Page 100 of Finance Bros

My heart starts beating like I just sprinted across a football field. Is he going to hug me, too? I might cry if he does—I might kiss him in front of Bailey and everything.

Before that can happen, I let go of her and back away. I need to go, or I’ll make a scene. I’m feeling too much all of a sudden, and it’s really better if I’m not around him when it all decides to come spilling out.

19

RYAN

So, I might have made a slight miscalculation when it comes to Malcolm, but in my defense, he seemed fine at work yesterday. Better than right now anyway. Right now, he’s breaking my fucking heart.

I’ve never liked seeing him sad. It’s just that I haven’t seen him like this in a very, very long time. I assume it’s because of me, but it’s possible something else happened. I knew I was going to see him today—we’ve had this meeting planned since Monday, and I also knew ignoring his calls and texts was kind of a dick move, but every time I thought about responding or reaching out to him, my phone was basically a hot pan I didn’t want to touch with my bare hand. So I figured—wait until Saturday, but it looks like that was too long.

In my defense, I haven’t talked to anyone this week. Calyx has been out of town, and I haven’t spoken with Norah either. Sometimes I just need some alone time. I don’t mind it. It’s helped clarify some things for me.

Namely that I have an apology to make. I squeeze Bailey’s shoulder as I follow Malcolm out.

“Wanna grab some food?” I ask from behind him as he’s walking down the stairs.

“Not really.”

I should probably know better than to ask this, but, “You want a drink?”

“Nope.”

Good. He’s hard enough to deal with when he’s sober.

“Wanna come home with me?”

He stops at the foot of the stairs and turns around. “Seriously?”

“Yes.”

He puts his hands on his hips. “You don’t talk to me for four days, and now you’re asking me to come home with you? What do I look like? A Tinder hook up?”

“I need to talk to you Mal?—”

“Could have fucking fooled me.”

“Okay, listen?—”

“Is this payback?” he asks. “For high school?”

I have to take a deep breath becauseyes, there’s a part of avoiding him that was, maybe a small percent, spiteful. Do I want to admit that? No. But do I want to move past this? I do. “Not completely.”

“But some,” he says.

“Maybe.”

“Nice.”

“Sorry,” I say because I actually am sorry. It was immature and stupid, and I wanted to know how much he’d care. I wasn’t trying to hurt him, but I didn’t mind if it hurt, if that makes sense. Seeing it up close is different. “I needed space, but…I should have just said that.”

Malcolm drops his head and rubs his face with his hands. “You did. I just…Ryan, it might not seem like it, but this means something to me.”

“What?” I ask.

“What?” he says, his face blank.

“What does it mean to you?”

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