Page 162 of Saving Sparrow
“I’m not upset with you.” Elliott’s voice was flat.
“You’ve been upset with us for weeks.” It was mostly in the little things he did—or didn’t do. He slept with us, but we were the only ones doing the holding. He ate with us but insisted on eating off his own plate. We still had sex—the one thing he seemed most interested in—but he appeared detached, just looking for a release.
He didn’t seemasupset with Miguel, but I sometimes wondered if that was simply another tactic to make me jealous. I should’ve left Elliott home when Miguel said he couldn’t make it to the game. Ingram randomly chose him to give a presentation, so he stayed behind to prepare for it. I knew it would be hard for me to focus with Elliott alone in the bleachers. I hadn’t expected him to make it hard for me on purpose, though.
Elliott stared out his window, leaving me hanging.
“So, you’re just gonna ignore me?”
“I answered your question.”
“Yeah, with a lie,” I scoffed. “You’re pissed at us. You think we can’t tell? And you almost cost Wembly the game.”
“How do you figure that?You’rethe one on the field, the team’s ‘star,’ not me. Besides, you won, so it’s fine.”
“It’s not fine, and when did you become so damn sassy? Will you just stop fucking being this way?” I switched lanes as we neared our exit. “You’ll put on a skirt or dress tomorrow, put some shiny gloss on your lips, and we’ll go to class. No one will care. You’ll see. You don’t need Twink-Bundy or Rachel.”
Elliott whirled on me. “It isn’t about them! You just don’t get it.”
“Sure it is. You want to be friends with them, but you’ve already got friends.We’reyour friends—yourbestfriends—your fuck buddies, your bodyguards, your roommates, your fucking heart and soul… And you’re ours. Sopleasecan we stop all this bullshit?”
He sighed, still facing me as I pulled onto the exit ramp. “You and Miguelareall those things. But why can’t there be more?”
“Because more is a gateway to giving us less, to forgetting about us altogether. We can’t let that happen.”
“It won’t. I still love you more than I can put into words. I can’t breathe when I think about not being with you and Miguel.”
I turned my head his way briefly, nearly hitting the curb. “Y-you think about not being with us?”
“No. I mean, not in the way you think.”
“In what way then?”
“I don’t think about us breaking up. I just… try to imagine my life without you both, and I can’t.” He placed a hand on my tense shoulder. “It’s impossible.”
“Funny,” I stopped at a red light, “I’ve never tried to imagine that.” We locked eyes, his gaze begging, mine hard as stone.
Elliott released a frustrated sound, falling back in his seat. “And what about you? Are you saying you don’t want more out of life?”
“Yeah, more wins, more muscles, more time dicking down you and Guelly… I don’t fucking need more people in my everyday life.”
Elliott bristled at my crudeness and went silent again. I turned onto our block ten minutes later, parking in front of our building.
“Grayson works at the bookstore off Main Street,” Elliott said as I released my seat belt.
“Who?”
“The guy I was talking to at the game. He goes to our school.”
“Yeah, I know. I just thought his name was ‘groupie.’”
Elliott didn’t seem impressed with my jab at Groupie-Grayson. “You didn’t have to be mean to him. You could’ve said hi.”
“I don’t have to be nice; I just have to protect what belongs to me.”
Elliott shook his head as if disgusted with me. “The bookstore’s hiring. Grayson said if I came in tomorrow, he could—”
“Fuck no,” I spat. “Fuck. No.”
