Page 170 of Saving Sparrow
“Go!” I said.
“Can’t you see it’s happening again?! Can’t you see we’re losing him too?!” Quentin’s words were frantic, loud, and filled with pain that had nothing to do with Elliott.
“And whose fault is that?” I asked quietly.
He didn’t answer, but he stopped fighting me. For the first time since we flew out of the bedroom, he turned his gaze on me. They were wild and full of hurt.
“It’s our fault.” I cupped his cheeks. “It’s ours, Quentin.”
“What are we supposed to do?”
I shrugged. “We let him go.”
“But—”
“I’ll be back,” Elliott said to him. “I’ll always come back.”
This wasn’t about the job at the bookstore or whether Elliott would come back after. This was bigger than that.
Quentin paced, shaking out his hands. “Is this gonna be a full-time thing?”
“A few hours after classes, three days a week tops,” Elliott assured him. “No weekends. My weekends are for us. The discount is great too.” He looked at me. “I could probably get us the next SJM novel the night before it releases.”
“That’d be great.” My voice was thick.
“And you guys can come by anytime. I hear there’s a cozy nook area. You can read while Quentin watches his sports stuff.”
“Yeah, okay.” I nodded. “Sounds good.”
“Okay,” Elliott repeated. He seemed nervous now that he’d won the rebellion.
“How are you getting there?” Quentin asked.
“I was gonna walk.”
“Alone?”He was getting worked up again. I placed a hand on his lower back.
“Will you at least text us when you get there?” I asked.
Elliott patted around his pockets, wincing when he came up empty. Quentin ground his teeth. “I’ll get it,” Elliott said.
“Is the battery charged?” I asked. He winced again, the muscles in Quentin’s back tensing. “You can take mine,” I said. “I’ll charge yours, and you can take mine.”
I grabbed my phone off the nightstand, confirming that theShare My Locationwas on. Back in the hall, I stopped before turning the corner, eavesdropping on Elliott and Quentin.
“I’m sorry for being a dick, and I’m sorry about what happened at the game. I’m sorry for anything I ever did that made you want to leave.” He sounded desperate, taking me back to the day when my mother died.
“I’m sorry I didn’t protect her, Guelly.”
“I’m sorry for being sassy and for provoking you at the game.”
“I kind of like you sassy.” It was supposed to be a joke, but the tremble in Quentin’s voice ruined it. “Does this mean Groupie-Grayson wants to be your friend too?”
Grayson?My ears perked up.
“Probably not. He already resigned. I’m technically taking his place.”
Grayson must be the person getting him the job.
