Page 61 of The Misfit

My heart stutters. “Please don’t say things like that.”

“Why?” Lee cocks his head to the side.

“Because you should only say things like that to someone you’re in love with, who you want to be with long-term. They aren’t meant for our situation. We’re still technicallyfake.” I lower my voice and whisper the last word.

Lee frowns. “I don’t care what is real or fake, Salem. All I know is how I feel about you, and I won’t mask those feelings. I won’t hide them, not even for you.”

No. No. He can’t talk like this. Can’t think like this. I should’ve known having sex would complicate things, but at that moment, I was trying to be brave and normal. I wanted him, and he wanted me, but now I feel like what we did, what we shared, was a mistake. Just another obstacle I’ve put in front of us.

“I don’t want you to hide how you feel, Lee, but don’t turn this into something it’s not. That it can’t be.”

I don’t miss the tight clench of his jaw or the way his gaze flashes irritation. He wants to disagree with me, to fight back, but even he knows this can’t ever become real. Not wanting to ruin our time together, I go a different route.

“You sanitized the table three times today,” I whisper, needing to focus on facts instead of feelings. “You never used to do that. I always did it unless you got here before me.” Something pings in my brain. Am I ruining him? Forcing him into my habits even though he doesn’t need them—not the same way I need them, anyway?

“People change. They pick up new habits. For example, they allow a certain someone to talk them into trying oat milk for the first time.”

“That’s totally not fair. Oat milk isn’t that bad.” I interject.

“Oh really? Says the girl who orders the same thing every time.” He rolls his eyes and gives me a panty-melting smirk.

Be still my heart.

“Trying new things is good sometimes.” I blink back at him, trying not to show the effect his smile and charm have on me but failing miserably. It’s impossible not to be affected by this man. It’s like he sucks all the oxygen out of the room.

“I’ll remember that next time I tell you we’re going on a date somewhere that you’ve never been before.” He sits up a little straighter and runs a hand through his disheveled hair. Lee’s raw beauty is impossible to ignore.

“I think you might be rubbing off on me, Pantry Girl. Or maybe …” He leans in, his closeness giving me heart palpitations. “I just like the way you look when everything’s perfect. A certain type of calm washes over me whenever we’re together, and I know it sounds stupid, but it makes me believe we can overcome anything if we stick together.” The sincerity in his voice, the emotion … it makes my chest ache.

“Lee, I won’t be able to do this if the lines between fake and real continue to blur.” I’ve been at risk of falling for him since the day we met in that dark pantry, and every day that passes, I find myself growing closer to him, waiting for the next moment when I’ll see him.

“The line between real and fake disappeared the day you let me eat that pretty pussy of yours.”Oh god. His mouth. I can’t believe he just said that.“I doubt there’s any going back now… not when your juices have coated my chin.”

“Lee!” I start to scold him and plan to tell him off, but then the bell above the coffee shop entrance chimes.

Marcus Chen walks in, and the moment shatters like a piece of glass.

“Well, if it isn’t the campus crazy and herboyfriend.”

Marcus’s voice carries across the coffee shop like a poisonous gas, seeping into my carefully constructed peace. I don’t understand how I can go from okay to distraught and panicked in seconds. My hands tremble, and the nitrile gloves squeak as I clench, then unclench them. I need something to do with my hands. I pluck the pencil I placed beside my textbook off the table and roll it between my fingers.

“Ignore him,” Lee murmurs, suddenly wide awake.

His body tenses like a coiled spring, but he doesn’t move from his relaxed position. He’s protecting me without making it obvious.

Marcus takes a seat at a nearby table with two of his friends. I do my best to ignore their existence, counting through their laughter as it floats around me.

“Remember freshman year, guys? When the freaks all stuck together?”

Freaks?He says it like he wasn’t one of us. That was before he joined the football team the year after everything happened. I try my best not to let my thoughts drift to that night, that moment when everything changed.

Don’t think about freshman year. Don’t think about Chelsea.

It feels like someone has wrapped a noose around my neck. My airway closes up, making it difficult to breathe as the rope tightens further and further …

“Hey, Salem.” Marcus’s voice meets my ears, but I don’t look at him. I’m trying to stay calm, trying to control the panic. “Have you heard from your doctor lately? Oh wait …”

The pencil in my hand snaps, the sound echoing through the mostly quiet space. I look down at the pieces, but all they do is remind me of how broken I am. Of how broken everything is, and the memories from that night threaten to resurface. Lee’s hand appears in my vision, collecting the fragments, his movements precise and gentle.

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