Page 101 of Maybe You

I wake up the next morning, groggy and exhausted on account of having stayed up almost until dawn, overthinking the choices that brought me to this moment.

When I open my eyes, the other side of the bed is empty. I’m not disappointed. I’m not. Of course he didn’t stay. What the hell was I expecting? Besides, it’s good practice. I can’t get used to having him around. I’ve already been acting like an idiot, so I am not going to delve any further into the complete, shitty mess I’ve already made of things.

I sigh and contemplate life a little while longer before I drag myself to the bathroom and take an ice-cold shower to get my head back on straight.

It doesn’t really help, so now I’m just cold.

I get back to my bedroom to find a sweatshirt, and there, right there on my dresser is Sutton’s hoodie from last night. My heart gives a treacherous bang.

It doesn’t mean anything, my brain points out reasonably. He probably just forgot it here when he snuck out earlier.

Shut up, brain! My heart starts beating in an excited staccato. It’s a clear sign we’re meant to be!

I rub my hand over my face and stare at the hoodie.

You, Wren Mills, are a fucking idiot.

And to really, properly underline just how true that last statement is, I pick the hoodie up, lift it to my nose, and inhale deeply.

After that, I put the hoodie down decisively and go downstairs. There’s thumping music sounding from behind Theo’s door, the kitchen is empty, and a glance at the schedule on the wall tells me Jordan’s left for his shift already.

I open the fridge and peer inside, but nothing looks appetizing, so I forgo that mission. I look around, trying to figure out what to do with myself now, when I hear faint voices from somewhere.

I round the corner to find the door to Remy’s workshop ajar.

I head that way, my heart beating excitedly with every step I take.

That.

That is a problem.

I stop right next to the door, intent on lecturing myself to act normal.

“Hand me that screwdriver,” Remy says. There’s a clatter and a second of silence. “The hex,” he says.

I smile to myself. Leave it to Remy to rope somebody into the role of an assistant that quickly devolves into a lesson about whatever he was working on at any given time. I’ve spent countless hours in Remy’s workshop, handing him tools, learning how to solder, rewire, tighten clips, replace circuit boards, and so on and so on. Since Kira spent most of her time with Jordan, Remy’s house was almost like a second home anyway.

I start to head down the short flight of stairs that leads to Remy’s sanctuary, but his voice stops me.

“So. You and Wren,” Remy says.

There’s a beat of silence.

“There’s no me and Wren.”

My stomach plummets, and it’s suddenly very hard to swallow.

“No need to get defensive,” Remy says, calm and almost sounding absent. “And no need to lie.”

Silence falls again. I take a deep breath.

Act normal.

Act normal.

Act. Normal.

“He’s remarkable,” Remy says. “But you probably already know that.”

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