Page 43 of Sweetest Hate

"When I came here during Christmas break, you and your parents were supposed to come over, but you went somewhere with Quinn. But before you two left, we'd just finished eating, and I was helping Quinn with the dishes. From the window in front of the sink, I could see the side of your house. That night, you were on a ladder, fixing the Christmas lights."

"I remember." A few of the plastic hooks that had held the rope lights up had come loose, leaving part of the heavy strand hanging.

"Right. Well, I saw you then. When you were standing by the fire pit the first night we all arrived at the lake was only the first time I'd seen you up close."

Why was Arsen telling me this? I wasn't even sure it was something worth considering. I'd suspected Quinn had been trying to escape the situation that night, but Arsen's confession brought to light several questions I didn't know I had. Had his sudden last-minute insistence on attending the art gallery showing been a tactic to avoid the introduction? But that didn't make sense. I wasn't even sure what had prompted the idea.

"You're right. He didn't tell me," I replied, deep in contemplation about that night.

I began gathering my things and placing them in their designated spots within my art portfolio bag, still trying to decide if Quinn's omission had been on purpose. My mind was spinning with all the new information, and I needed to step away before it went any further.

"Where are you going?" Arsen asked, and a hint of disappointment colored his tone, leaving me with even more questions I wasn't ready to consider.

I cast him a brief smile. "To put this up and wash the paint off my fingers. That shit stains and takes forever to get off if I wait too long."

While that was true, it wasn't the only reason, and the firm line that formed between his lips told me he understood I needed the escape. Arsen didn't argue as he sat up, stood, and wiped his hands over his jeans, dusting away the debris left on the denim from the ground. "Catch you later."

Would he? Did I want him to? Of course, I did. I wasn't sure if the plan we'd made to spend the week in bed still stood now that we were back in Holloway. Though I had many questions I needed to answer myself, I knew one thing. I'd never wanted anyone the way I did Arsen, and I hoped that plan was still in place. It wasn't like I would straight-up ask, so I remained quiet as he walked back toward their house. After zipping up my bag, I slipped the straps over my shoulder and headed home.

Fifteen

Kellan

The humidityin the air was stifling as it approached midday, but I'd tagged along with my parents to the local outdoor farmers market to get out of the house for a while. To be honest, over the last several days, I'd almost clung to their plans like a baby koala, tagging along everywhere they went just so I could avoid Arsen. If that wasn't sad, I wasn't sure what was.

But the conversation under the stars while he watched me fall in love with the sky through paint… The things I'd revealed about myself… Arsen now held my hopes and dreams in his stack of cards to use against me if he decided to start acting like a dick again. But the thing was, somehow, I knew he wouldn't, which meant I'd accepted that Arsen was truly a decent person. Which also meant I was likely insane.

"Kellan, honey?" My mom's hand slid over my shoulder and squeezed. "Everything all right? You've been awful quiet since you got back."

"Leave the boy alone, Becca." My dad came to my rescue, tossing me a wink from where he stood behind her, picking through a crate of yellow and green varieties of summer squash from one of the many vegetable stands squished together under a red and white striped cloth awning.

She waved him off, not sparing him a glance as she looked up at me with concern. "Is it a girl? Did something happen on the trip?"

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I sighed as I pulled it out. "It's not a girl, Mom. I'm fine."

"You sure? You have 'the look' about you. George, doesn't he havethe look?" Lines formed on her forehead as she leaned in, her blue eyes searching mine for a lie. If she'd flip the gender, she'd have hit on something real. Arsen was messing with my head, and I hadn't seen him for days.

My dad scoffed. "Woman, leave him alone and come help me, or I'm going to grab all of the Pattypan squash because I know you don't like them."

Her eyes widened, and she whipped around to face him, hands on her hips. "Don't you dare. There are hungry kids everywhere. We are not taking food we won't eat."

As they bickered, or rather, while my dad goaded her into one of their weird flirty argument things, that were more like foreplay and awkward as fuck to be around, I checked my phone.

Unknown:You're avoiding me, little mouse.

I stiffened as I re-read the message. So much for avoiding him.

I glanced at my parents, who were in a tug of war with the wicker basket full of fruits and vegetables, which my mother would undoubtedly win because she was stubborn as a mule. While they were distracted, my fingers hovered over the keyboard before finally tapping out a response.

Me:How'd you get my number?

My parents began laughing, and several people, including me, stopped to watch the pair in their late forties who acted as if they were still in the honeymoon phase of their marriage.

Unknown:Your best friend happens to live in the house I'm staying in. He's a little careless and leaves his things lying around, including his phone.

I could picture the unapologetic expression on his face as he explained. Arsen had wanted to get ahold of me, so he had. Simple as that.

I saved his number.

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