Page 64 of The Masks We Wear

“What do you mean?”

“Bitch, it’s clear you’ve got some seriously repressed sexual tension with the guy. That much is obvious, but do you still care about him?”

“No.”Yes.Shit. I do… my stomach curdles, and I push my drink away.

Her face jerks back, eyes widening as her brows shoot into her faint hairline. “Well, then, at your next little meeting thing, apologize and move on. It’s the last one, right?”

“Yeah…”

The realization settles over me like a cloud bearing the next flood. Gripping my necklace, I observe Amora as she flirts with the college guy that’s come to the table. She effortlessly laughs and touches him like he doesn’t light her skin on fire. It must be nice. Not having someone you hate and want to rip their clothes off at the same time.

Fine.

After all, I’ve done, a little apology wouldn’t hurt and move on... well, I guess the bandaid needs to be ripped off sooner or later when I stroll to Kentucky.

Either way, Spencer and I are long overdue for some closure, and it’s time we both acknowledge that.

TWENTY SIX

One more meeting, three more finals, and five more days. If I can just last that long, things will get better. At least that’s what I tell myself for the millionth time while I pace the small room waiting for Lily.

She’s consumed my every waking thought, plaguing me with her words like a fucking virus in the body. They’ve attached to each cell, multiplying and moving through me, making me sick as hell.

I’ve forgotten to eat on more than one occasion, guilt swelling in my stomach when I think of what went through her mind when she heard me that day. How shefelt.

Lily had shit parents—a dad that put work before his kid and a mom that locked herself in her room like it was an ivory tower. She would tell me I was the only one that understood her. Understood how it felt to be forgotten. To mean nothing to someone who was your world. Though our situations were different, Ididunderstand her. And I did everything I could to show her just how important she was.

So for her to hear me say that she meant nothing… I scrub my face with my hands, agony swirling in my chest, seizing the muscle beneath.

All the shit these past few months seems trivial in comparison to how she must have felt. Because unlike her, when we parted ways, I still had a family that loved me. Parents that cared about me and pushed me. Lifted me up when I fell, gave me tough love when I acted out. And Lily…

She was alone.

The door handle jiggles, shoving my heart into my throat, and I press my body into the back wall to keep steady when it opens.

She steps through the door, eyes downcast. Her cream sweater hangs from one shoulder, draping loosely over a pair of skin-tight torn black jeans. She’s frustratingly beautiful, and today, she looks a little less… cruel.

Lily sits down softly at the edge of her seat, keeping her bag draped over her side rather than hanging it off the chair.

She doesn’t intend to stay long.

I sigh, taking the remote from my pocket and flipping on the last color—an emerald green. The timer ticks away, and the air around us thickens, filling with our mingling scents, and shuddered breaths.

My hands tremble at my side, and I have to physically push my weight on my heels to keep from moving. Anxiety works its way up my spine, firing electricity through my brain like a lightning storm. There’s so much I want to say...

As if she’s counted the seconds in her head, she begins a fraction before the timer goes off.

“Hey.” Her voice is hoarse, cracked like she hasn’t spoken all day.

“Hey.”

“How was your day?” Still, her eyes are stuck on the table, and never in my fucking life have I wanted to stare at those stupid ass contacts so badly.

“Busy,” I rush out, eager to get to the open-ended segment. “How was your day?”

Lily’s throat bobs, and she shifts in her seat, crossing her feet at the ankles. She keeps her back straight, but her shoulders deflate a little when she answers. “Okay. How are you feeling?”

“I’m sorry.” The words tumble out before I can stop them.

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