“Sawyer?”
“Quinn?”
“Hey.”
“Hey? That’s what you’re going with?Hey?”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Um, okay. I’ll start, then. Why the fuck is there a video online of you fooling around with my sister? My sister who fucking hates your guts?”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Oh. Okay. Thatwasn’tmy sister walking around in a bra in a convention center in Las Vegas? Thatwasn’tyour tongue down Parker’s throat in a-a…whatwasthat? A fucking phone booth? Oh, and hey! Thatwasn’tyou muscling your way into her room?”
“First of all. Rick-fucking-Jones spilled coffee on her shirt, burned her, gave her his shirt, and she was returning it to him.” When Sawyer doesn’t say anything, I keep talking. “And I didn’t enter her room that night! The first night, she came to my room, but the second—”
“Why was my sister inyourroom, Quinn? She hates you!”
“I don’t think she hates me anymore,” I tell him, flashing back to this morning. “I actually think…”
“What? You thinkwhat, you piece of shit? This better be good!”
“I think she might love me as much as I love her,” I confess, blinking my burning eyes rapidly. I gulp over the lump in my throat, remembering her face an hour ago when we were intimately connected—when we were one, in every way possible, and so fucking beautiful—
“Okay. Um. Are you on drugs?”
“No!”
“Have you started drinking in the morning?”
“No.”
“THEN ARE YOU FUCKING DELUSIONAL? PARKER HATES YOU. ALWAYS HAS. ALWAYS WILL. And just in case you forgot…YOU HATE HER BACK!”
I can hear the frustration, confusion, and hurt in my best friend’s voice, and I wish I was explaining all of this better. I wish I was sitting across from him, although that wouldn’t be good either. He’d be whaling on me, and that’s a fact. I’m lucky there are a handful of states between us.
“I haveneverhated Parker,” I say, starting at the beginning. “Teased her? Yes. Pranked her? Yes. But I never, ever hated her. Sawyer, you’ve got to believe me because this is the truth. I’ve been in love with your sister since we were in fifth grade.”
“Oh yeah?” he says, laughing humorlessly. “Well that’s news to me and my entire fucking family.” He pauses. “You better watch your back when you get home. Tanner’s ready to pound you into the pavement. And I’ve got half a mind to give him a hand. And just wait ’till Hunter comes home in May—”
“Bring it on!” I yell, at the end of my rope. “Go ahead! Fucking beat me bloody for loving Parker. Good. Go ahead. It’ll feel way better than how I feel right now!”
There’s a long silence before Sawyer speaks again, and when he does, he’s a lot calmer. “Okay. Quinn, I’m gonna sit down for a few minutes, and I want you to start at the beginning and explain this to me. I’m not gonna interrupt. I’m just gonna listen.”
I take a deep breath and let it go slowly, beginning at the beginning, when we were in fifth grade and Sawyer’s slightly older sister caught my eyes after my ancestry presentation, and I fell instantly and irrevocably in love with her.
As I talk, he questions me from time to time, but mostly lets me speak, as promised.
I remind him of little facts that he’d forgotten or missed—the fact that I always sat near Parker at holiday events like Thanksgiving, always sought out time to talk to her, even if it was just sparring back and forth, always asked about her, as recently as when he asked me to be in Bruce’s production of “Wuthering Heights.”
“She’s furious with me right now, but I’m crazy about her, Sawyer. I’m totally in love with her. I feel the same way for Parker that Tanner feels for McKenna, or Joe feels for Harper, or Hunter feels for Isabella…oryoufeel for Ivy. I love her, man. I love her so bad, I-I can’t…” My voice trails off.I don’t want to be with you, Quinn! It was all a fucking mistake.I swallow over the ginormous fucking lump building up in my throat. “Thinking about a life without her is…”
“I get it,” says Sawyer. “I don’t know if I’d survive losing Ivy.”
“Yeah,” I manage to murmur. “Exactly.”
“And you think she feels the same?”