Page 59 of Come As You Are

Sabrina arches one of her thin brows. “Uh, no. Have you seen the way you two are constantly touching and whispering and finishing each other’s sentences? Half the timeIdon’tremember you’re not a couple. Now grab your jacket—it’s a wee bit nippy out.”

“You’rea wee bit nippy,” I snap, busying myself with hunting down my jacket so she won’t see the flush in my cheeks at her comment about me and Salem. We donotact like a couple.

“Well, we can’t all have your assets,” she says with a pointed look at my chest, and as I stomp out after her, slipping my arms into my sleeves, I vow to start making new friends as soon as this weekend is over.

But lunch is surprisingly fun too, and revelatory—I learn about Sabrina’s first pet, a guinea pig who lived up to his job title for way too many of her practice spells, and that Salem was afraid of lightning until junior high and Sabrina’s not convinced he’s over it. (“I’ll protect you,” I assure him in a serious whisper, patting his hand on the table while Naomi Grayson watches us like she’s about to advise on our china pattern.)

Of course, Salem and I are forced to recount our “first date,” and while we definitely donotfinish each other’s sentences, it’s pretty easy without even discussing it to simultaneously come up with that first movie night as the setting. Naomi is riveted at the detail that Salem loaned me his jacket (naturally, we give it a very different context), and glows as we one-up each other with stupid additions that make it sound more like Salem took me to Cannes than that we walked together across campus to watch a cheesy movie in an auditorium.

“Sammy.” I swear she’s holding back tears as she squeezes his hand over the table, and okay, maybe I feel a little bit badfor having so much fun with this. “I’m so proud of you. You promised that you’d turn into a real stand-up citizen if you got a fresh start, and you really have.”

The guilt at our deception gives way to a little pride, because this means I havedefinitelydelivered on my half of the bargain. Judging by the way Salem’s cheeks flush as he stares at the tabletop, but without letting go of his mom’s hand, this is exactly what he’s been waiting to hear. And I’m genuinely happy for him that he’s getting to hear it.

This time, when I put a hand on his knee and squeeze, I’m not trying to draw blood.

Still, I find I need a break from the charade; it’s all starting to feel a little too real for comfort, and I don’t like the way Sabrina keeps eyeing us and smirking. Ireallydon’t like thinking about whether this is a shitty thing to do to Jenna—much as she sucks—and how, if it is, I of all people should know better. So after lunch, I’m considerably firmer about not accompanying them on the next portion of their weekend, and I spend the rest of the afternoon playing online poker and reading Sabrina’s and my next GSA read—this time, it’s the football player / cheerleader romance, which Sabs has already grudgingly admitted is better than she expected.

I don’t even realize it’s growing dark around me until a knock sounds at my door, forcing me to look up from the page. “Come in!”

The knob turns and Salem lets himself inside, holding one of the beige clamshells they keep at the Beast for takeout. My stomach rumbles at the sight; missing dinner may havebeen a necessary sacrifice for privacy, but it wasn’t a welcome one. “Any chance that’s for me?”

“You know it is,” he says, perching on the edge of my desk. “Complete with extra garlic bread, in thanks for your service this weekend.”

“Good thing I won’tactuallybe kissing anyone tonight,” I say, motioning for him to hand over the food.Mmm, garlic bread. “So, your parents seemed pretty eager to buy that.”

“Right?” He shakes his head. “It’s so bizarre. I think it’s a weird PTSD reaction to Sabrina’s breakup with Molly, or something. It was rough.”

I pluck a piece of garlic bread from the clamshell and take a careful bite; I’m definitely not trying to sleep in crumbs tonight. “Looks to me like they actually care about seeing you happy and well adjusted. Novel concept, I know.”

He snorts. “This may be hard for you to believe, but Iwasfine and even relatively well adjusted at my old school. I mean, yeah, I smoked a lot of weed, skipped some classes, and got in trouble occasionally—”

“Salem. You got caught spray-painting unspeakably raunchy pictures of Daniel Tiger on a public wall.”

“First of all, that’s disgusting. Daniel Tiger is a child. The pictures were of his parents, and it’s not my fault they’re so foxy.”

“Do you ever actually listen to yourself speak?”

“Nah, who wants to hear that noise?” He rakes a hand through his hair, and it falls back in his eyes immediately. “Anyway, thank you. I know we didn’t give you a whole lot ofchoice in signing on for that this weekend, but you made my parents happy, and they really needed a win.”

Don’t I know that feeling…“So, you think they liked me?”

He rolls his eyes. “They fucking loved you.”

That shouldn’t make me nearly as happy as it does. “What’d they say?”

His mouth quirks up in a grin. “That it was nice to finally meet someone in our circle with an ounce of social grace.”

Social grace.I don’t think anyone in the world has ever said anything like that about me before, and I like the sound of it.

Frankly, it makes me a little disappointed that it was fake, too. Not because of Salem, of course, but I’ll miss his parents and their warm seal of approval.

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye,” I say, and I mean it.

“Don’t worry—I told them you had cramps. They got it.”

“Oh my God, I despise you.”

He smirks. “No, you don’t. I’m the bringer of emergency tampons. And garlic bread.”

---