Page 114 of The Roommate Lie

I scan the long row of tinted windows, but I can’t figure out where Alice is inside. All the people-shadows look the same. But I’m running out of time before the light turns green. So I guess any window will do.

Backing up, I glance at the shuttle bus, and it’s go time. I’m not sure what to say, but that’s never stopped me before.

“You can’t leave.”

That’s the only way to begin, the most important part. No matter what happens next, Alice can’t leave. I’ll miss her too much.

“I think I’m in love with you. We barely know each other, but you make every single thing better. It’s barely been a week, but I don’t know how I’m going to live without you.”

Nothing happens inside. There’s no movement in the shuttle bus, no signs of life. I hesitate, and my voice catches.

“Listen, I know I’m not good enough for you, not really. You could do so much better than a screwup like me. But if you stayed, Alice, if you took a chance on me—one chance—I promise you won’t regret it. I’ll make it feel like the right choice every single day.”

That’s all I can manage before time runs out. The stoplight turns green, and nothing else matters.

Mrs. Wexler starts to pull away, stone-faced. Before she can make it two inches, the bus erupts with screams and shouts. Cries ofstopandnoanddon’t you dare. Two voices shout loudest of all, and they travel toward the front of the vehicle like they’re running for the door.

The bus screeches to a halt. Once the door opens, it isn’t Alice who was making all that noise. It’s her sisters. Both ofthem are out of breath from yelling at Mrs. Wexler, and Emma holds up her phone like she’s been filming the whole thing.

Meanwhile, Nicki wipes tears from her eyes before smiling down at me. When she speaks, yelling over the rumble of car horns and traffic, she says the only words I want to hear. And they’re music to my ears.

“She’s at your house.”

Chapter Fifty-Nine

ALICE

I’m sitting on Charlie’s front steps, and I feel like an idiot. Where is he?

The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and his yard smells like lilacs—but everything else about this moment iswrong. This was supposed to be my grand gesture, my big romantic confession, but you need another person around for that. Someone to actually confess your feelings to.

Thanks to Charlie’s quick thinking, my phone has officially survived its raccoon-trap water bath, but it doesn’t matter. He hasn’t answered a single call or text, and I glance down at my screen for the thousandth time, ready to give up and call my parents in defeat. When I hesitate, I hear something in the distance. It sounds like thunder.

Footsteps.

Someone’s running down the sidewalk toward me. Fast. Their movements are so frantic, they’re either training for the Olympics or running from a bear. Before I can panic or hide, Charlie barrels into view.

He flings open the front gate and collapses on the grass before I can even get up, panting and wheezing. I think he mightneed a doctor. Hurrying toward him, I crouch down by his side, ready to do CPR breaths or chest compressions or read him his last rites—something.

When I lean to check his pulse, he pulls me closer, kissing me soundly. I laugh and pull away.

Well…I enjoy it a little first. Then I laugh and pull away.

“I made a whole speech,” he wheezes, “and it was a good one. But I think your sister recorded it. I’ll recite it to you again later.”

He threads his fingers in my hair as he kisses me again, but this time he’s the one who pulls away. “The short version is I love you. Will you stay?”

He loves me?

Those words spread through me, that sweet confession, even if I know he might change his mind. “I love you too, but…”

It’s time for the truth. I start to tell him Nicki’s eye condition is genetic, that there’s a small chance I might get it too, but he doesn’t let me finish.

Dragging me closer, he kisses me again. “I know,” he says gently.

He knows?

“I read about it after you told me what your sister had. And Nicki mentioned it too.”

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