“You better get back over there so you can throw your hat.”
Last time we spoke to each other, she promised not to leave, but she did. I’m not taking any chances. She might as well file a restraining order because I’m not letting her out of my sight. I grin and tug her to me with Mel, Jaime, Via, and Bailey still around us. I squeeze her in a hug.
“Keep your embrace PG-13,” Jaime coughs into his fist, and we both laugh.
The last thing I tell her before she pulls away is the truest thing I’ve ever said in my life.
“I missed you.”
Dinner is surreal.
Everyone exists like nothing happened, which can’t be further from the truth. I high-key channel my inner Ted Bundy and stare at Daria the entire time and ponder the probability of Mel, Jaime, Bailey, and Via disappearing into thin air without notice. Shit’s happened before. Mainly in paranormal movies, but still.
I watch the way Daria cuts her steak into pieces as though she invented utensils. Admire the way she steals glances at me to see if I’m still looking (I’m always looking), and how she pats the corners of her mouth with a napkin.
I watch everything. I eat nothing. They discuss the weather and town gossip when I ask Daria where she’s been.
“Where do you live?” I’m aware of the crackling in my voice, but I left my pride at the door.
She looks up at me from her plate and smiles but doesn’t say anything. I don’t ask again.
The Followhills pay the check and pour out back to the street, stopping in front of Jaime’s Tesla. I came here with the Prius because I had to get to school before them. I catch Daria’s cardigan sleeve and clear my throat.
“Need a ride?”
Everyone goes silent for a moment. Daria throws a look at her parents, asking a question, and Jaime arches an eyebrow.
“Rephrase, kiddo.”
“I apologize. Sir. Miss Followhill, will you do me the honor of getting into my cart? I have a hella big sword…”
Jaime chucks my head and laughs. He pushes an uncertain Daria toward me.
“Go. Talk. Fight. Blame your parents for everything. But when you’re back home, I don’t want any drama under my roof.”
And just like that, she’s in my car. As I throw it into drive, it occurs to me that she hasn’t been here before. I never took her places. I never made an effort, period. I took the sea glass necklace, then her virginity, then taunted her about both before completely dumping her upon Via’s request. Throughout, she thought I was messing around with Adriana. But I’ve never messed with Addy. By the time I noticed she was a woman, Rhett did, too, and did something about it.
Rhett. That’s a conversation starter.
“Rhett’s dead,” I say evenly as she chokes on her own saliva, coughing. I don’t twist to look at her as I pat her back. I know exactly where I’m driving. Far away from here and to the only place I need to fix in her memory so she’ll remember why we should still be together.
“What happened?”
“Overdose.”
“That’s sad.”
“No, it’s not.” He was a rapist abuser who has beaten my entire family to a pulp, then proceeded to impregnate a young teenager.
Daria sniffs. “You’re right. It’s not. How’d you find out?”
“About three months ago, he started calling. Slurring about getting a retroactive payment for all the time I lived with him. He was trying to make your parents bleed money or something. Wanted to cut a deal with Jaime where they split my earnings if I made it to the NFL. By the time Jaime sent his lawyers to threaten Rhett, he didn’t pick up the phone or answer the letters. So we went in person. His body stunk, but I guess you could say that about him even when he was alive.”
I can’t believe she is smiling at my stupid words, and I can’t believe I’m saying them. I park outside Castle Hill Park and kill the engine. I round the car and open her door, drawing her outside, then we both walk in silence. Passing the bench where Adriana and I sat the day she watched us from across the park, I lead her deep into the woods. We don’t stop or talk until we get to the broken tree trunk that’s still there. To where we had sex the first time.
I lean against the trunk and cross my arms over my chest.
“You promised,” I say quietly. Sometime between the graduation ceremony and entering the restaurant, I took off the blood cape, and now she can clearly see my black shirt, and the hole inside it, and how not okay I am.
She nods, her hand diving into her hair as she massages the back of her skull.
“I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
She doesn’t give me an excuse, which is a good start, but I don’t know what the fuck that means.
“If you want to hear the second part of my secret, you have to promise me something.”
“And what is that?”
“Yourself,” I say quietly. “You were right, that day you told me you were trying to be mine but I never offered you myself. But now I am. And if you want my everything, you need to give me something. Let’s start with a promise. A real one, this time.”
She eyes me warily, and I consider the possibility that when she told me she wanted to talk, she meant for some closure or bullshit. I hold my breath in my lungs.
“I promise,” comes the weakest, faintest voice I’ve ever heard. “I promise I am strong and good enough for you, and I want the rest of your secret. I want all your secrets. This past semester was horrible without you. How did I ever even live without you in my life? Bizarre.” She rolls her eyes.
I look up and almost fall to my knees with joy.
This.
I take out the sea glass necklace I’ve been keeping for her, just in case, and throw it between us. She catches it.
“Do you want me to put my necklace on?” She cocks her brow.
Pushing off the trunk, I walk toward her, take the necklace from her palm, and secure it back on her neck.
“Where did we leave things off with my secret?”
“First, I want you to tell me you haven’t slept with anyone else since I’ve been gone.” She turns her head around to face me, her body still tilted toward the trunk.
“I haven’t even held another’s hand. Even when I jacked off—it was to you. Hell, even my morning woods belonged to you.”
She laughs, shaking her head. I missed her voice. Her laughter. Her.
“Thank you. Well, we left things off with your grandmother cursing you when you tore your shirt. What was the curse about?”
“Eh.” I take a moment to close my eyes and savor the scent of her hair. “So my grandmother is pissed, and she wants me to behave. She tells me that the only way to remove this spell, curse, whatever the hell it is, is for me to fall in love. That’s some Beauty and the Beast bullshit, and I don’t buy into it, but I’m thinking, even at five, that that’s okay. I can fall in love a thousand times in an hour. Maybe not at five, but at thirteen or fourteen, sure. So of course, she puts a loophole.”
I snort when I think about the first time I met Daria up close, after seeing her in and out of her ballet class for years.
“What’s the loophole?” She turns around and holds my shoulders.
Escalation.