Page 80 of Drown in You

Juliet’s screen displays an article featuring a photo of a devastatingly handsome man with brown hair and serious green eyes in a red-and-black Devils jersey.

I nudge her. “What are you doing?”

“Reading an article about Trey Lamont.”

“That guy who got kicked off campus for trying to kill Wes?”

She nods, her curtain of red-streaked black hair nearly covering her face. “That’s the one.”

“Tell me you’re not developing some morbid fascination with him. He hurt Violet, remember?” I cringe. I don’t even want to think about the hell Trey Lamont put our friend through. And Wes.

“I know that. What he did is awful. But...I don’t know. I think there’s more to the story.”

I roll my eyes. “What’s that paraphilia for people who are sexually attracted to criminals?”

“Hybristophilia. And yes, I know I have it.”

“At least you’re self-aware.”

While Juliet continues reading about the new object of her obsession, I check my phone.

No notifications. Guilt hits me like a wave as I realize I’ve forgotten to text Ten for a few days. Forgotten. I haven’t forgotten about him since I got here. Since we met online all those years ago.

Luke told me to forget about Ten, and I’m starting to.

Maybe he wants me to forget, to move on so he doesn’t have to come clean if he really is the man behind the mask. But I told Ten I wouldn’t give up on him. My dad didn’t give up on me when his texts went unanswered for months, and now our relationship is better than ever. I won’t give up on Ten.

Instead of scrolling to our texts, I open the email browser on my laptop. I haven’t sent Ten an email in forever. We reserved those for the lengthy messages we sent each other, the long-winded updates and incoherent two a.m. ramblings that were too much for a text. The emails were special. We texted everyone, but we only ever sent those letters to each other.

I chew on my lip, trying to figure out what the hell to say. If Luke and Ten are the same person, I need to convince him to finally open up to me.

Dear Ten,

Apparently, I attend hockey games now. Can you believe it? The girl who hates sports, sitting in a hockey jersey at a college game and cheering for the team. I can send you a picture if you need proof.

Did I ever tell you how I imagined cheering for you at your games? I’d be the loudest person in the bleachers. I hoped that even if your dad couldn’t cheer for you, it would help, knowing someone out there is cheering for you so loud, their throat is raw after. I probably wouldn’t even be able to talk, but it would be worth it if it helped you play. If it made you happy.

Even more news: my dad and I talked. About how he left after the divorce. I know. Shocker, right? I thought you’d want to know, since you helped me through all of that. I feel better about our relationship now. A lot better. He’s really trying, and he feels bad for what he put me and my mom through. I’m still trying to figure out how to fully forgive him and fix our relationship. Maybe it’ll always be a challenge, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth trying.

I told you about Luke, right? My new stepbrother. He actually helped me gain the courage to be honest. To confront people when I need to. I’m still learning, but I’m getting better. I think you two would really get along. You’re actually a lot alike. You both like hockey, you both lost your dads, and you have the same sense of humor. He’s kind of been my rock lately, like you always have been.

I hope you’re doing okay. Whatever you’re going through right now, I’m here for you when you’re ready.

Love,

Sienna

With a deep breath, I hit Send. Maybe this will be what finally gets a response from Ten. What finally gets Luke to confess to the truth, especially after I confided in him the other night. I don’t want there to be any more secrets between us, and I won’t be fully convinced he and Ten are the same person until I get confirmation. After Luke explains himself and I forgive him for ghosting me and opening up old wounds, we can be closer than ever. Closer than I ever thought possible before it occurred to me that he could be one of my favorite people in the world.

I snap my laptop shut. “I’m going to drop my stuff off at the dorm, and then I’ll meet you at the Village.”

Juliet nods, but her eyes are glued to the image of Trey Lamont on her phone screen. I swear she’s already infatuated.

Outside, spring is finally blooming. Tufts of grass pop up among the barren ground and small buds of leaves bloom on this quiet, abandoned side of campus.

As I pass the sparse end of the parking lot, a horn beeps. I jump, and I’m about to flip off the driver until I spot the lone car.

A red Cadillac.

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