Page 70 of The Chemistry of Us

TRU

Now

He was in my head.Did the Ghost of Christmas Past have nothing better to do with his time than haunt me?

Why did he even deserve my tears? And why did they keep coming? I was going to burn my phone at this point. Vaughan had not stopped texting. First, it was a question mark followed by a where are you at followed by a cat emoji, which was weird even for him.

The texts just kept coming until I finally responded.

Me:Stop! No, I don’t care that it was carb load day or that you want to adopt a cat, and I have no clue what a question mark means every other text you send me. I’m only answering so you can put me out of my misery! I took one day off. ONE! I am allowed one day without staring at your stupid-ass face, so deal with it. I’m sorry not everyone’s in love with you or willing to bend to your schedule, but I have shit I’m dealing with too!

There. That felt better.

My finger had never tapped send more aggressively in my entire life.

And I soon found out that maybe you should read a text or pause and take a breath before pressing send. I accidentally sent a heart and skull emoji.

So what? I loved him to death?

Loved him so much I would kill him?

Loved death?

On my next intake of breath a little text alert went off behind me. Nope. I rebuked it. I rebuked it so hard that there was no way he was actually standing behind me and?—-

“Well, well, well, Cinderella. I kind of hoped for a middle finger emoji, maybe even silence, but I finally broke through. Be honest, was it the dancing cat? It's one of my favorite memes. I mean, how is he up just on two feet? Science? Witchcraft? And why is he a better dancer? The universe really does demand answers…also, I took those last two emoji as love killer.”

I gritted my teeth and turned around, cell phone still clutched in my right hand. “I’m busy.”

He looked around us. “Um, you’re literally right outside the library, under a tree, in a yellow sweater.”

“So?”

“So you’re like a homing beacon to anyone with even less-than-perfect sight. Hell, your smell alone would have people out here, and I mean that in a you-smell-good way, not a you-should-probably-rethink-the-body-wash-you-use sort of way.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Not today.”

“What?”

“Give me one day. Just one day. I need one day not to be Tru, not to think of you as—” Words left unsaid just lingered in the space between our bodies. “Please. I’m begging you. Cease fire for a minute. Yesterday was difficult, and looking at you makes it so much worse. Tomorrow, I’m the dumb tutor. Today, let me be human.”

“Did I, then?” he asked, taking a step closer toward me, not crowding my space but not making me feel like I was isolated anymore as I backed up against one of the trees in the outdoor library study area. “Did I make you feel like you weren’t human?”

My lower lip wobbled. “A bit.”

“An apology”—he lowered his head—“is what you deserve, but it won't fix anything. Nothing I do will fix any of my actions, Tru, and while I still kind of love being enemy number one, nobody deserves to be talked to like that on their birthday. Furthermore, nobody deserves to be forgotten.”

Tears burn the back of my eyes. This was why he was dangerous to my health. He saw through everything.

I did.

I felt so stupid, forgotten like I only had a name, a campus ID number, and a purpose for a charity for my mom. I felt like everything was for others, and I selfishly just needed a few minutes for me.

“Alright.” He stretched his arms over his head. “You get today, but I have a proposition for you.”

“Another one?” This guy, really? “Let’s hear it.”

“I pass my two tests I have today with flying colors, and we cancel the angry sex bet. I can’t have angry sex with sad people. My dick just won’t get up, and how embarrassing would that be?”

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