Page 85 of Forever We Fall

My smile sours before it endangers my face.

Nate’s mouth goes slack for a second of shock, and then it blooms, stealing my smile. He rattles off something I don’t understand. Back and forth they go, and I’m left staring.

Arlo has never spoken to another student before.

The words, though I don’t understand them, feel like a betrayal. Like he’s giving a part of himself away. The only part that was all mine.

I turn and add weight with a little more force than necessary. The weights clang together, echoing in the large room. I shouldn’t even be adding weight yet. This is quite a jump. I don’t much care.

“Oh, don’t let me interrupt your workout,” Nate says, when I can fucking understand him.

Too late, motherfucker.

“It’s Hota’s turn,” Arlo pipes in English.

I grit my teeth and focus too hard on returning the clips to the ends of the bar.

Nate props a heavy shoulder on the unused rack beside ours. “I didn’t know you could speak at all, much less Portuguese.”

“Me neither.” I grip the bar, purposely not looking at either of them.

“He knows I speak, and I wouldn’t say I speak Portuguese.” I can feel Arlo’s heat behind me.

Sure sounds fluent to me.

“You speak it better than I do,” Nate insists. “I only ever practice when I’m there.” Awe turns his voice thin. “I can’t believe you stayed at my family’s Lindo Ponto de Praia.”

I can’t believe Arlo is talking to another fucking student, much less that he’s stayed at Nate’s family’s whatever it’s called.

If he traveled, it was with his family, before he was unable to touch.

What if he and Nate have been together before? What if he’s used me to get closer to Nate? What if?—

I know I’m spiraling. I know it makes no sense.

But there’s no stopping it.

“It had to have been before my parents let me work there,” Nate continues. “If I saw you, I’d remember.”

Does that comment make me feel better or worse?

I heft the weight onto my shoulders, hoping it will kill the irritation boiling inside me. I back into Arlo’s front. I don’t apologize. I don’t wait for him to get ready. I lift. I’m only supposed to do this weight twice, but I keep going, repping five before my legs threaten to give out.

“Shit,” Nate huffs. “You just repped my max, Hota.”

Arlo’s hands wrap around the bar a breath from mine. He helps me get it to the rack. I don’t acknowledge Nate’s comment. Instead, I cling to the bar, chuffing oxygen. My quads and ass burn like they’ve been set on fire. That allows my irritation to ebb.

“How was the ACT?” Arlo asks, releasing the bar and turning toward Nate. “You took it back in June, right?”

Just like that, irritation gnaws at my nape once more.

“Not as high as I want, but good enough for Oklahoma State,” Nate says.

My entire body perks. The burning fades to the background, along with the gnawing at the base of my neck. I turn toward them, still holding tight to the bar to keep myself upright. “OSU?”

Nate nods and splits a lopsided smile between me and Arlo.

“As in…the US?” Arlo grabs his nape, flashing the girth of his bicep.

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