me alone, Atlas. I have nothing to say to you.” I lurch off the couch and hold my hand toward Hayden. “Let’s dance.”
Because I’m sure as hell not going to run away from Atlas again, not like I did at Phoebe’s wedding. If he thought he could ruin my life by showing up at my new college, he’s sorely mistaken.
“I…” She trails off, turning away from Atlas. She looks at my outstretched palm, then shakes her head abruptly. “I have to go.”
“Okay we can—”
“No, no. Just me.”
Before I say another word, she takes off, leaving me with the boy I can’t seem to leave behind.
“Hayden!” I scream. My lungs hurt. I’m too out of shape for this.
I used to play tennis in high school, but it’s been a couple years and I can’t remember the last time I ran this far.
Actually, I guess I do. I ran from Phoebe’s wedding, and I don’t miss the irony that I’m running from Atlas for the second time in a month.
Unlike me, Hayden takes care of herself. She eats healthy (for the most part) and exercises regularly (as in, once a day, regularly). Even drunk and high out of her mind, she’s managed to keep a block or more of distance between us.
“God, stop running!” Forget being out of shape, I’m too drunk for this. I carry my shoes in one hand and I’m using the other to steady myself as I run. The world shifts chaotically around me. “I’m going to trip and fall…and then I’ll die…and you’ll never…forgive…yourself…”
I slow my steps, clutching at my side.
“We’ll have to talk at the house anyway!” I lean forward and suck in deep breaths. “You should just—”
“Fucking shit!”
I look up from the sidewalk to see Hayden sprawled across the pavement. She’s a block ahead of me, but she’s now belly-flopped on the asphalt. I start jogging again, one hand on my side. By the time I reach her, she’s on her ass, inspecting her bloodied knee.
“Jesus.” I sway as I sit down beside her, nearly missing the curb. “Are you okay?”
Hayden doesn’t answer me. Instead she pokes at her hairline, then pulls back to inspect her fingers.
“It’s not bleeding.” I lean my elbows on my knees, breathing hard. I kick the side of her foot. “What the hell was that about?”
She huffs out a breath, but she doesn’t answer. She just glares up at the sky, her eyes becoming glossier with each blink.
“Is this because I lied about Atlas’s name?” I follow her gaze up to the stars. “It’s kind of a long story. I would’ve told you earlier, but I didn’t think it was a big deal. I mean, really, it’s not a big deal—”
“He’s in love with you.” She looks at me, eyes hardening. “You failed to mention that in all your stories.”
“He’s not in love with me.” I let out a slow breath. “Even if he was, it wouldn’t matter. What he did…I could never forgive him.”
Something flashes across her expression, gone too quickly for me to make sense of it. She flattens her lips, eyes returning to the sky.
“You never told me what happened between you two. Not really.” Hayden unstraps her heels as she talks.
“I forgot you were wearing those.” I nod toward her dangerously high stilettos. “I’m impressed you made it as far as you did.”
“I’m lucky I didn’t break an ankle. Webber would kill me, especially if she found out I was high.
I’m not supposed to smoke during the season.
” Hayden tosses the shoes into the grass beside her.
She rubs one ankle, then the other. Then she flops onto her back, spreading her arms out on either side of her.
“Is the subject change your way of saying you don’t want to talk about it? ”
“What happened with Altas is complicated,” I say slowly.
When I lay in the spot beside Hayden, the grass is prickly and wet—the sprinklers must have gone off.
I search the sky for constellations, but it all looks like a mess of pinprick lights to me.
“Most of the time, I like to pretend it didn’t happen. ”
“You don’t have to tell me anything.” Hayden’s voice softens. “I just assumed he was a complete dick who broke your heart. Cheated on you or mistreated you, and I guess maybe he did, but that wasn’t the vibe I got.”
“You’re too perceptive.” I purse my lips. “He didn’t do anything like that, but he did break my heart. Just to be clear.”
“For what it’s worth, he regrets it. I could tell.”
“No, he doesn’t.” I close my eyes. “That was one of the things he said at his sister’s wedding. He’s not sorry. He doesn’t care.”
Hayden doesn’t respond to that. She only sighs again, and for several minutes, we lie in the quiet. Somewhere nearby, people are laughing. Two streets down, cars zip along Main Street. If I strain my ears hard enough, I think I can hear the thrumming base from Derek’s house.
Eventually, Hayden sits up. Her unscathed knee brushes against mine, and she taps my elbow, as if urging me to get up. I don’t. I spread my arms out, just as she had.
“I don’t know why he’s here.” My voice is a pathetic whisper. “He’s supposed to be in Montana.”
“Do you think he’s here because of you?”
“I doubt it.” I shrug. “Still sucks. I’m going to see him everywhere. And he’s so…”
“Hot?” Hayden suggests, and I can almost hear her smile.
“Don’t remind me.” I open my eyes, just to glare at her.
“You should talk to him.” Her voice lowers to a whisper. “Maybe if you did, he could fix whatever went down between you two.”
I sit up, then stand. I can feel Hayden’s gaze on me, but I don’t meet it. I only offer her my hand, pulling her up once she takes it.
“Some things can’t be fixed.”
“Yeah, I know.” She makes a strange sound, and when I look over, I’m shocked to see she’s crying. Slow, silent tears stream down her cheeks.
“You haven’t told me why you took off.” I squeeze her fingers. “Was it because I lied?”
Hayden laughs. She wipes her face with the back of her knuckles, looking more angry than sad now. She gives me a tight-lipped smile, so forced it seems painful.
“No, it wasn’t that. It was just…familiar, that’s all.” She drops my hand and starts walking in the direction of our house. I match her pace, and we walk, carrying our shoes between us. “The look on his face. The guilt.”
“Some asshole broke your heart too?” I say it like a joke, desperate to ease the unpleasant tension, as if my heart isn’t truly and completely broken. As if I’m not a little haunted by the look on Atlas’s face too.
“No, I’m the asshole in my story.” Hayden stares blankly ahead. “I know what it’s like to look at the person you love most and know you’ve done irreparable damage.”
“I don’t believe that at all.” I try to grab her hand again, but she only shakes her head, stepping farther away. “Hayden, you’re not an asshole. Whatever you’ve done—”
“It can’t be fixed. Ever.” She clears her throat roughly. “I can’t talk about it anymore. And to be clear, I’m completely on board with hating Atlas if that’s what you want. I was just thrown in the moment. That’s all.”
Tell me, I want to beg. Tell me what you hate about yourself, and I’ll tell you why you’re wrong.
But I’m a hypocrite. I’ve told Hayden the bare minimum about Atlas. I never told her how serious our relationship once felt. I didn’t tell her that he was the only boy I’ve ever loved. And I definitely didn’t tell her how he betrayed me, ruined my life, all because he could.