Page 89 of Wherever You Are
Crying is hard for me in front of anyone, and he needs encouragement. Strength. He needs,it’ll be okays.Not a blubbering, dejected friend.
My throat and eyes burn.
“Willow,” he whispers, his voice raspy.
I inhale deeply and wipe my running nose. “What about Superheroes & Scones? Maybe…maybe you can work the weekends.”
“…maybe,” he says, not entirely sure himself. “It’s not like you’ll be alone.”
My face twists. “What do you mean?” I meet his reddened eyes.
“Ace Davenport? He’s totally into you.” His face is unreadable, and his voice is too flat to make sense of.
My gaze widens, and my face keeps twisting into a wince. “That’s not funny.” I think I might cry now. I quickly rub the corners of my eyes.
Garrison looks genuinely confused. “He always talks to you at work.”
“To tell me how I stock the shelves incorrectly,” I say. “And every day, after I help a customer with comic book suggestions, he makes a comment about how I’m a know-it-all, and that I’m really some poser trying to be cool.” Ace is mean to me.
His nose flares, restraining hot emotion. “Why didn’t you tell me he was a dick to you?”
“I thought you knew.” I swallow the rock in my throat. “You always seemed irritated by him…”
Garrison stares up at the sky, tormented by this news too. “I knew this would happen,” he mutters more to himself than to me.
I shake my head. “What would happen?”
He touches his chest. “I’mcursed…and I hung around you long enough, and I cursed you too.” His voice breaks.
“I’ll be okay,” I try to assure him, rubbing my dripping nose as fast as possible. Pressure bears on my chest so hard that I feel physically sick. “We’llbe okay.”
His tortured gaze sweeps my face. “Then why are you crying?” A tear drips down his cheek at the sight of my leaking eyes. Water brims over my lower lids and scalds my skin.
“I’m scared,” I say the truth so softly. I wipe my face again, and he rubs his bloodshot eyes.
Garrison lets out a staggered breath and then stands up. He extends a hand to me, and I put my palm in his palm. He pulls me to my feet, our boots knocking together.
Very tenderly, he asks, “Willow, can I hug you?”
I nod.
It might be our last hug for a really long while.
Garrison tucks a flyaway hair behind my ear, and then he wraps his arms around my body. I coil mine around his frame, my arms feather-light still, but his embrace carries warmth and extra pressure that dizzies my senses.
I hold tighter than before, my fingers gripping the fabric of his hoodie.Don’t go yet. Please don’t go yet.I’m picturing my life without him, and it’s so much lonelier than before.
Garrison tilts and lowers his head to whisper against my ear. “You’re still my girl.”
And then, without a single pause, Garrison Abbey kisses my cheek. His lips leave a fiery imprint, and my body solidifies like hardened magma.
He drops his hand to mine. I’m too stunned to speak, too sad to say how much he means to me, and too heartbroken to wish for a real kiss.
“If Ace Davenport gives you shit, you’ll tell me?” he asks, and he keeps talking as he sees me nod quickly. “You have my Twitter, Tumblr, and all that whatever, but…” He shoves his beanie in his back pocket. “I know we said we like the internet, but I’d really love your number.”
He’s asking for my phone number. It brings us closer in a different way than we both planned. “Yeah, of course.”
After we exchange numbers and add each other to our contacts, he prepares to leave. Taking a few steps back, Garrison hesitates.
