Page 54 of Collide
She shakes her head in disbelief. “You’re a goddamn headache, you know that?”
“I know, and I’m sorry.”
She stares at me for a long minute, something akin to surprise passing before she blinks it away. The light tap of the horn behind me tells me I’m running out of time.
“I have to leave for Chicago, and I won’t be back for a few days. I was really hoping we could talk this out.”
“You’re leaving?” There's a hint of disappointment in the question. “I mean, you should leave then. You don’t want to be late.”
Dylan calls my name again, and I want to punch a hole through his head.
“Give me a minute!” I yell back. “Please, can we just talk this through later?” I say to her.
“There’s nothing to talk about. I’ll figure something else out.”
Dejection ripples through me. “I can’t leave without making this right.”
She shakes her head in disbelief. “You have a whole team waiting for you, Aiden. Don’t let them down, too.”
I should have expected that jab. “I won’t. I just need to make sure this—” I gesture between us, “—isn’t ruined.”
“My project is almost done. It shouldn’t matter anyway.”
Her sharp words are punctuated by a honk.
I ignore it. “Just tell me I can redeem myself.”
Summer bites the inside of her cheek in contemplation.
“Crawford! Kilner’s calling. We gotta go, man.”
“Fuck—One second!” I shout.
Summer doesn’t answer. She looks completely withdrawn, and it fucking kills me that I made her feel that way. “I messed up, Summer. I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” she finally says, turning to the doors of Iona House and disappearing inside.
17 | SUMMER
THE DORM IS dark and quiet when I walk in after my run. I’ve only taken one step before I see a small box on the counter. The golden bow shines despite the dimness. I gingerly approach the mystery item, and my heart inflates in my chest when I see it.
It’s the tea my dad used to buy me, and there’s a note attached to the bottom.
For all those headaches I give you - A.
There’s a riot in my stomach. I haven’t seen or texted Aiden back since he left for Chicago. I spent my time figuring out another element to add to my project because he missed the test. It's an exhausting feeling when it seems like my work isn’t important enough. But the way Aiden looked at me made my chest feel heavy. The way the one apology and his earnest look had me wanting to say it was okay. I never feel like this when someone lets me down, I just learn my lesson.
It’s because his eyes were the first thing I noticed about him.
As a kid I was obsessed with my dad’s eyes. Gray with tiny flecks of gold, sometimes blue in different lights. I’d constantly ask my mom why I got the boring brown, and my sisters had his eyes. I cried about it for days, and weirdly enough it still hits me. The realization that it was another thing my dad couldn’t give me. Another part of him I couldn’t have. Another part that belonged to my sisters and not me. It was pathetic. Pure genetic probability, yet ironically it perfectly explained our relationship.
But Aiden has the same mesmerizing eyes. Eyes that make you forget your words until you make a conscious effort to remember them again. Eyes that tell you with just one look how pure the soul behind them is. He has them, and I hate that he does. Even more, I hate that I notice.
When my phone glows, Dalton app notifications litter my screen. I don’t need to open it to know that the guys probably won. It’s hard enough avoiding the game when everyone and their mother is posting about it. Amara and Cassie are there too. They invited me, thinking I could stomach the sport now, but that hope’s been incinerated by a tardy hockey player. I’d rather sit in my dorm and study while occasionally freaking out at creaks in the hallway.
A knock sounds on the door, and I jump. Hesitantly, I move to answer it, trying to calm my erratic pulse. When I ease the door open and peek through the crack, my heart stutters.
Aiden stands in my doorway in his hockey gear, minus the skates and helmet. Somehow his hair is still flowing perfectly. Helmet hair doesn’t exist in his universe.
