Page 76 of Covenant

Thankfully, it never lasts more than a few minutes. Just enough until I let it go and change the subject. Then Wy returns to his normal, sunny self. He does that, and I can breathe again.

If he ever stopped speaking to me for longer than that, I think I’d asphyxiate—just stop existing. Sometimes I envision it and I lose the ability to breathe. That’s how I know I wouldn’t survive it.

Dramatic, sure. But I mean it. Even during the other seasons where we’re forced apart, we stay in touch. Wyatt has a shitty pay-as-you-go cell phone. He thinks there’s a glitch on it because he never runs out of credit.

What he doesn’t know is I stole one of the top-up cards years ago. Every week, I add twenty dollars to it, just so I can keep talking to him.

I can’t stop. I can’t give him up. He’s my obsession and addiction.

Wyatt Malone is so much more than my best friend. He’s my everything.

We’re lying on our backs in the dirt. There’s a twig digging into my shoulder and an extremely pointy stone under my right ass cheek. But I’m not moving. Not even an inch.

If I do, Wy might notice that our shoulders are touching, that his fingers are idly toying with the leather bracelet on my wrist. The one he gave me for my sixteenth birthday.

It’s the perfect moment.

Or, it would be, if Wyatt wasn’t talking about what he was.

“Her boobs were magnificent,” he says dreamily. “They felt softer than I’d imagined.”

I close my eyes. This right here is how I know that Wyatt is completely oblivious to my feelings. If he suspected, he’d never talk about his girlfriend like this in front of me. I was fucking grateful they got together before the summer started. I’d been able to hold it together as he first mentioned her over the phone. A transfer student named Katie. She quickly became the main topic of discussion during our daily calls. As Wyatt’s crush grew, so did my heartache. Any hope that this summer might be the one where he saw me as something more than a friend faded away.

I knew where it was going before Wy did. Of course Katie would fall for his charms. Who wouldn’t? There isn’t a boy alive as beautiful as my Wyatt. He’s lost his lanky form, filling it out with lean muscles I imagine make other boys envious. Not me. Well, I am envious, but not for the same reason. I’m envious that I’ll never be able to touch them. I’ll never be able to run my hands across his arms and up to his face, holding on to his cheeks as I lean forward to kiss him.

Katie will be able to do all of this though.

I push her out of my mind, thinking about him once more.

This last summer he shot up to six feet, his broad shoulders making him the perfect quarterback for his school’s team. The dimple in his cheek is now dusted with dark stubble. I’ve spent too many nights imagining what it’d feel like on my face, on my neck.

On other places.

And that’s just his external beauty. It has nothing on what’s on the inside. Once Katie discovers that, she’d be a fool to let him go.

“I’m sorry, should I not be telling you this? Am I making you uncomfortable?”

My eyes fly open, head twisting to see Wy’s blue eyes shining with concern. Fuck. Does he know how I?—

“Because you’re gay,” he continues, and the fear and hope vanishes as fast as it appeared. “Does it make you uncomfortable me telling you this stuff?”

I should say yes. Using that as an excuse means I don’t have to suffer with the stabbing pain that increases with every word about her.

“No, it’s fine.” I smile at him. “Tell me everything.”

He picks up where he left off, this time delivering a soliloquy about Katie’s lips. I tune out his words, instead focusing on his mouth. The shape of his cupid’s bow. How the top lip is slightly bigger than the lower one. How it crooks up on the left side when he’s amused.

I focus on that. It keeps me sane while he waxes lyrical about Katie. I don’t regret telling him to continue. It breaks my heart, but it’s better than the alternative. If I ask Wy to keep this from me, what else will he stop talking about?

It’s stupid, but my fear keeps me silent.

And keeps Wy talking.

A drop of water hits my nose. Then one on my cheek. My forehead.

“Fuck,” I glare up at the sky. The clouds are dark and roiling above us, thunder rumbling ominously in the distance. “I’m sorry. I checked the weather and it said it’d be clear all day.”

“It’s fine,” he mumbles, but it’s a lie. He sits up, body crackling with nervous energy. I jump up too, eyeing him warily. “It’s my issue.”

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