Page 69 of Forever We Fall

He blinks the room into view, then yawns. “I’m shocked we went to sleep.”

“I’m shocked you didn’t have a nightmare.”

He grimaces. “Don’t think I slept long enough for one.”

“We’ll see tonight,” I say, bobbing my shoulders and staking my claim in his bed for the foreseeable future.

He nods and rubs sleep from his eyes. His hair is going everywhere, and he’s never looked more delicious. His chest is bare, and the covers hang around his belly button.

I lick my lips and drag myself out of bed and into the bathroom. We have class in an hour and fifteen, and we have toeat before that. Thank goodness the great hall is equipped for and accustomed to the mad dash of students.

As we move about our day and the days that follow, it’s surprisingly easy to get lost in the routine of life with Arlo back by my side. Sure, there’s worry, but I hide it well. Arlo throws himself into schoolwork, reading, and the gym. Though his life no longer depends on his peak fitness, maybe his mental state does. He never misses a day, and therefore, I don’t either.

We’ve carved out our old routine, but now we’re in his room at night instead of mine. It’s old and new at the same time, and great. The more days that pass, the more he talks about everything and nothing.

One night, we’re in his room, and he’s lying in his bed, his nose buried in a book about economics—snooze. I’m at his desk, finishing the last keystrokes of another commission. He sighs. It’s a heavy, drawn-out thing. I swear I can almost feel the breeze from it on the back of my neck.

The corners of my mouth tip up. “You know that’s not required reading for any of our classes. If it’s that bad, you don’t have to finish it.”

“It’s not the book,” he huffs.

I turn in the chair, the commission forgotten.

He’s still hidden by the thick text. Though I know he’s not looking at it. His fingers are too white from his death grip on the hardcover.

“You break it, you buy it.” I chuckle, aiming for levity. “And who the fuck wants to ownWorld Economics, Volume Four?”

“Me, someday.” He settles the book onto his chest and rolls his head until our gazes lock.

“Nerd.” I wink.

It earns me a half smile and a long-drawn-out, “Yeah.”

“Spill it, nerd. Or I’ll have to dunk your head in the toilet and shove you into a locker.”

He laughs and scoffs. “We don’t have lockers.”

I know they’re only in the locker room, but at least he’s fully grinning. Then his grin fades.

“What if…” His Adam’s apple bobs. “If they find him, we’re fucked.”

It’s taken a lot longer than I expected for him to come out with it. The worry that’s bounced around my skull for the past six weeks, of course has been bouncing around his too. It’s like a weight on our shoulders. It’s always holding us back. It always will. The new way of things.

In setting Arlo free, we also chained the what-if scenarios around our necks.

“You can’t let it hold you back.” I tell him the words I need to hear. “We were careful. Anything linking us is destroyed.” Except my grandfather’s wakizashi, which will link me to the crime, not Arlo. Something I’m completely comfortable with. I wish I’d been the one to end that sorry excuse for a human.

“What about?—"

“It’s clean. There’s no link.” I smile, hoping to convey confidence.

“I won’t let you go down for it.” Arlo sits up, kicks his legs out from under the covers, and tosses the book aside. “Not a chance.”

My molars grind. All my levity vanishes. “You’re not linked to the scene.”

“I’m his nephew,” he whisper-screams. The revulsion of that idea rolls off him in waves, from the sneer of his upper lip to his heaving chest.

I draw a deep breath, knowing I need to calm the situation. “They can’t prove anything.”

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