Page 80 of Learning Curve

“Are you in or out?”

My voice is a fraction of itself as I force the words out. “Finn, can I talk to you?”

Julia’s eyes are wide as Ace and Blake drag her away to their assigned table, and Finn’s jaw grinds.

“In or out, dude?” Connor prompts again, agitated even more.

Finn’s chest expands. “Out.”

My knees threaten to give out and take me to the floor, the relief is so strong. Day and night, I think about Finn and all the things I want to say. Day and night, I’ve dreamed about the chance to clear the air.

Day and night for three weeks. I’m exhausted.

My bottom lip quivers as Finn jerks his head away from the tables toward the depths of the rest of the basement. I follow him into both quiet and darkness, the sound of my breathing like a hyena at a funeral—completely giving me away.

We make a right into the Dickson Archives, a stacked section of dusty books that smell like they haven’t been touched in ages. Finn leans back against one of the shelves, crossing his arms over his chest, and I run my hands through my hair, trying to work up the courage to lay it all on the line.

The silence is almost unbearably heavy.

“I’m sorry,” I say, the apology splintering the anticipation like a bullet to the heart.

I can tell by the firm set of his jaw and the shine of his eyes, he’s right back in my room, naked and vulnerable and learning of my betrayal all over again, but I’m back there too. Hurting and desperate to make things right.

“I know that sounds hollow and trite and like some kind of fucked-up excuse at this point, but I swear, Finn, I’ll be sorry about this for the rest of my life.”

“I know you’re sorry, Scottie. I saw your texts, I got your notes. I know you’re sorry.”

The knot in my stomach tenses as I force myself to confirm. “You know I’m sorry, but you’re still avoiding me.”

“Yes.”

“Why?” The word is as broken as I feel. If he knows I’m genuinely sorry, why can’t he forgive me?

“Because it doesn’t change anything.”

Righteous indignation makes my temper flare. All this time, all this heartache, everything we’ve been through and overcome, and that’s all he has to say? “Wow, Finn.”

His face ticks. “Don’t go playing the victim just because you don’t like what I have to say, Scottie. You wronged me. Not the other way around.”

“I’m not saying I’m the victim,” I refute, steeling my spine to ready myself to fight. I knew this conversation wasn’t going to be easy. I hoped it would be, but deep down, I knew it wouldn’t. “But I deserve the chance to speak my piece. To explain. To lay it all out there. Don’t I?”

He holds out a dramatic hand. “Fine. Lay it all out there, then. Tell me what happened the day you took my property and kept it to yourself. Tell me what happened when you took me back to your room and begged me to take your virginity, knowing what it meant to me because I told you. Tell me, Scottie. I want to know.”

The recap of all my poor choices falling from his beautiful lips sounds even more awful than I could have imagined, but I won’t miss the invitation to explain, sarcastic or not.

“I saw you were upset that day in class—and not just a little bit. You looked like you were dying, burning alive from the inside out.” He looks down to the floor and licks his lips as I continue. “I was…I was concerned. I know we were still a mess at that point, but Finn, I care about you. I did then and I do now, and I won’t apologize for that. But the way I handled it… I know.” I nod, my voice shaking. “I know I did a terrible job. All I wanted was a little insight into what was bothering you so I could help, but when I picked up the paper, Professor Winslow walked in, and I knew I couldn’t put it back down. So, I panicked, and I took it.”

“And read it.”

“Of course,” I admit with a shrug. “I wanted to understand you.”

He shakes his head and shoves away from the shelf, but I grab his elbow and press on. “I knew when I read it how much I’d messed up, and I don’t deny that. It wasn’t any of my business, and it still isn’t. I know that.”

“And yet, here you are, bringing it up again.”

I lick my lips and wipe angrily at the stupid tears that have managed to escape. “Because I want to fix it. Because I love you. Because when I begged you to sleep with me that night, it’s because I wanted to be with you. Not because of the stupid mistake. Not because—”

He pulls away from my grip, his voice breaking as he gets close enough to me that I can smell him. His voice is raw and almost eerily quiet. “I loved you too, Scottie, pure and simple. But all the love I’ve ever known has been fucked up, and now, this love is too.”

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