Page 75 of A Sky Full Of Stars

Nothing has changed. It never does.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Lainey

After pulling into my parking garage, I stare at the scuffed concrete wall in front of me, my hands locked tight at ten and two, replaying the strange events of my night. When I called it quits with Heath, I had Thomas in the back of my mind, but I never expected to actually see him. Or for him to kiss me again. Or for me to let him.

Starting fresh felt like a loophole we shouldn’t have agreed to, but it’s hard to say no to anything Thomas says with his eyes boring into mine and the broken expression he thinks he’s hiding. And when it comes down to it, I need the escape as much as he does. I want to forget the past too.

Nothing about our night together was expected, and it probably shouldn’t have happened. But God, was it welcome. My lips still tingle from our kiss, and my skin still burns where his hand gripped my waist as we danced in the rain. Just being around him makes me feel like I’m sixteen again. Crushing on a boy I have no right to be crushing on. Desperate for him to see me. It makes me feel alive for the first time in a long time, and I can’t shake the sense that I shouldn’t be feeling that way.

I know he’s masking his feelings, but I can see right through his facade, and I’m hiding all the same. Shoving one’s problems to the side is my forte and I know firsthand how debilitating it can be. But instead of the knowledge pushing me away because he’s not being real, it’s drawing me in, making me want to dropeverything to take away his pain. He needs me, and in turn, I need him.

When I finally get into bed, I toss and turn all night, my mind refusing to still. By morning, I feel groggy when my alarm goes off, made worse when I hear Heath rummaging around in the kitchen, purposely being louder than he usually is.

Since it’s a Saturday, and Luke's team has a bye, I have nowhere to be, I hide away in my room until Heath’s gone, only rising when I hear the door slam and the silence take over. He’s not stupid. He knows I’m avoiding him, but I’m thankful he didn’t call me out on it.

My phone dings when I’m blitzing my morning smoothie, and I wait until I’ve taken my first sip to read it, smiling as I do.

Thomas: Thank you for last night. It was nice getting to know you again.

I picture him trying to be funny, but a frown quickly replaces my smile because as much as I love the laid-back, happy version of Thomas, I want him to trust me enough to talk to me. Through all the smiles, it’s impossible to miss the crease on his brow and the worry lines that mar his features. He may truly believe he’s okay, that he’s moving on, but he’s holding something back, maybe even from himself. Although, I guess, so am I.

Lainey: It was nice getting to know you too. But I do have a confession to make… I lied about something… I suck at bowling.

Thomas sends back a laughing emoji followed by a meme of a toddler trying to bowl, and with the way I laugh out loud,I’m grateful that Heath’s already left for the day, otherwise he’d be hitting me with questions. I don’t laugh like this. Ever. But Thomas brings out the best in me; he always has. If only he didn’t have the potential to bring out the worst.

If I truly expect him to be real, then I’m going to have to face some real truths myself. And I don’t know if I’m ready for that.

I don’t know if I’lleverbe ready for that.

***

Without work or football to keep me busy, my Saturday moves slower than normal, and I find myself with too much time on my hands, and time is a dangerous thing. After writing a paper for a class I have Thursday, I catch up on some reading but forget everything that happened the second I close the book. Next, I try watching reality TV, hoping I can pass the time drooling over million-dollar houses, but no matter what I do, it’s not enough to steady my mind. I hate to admit that’s where Heath came in handy. Whenever my thoughts roamed where they shouldn’t, I’d find Heath to shift my focus. But I can’t do that anymore. Nor do I want to.

After a small workout—nothing strenuous, but enough to make me sweat—I take a long, scalding hot shower and give myself a pep talk.

I don’t need to keep busy to be happy.

I am happy.

Life is good.

Only the second I step out of the steam, all that flies out the window as I stare at my reflection, my dancer’s body laughing back at me, always a constant reminder of where I came from, why I’m running.

I wish I could break this stupid discipline I’ve always had. What I wouldn’t give to binge eat my way through a dessert menu or spend the next month on the couch, never leaving theapartment, neverexercising. But I can’t do that because it’s so ingrained in me that I can’t seem to fight it, even though I don’t want that life anymore. Even though it hurts.

Running my hand through my fading dyed hair, a thought hits me, and I actually smile, knowing I’ve done at least one thing that deviates from the plan.

The first time I dyed my hair, it hadn’t been my decision. I’d been on the receiving end of a stupid prank at Jaiton, and at the time, it devastated me. But after that, I kept changing it. Not because I didn’t like my natural color, but rather, I did it to prove to myself that it didn’t matter. That I was my own person and could be whoever I wanted to be. All my life, I was told that I had to be perfect and the only way to be perfect was to be natural.

But pushing my body to the limits every dayisn’tnatural. Being perfectisn’tnatural. And I needed a change.

When I’m dressed in my signature yoga pants and loose-fitting tee, I throw myself onto the bed and spend the next hour scrolling through social media, searching for inspiration. I’ve just come across a gorgeous girl with stunning pink hair and a tattoo sleeve when a text appears at the top of my screen.

Thomas: Can I see you?

I don’t even think about it; the answer hits me instantly.Yes. Seeing Thomas is exactly what I want. What I need.

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