Page 4 of Lovers Like Us
I flinch. “What?”
His yellow-green eyes pierceme.
“I just did what your brother asked me to do.” I lick my lips. I get that I haven’t always been on good terms with Charlie. There were moments, when I was eleven, maybe twelve, and weclashed.
He disappeared a lot, went off on his own, and I didn’t understandhim.
A lot of times, I still don’t. But in high school, he was there. Every fucking day for the last four years, he was by my side. By Janie’s side. The three of us combatted any harassment in Dalton Academy together.And we just graduatedtogether.
He could’ve been homeschooled like his twin brother Beckett and our cousin Sullivan. He could’ve left Jane and me out to dry and do his own thing. But he didn’t. He chose to stickaround.
So actually, I’m really goddamn confused by him rightnow.
Charlie messes his already messy golden-brown hair. “We shouldtalk.”
“Okay, yeah, let’stalk.”
We leave the crowded yacht for a little bit of privacy. When we reach the second deck, we pass a packed hot tub where Jane chats loudly with her youngersister.
I share a quick glance with Janie. And I nod towards the next set of steps. She nods back like,we’ll see each otherlater.
Once Charlie and I are off the yacht, we stand on the wooden dock. The boat towers next to us, looming and constantly reminding me of our familialwealth.
I never forget what and where we comefrom.
Paparazzi are nowhere in sight, thanks to the private marina. I crack my knuckles. And I just watch Charlie stuff his fists in the pockets of his slacks, his sunglasses hooked on hisshirt.
“You planning on rocketing to some planet?” I banter. “Want me to come along with?” I flash a dying smile, my lips down-turning fast off his stone-coldglare.
“Not everyone wants you next tothem.”
Ouch.
My frown darkens. “I never saideveryone.I just meantyou.”
Charlie lets out a short, irritated laugh, his smile almost pained. “Stop assuming I want you by myside.”
Jesus…I shake my head over and over. I keep licking my lips like I’m on the verge of the right words. I’m not sure what the hell they are, but someone, give them to me. “What did I do? Is this aboutBen—”
“You’re on yourown.”
I feel whiplashed, not following. “What—”
“You’re on your own.AtHarvard.”
“Wait—”
“There’s no waiting, no talking me out of this,” Charlie says so assuredly, so confidently. “I’m not going to Harvard. I’m not going to be your roommate. Find anotherone.”
I rest a hand on my head, muscles contracting. “College is in oneweek.”
“And the whole campus would just love to live with MaximoffHale.”
What the fuck is his problem? “You were the one who wanted to go to Harvard.” My voice starts to rise, but I’m not yelling yet. “I would’ve beenfineto attend somewhere closer to Philly, to be near our family, but you said,let’s go to Harvard together.Now you’re justbailing?”
“Yeah.” Charlie lets that wordlinger.
About five feet separate our bodies. But for the first time in fouryears, an ocean swells between us. Pushing him further and further away fromme.
