Page 25 of The Obsession

“Fair enough,” I said. I stood up and offered her my hand. “Ready for lunch?”

“Oh, man, yes please.”

We grabbed our things and found a clearing right next to the river that was dotted with wooden tables and benches. I sat across from Delilah and took our sandwiches out of my backpack.

“One turkey and ham for me, and a mortadella, prosciutto, and turkey for the lady.”

“I don’t think it’s possible to eat one of these things and still be considered a lady,” said Delilah. She took a big bite of her sandwich and closed her eyes. “Oh, mm. Ee eeh oh ood.”

“Lucky for you, I speak Sandwich. ‘Oh, man. This is so good’?” I guessed.

Delilah’s cheeks rose in a smile, and she nodded. It took an effort for her to swallow the giant mouthful, and she was left with hiccups.

“I guess you’re hungry,” I said.

Delilah took her time sipping her soda before replying. “I am, yeah. But it’s not just that. When Brandon was around… Well, he had this thing about how women should behave. He’d tell me and my mom off if he felt we laughed too loud or ate too fast or took too big a mouthful of food or whatever other bullshit he thought women shouldn’t do. Ever since he died, I can’t seem to stop myself from taking the biggest possible bites when I eat.”

“Sounds like he didn’t want to be reminded that you all are people too.”

Delilah’s eyes met mine, her eyebrows slightly raised in surprise. “Yeah. That’s exactly it. He only wanted to acknowledge one facet of us. Mom was his girlfriend, I was his girlfriend’s daughter, and that was it. He didn’t like all the other parts of us. The fact that Mom had a job that paid more than his did, that she was her own person… He hated that.” Delilah took another sip of soda, her expression unreadable. She was off in a small, dark world for now. “He tried to make her quit her job.” Her hands tightened around the bottle.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” And I meant it, although mostly I was sorry that I didn’t get a chance to wrap my hands around Detective Jackson’s thick neck and feel those tendons snap under my fingers.

“Well, he’s gone now,” Delilah said, and her voice came out in a half growl that made the back of my neck prickle. She chewed her lip. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay, I know what you mean.” And I really did know. If only I could tell her how much I knew, how much I understood, how much I admired her for—

“What about you? I know like, next to nothing.”

“My name is Logan, I’m five foot eleven, I’m a Sagittarius, my hobbies include watching movies—”

“And long walks on the beach?” Delilah laughed. “Okay, let’s try this again. What do you usually do after school?”

I shrugged. “Mostly lacrosse, to be honest. I’m predictable like that.”

“How long have you been playing?”

Ever since Sophie said she had a thing for lacrosse guys.“Ever since I was a freshman.”

I’d never allowed myself to talk to anyone about Sophie—well, aside from Mom, but that was more of a one-way conversation. But this was Delilah. If we were going to truly connect, I had to be honest with her. To a certain extent, anyway. “I was really into one this girl, and she mentioned having a thing for guys who play lacrosse, so…”

“Aww! You started playing to impress a girl? That is so adorable.” She grinned at me from behind her ridiculously huge sandwich.

“Shut up,” I groused, but I couldn’t help returning her smile. “Anyway, nothing ever came out of my crush”—a flash of Sophie, dead—“but I discovered I actually did like lacrosse, so that was that.”

“What else do you do when you have free time?”

“Hang out with the guys. We do all sorts of stuff.”

“Really? It’s not all about competing with each other to see who can sleep with the most girls?” Her voice was still casual, but her eyes never left my face.Look who’s doing a little research of her own.She was curious about me, about my personal life. She was so into me. I knew it. I wanted to take her hand and tell her that none of it—not the guys, nor lacrosse, none of that shit—compared to her.

I gave her a solemn look. “You’ve been watching way too many movies about high school boys. We’re really not like that. Well, not all of us are. Actually, my friend Matt has been with his girlfriend since freshman year.”

“Oh, yeah—Moni. I like her.”

“She’s cool. We’ll have to hang out.”

Our conversation was everything I had ever dreamed of and more. So much more, because Delilah was right there in front of me, warm flesh and blood, and I got to see every reaction of hers, every twitch of her eyebrows, every shy smile, all the different ways her eyes lit up when we stumbled upon a subject that excited her. And it was all for me. I wasn’t just an observer anymore, watching her through her window or on my laptop. I was participating directly in Delilah’s life.

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