Page 196 of Becoming Us
“Yeah, but you and I both know dorm hangouts are usually code for a hookup. And not a repeat thing—maybe once or twice, max. And have you seen him, Hols? He’s so far out of my league it’s not even funny.”
“He’s not out of your?—”
“He’s a jock. On a scholarship. And he’s a good guy. What the fuck is someone like that supposed to do with me?”
She crossed her arms. “You should ask him out. Don’t stay in. If it turns out you’re wrong and he wants more—don’t sleep with him. You really like this guy, Noah. Don’t write it off before it even starts.”
“Hols,” I said, shrugging. “I can’t handle more rejections. I need a break.”
She didn’t look convinced. At all.
“What I could use is a very good fuck. I promise I’ll tell you everything later, okay?” I said, kissing her cheek as I made a break for the door.
“Noah—”
“Bet he’s hung. You don’t wanna miss that update. Love ya!” I winked, pulling the door shut behind me.
I paused in the hallway. Took a breath. Let the smile fall away.
This was fine.
You’re just on borrowed time, remember?
Why make anyone else carry that heartache?
Maybe it was time to stop hanging out with Holly too.
He didn’t have freckles, but there were tiny specks of brown around his pupils—almost golden when they caught the light. His nose was straight, though slightly crooked at the bridge, like he’d once taken a hit or caught a ball to the face. We’d been so close—close enough for me to notice that, and a million other details, before I finally came to my senses.
Because when Atty looked at me, it wasn’t with hunger.
No one—in all my twenty years—had ever looked at me like that.
Like he was waiting for something tobegin. Like he couldn’t believe I was real.
And he had no idea it was all a lie.
He had no idea I was the worst person in the world for him. Somehow, I’d convinced him I was worth it. Years of practice had made me good at selling the fantasy—and he’d bought it too.
But I didn’t want to do this to him.
Not him.
He was so perfect.
I didn’t want to be the one to break him.
I didn’t even deserve the chance to try.
Of course he’d shown up to the stupid party.
Even though I’d done the right thing and hadnotkissed him.
Even though I’d spent weeks convincing myself to leave him alone—to stop showing up, to stop thinking about him. I had still asked him to come. And he’d said no.
He’d said no.
He’d said he wasn’t coming, and even though that had been a good thing, it had still hurt my feelings—and I’d wanted none of that. I was having people over, so I had to be Everything-Noah: happy, chatty, sexy, slutty—you name it, you got it. Turn on the show and be whatever they wanted me to be.
