Page 119 of Fraternizing with the Enemy
“Text me the address,” Logan insisted, urgency suddenly renewed. “I’ll come get you?—”
“I can handle it.” I popped open the passenger door and climbed out, knees shaking when I stood on the grass. The music was stronger now, but so was the newfound sense of resolve.Ask yourself what you can live with.I swallowed hard, starting toward the house. “What are you doing tomorrow?”
My bedroom light cast a harsh glow across my half-finished makeup, my homecoming dress still laid out on my made bed. Outside, Brentwood buzzed with the excitement of Homecoming, but within these walls, I felt like I was in mourning.
Last night, I hadn’t slept at all. Instead, I’d laid in my bed, my Barbie goose to my chest, staring at the ceiling while wondering how much of me had slipped away.
That was the funny thing about slippery slopes. Every compromise, every silent nod, every little piece of myself I thought didn’t matter. Making excuses here and there, little by little, until I didn’t recognize the person I saw in the mirror. Until I hated that reflection.
It felt like I was in the process of waking up from a dream, half lucid, half asleep. I was tossing, turning, my eyes moving behind my lids. I’d fully wake up soon. I wouldn’t let sleep hold me much longer.
“Just get through today,” I told my reflection, staring at my half-finished eyeshadow. The blue shimmer on my lid glittered in the light, causing my light eyes to pop. “Just get through all the homecoming stuff today, then… Then we’ll figure everything out.”
My reflection just blinked.
I heard a car pull into the driveway, and at first, I thought it was someone pulling into Maisie’s driveway, until the door slammed shut, and it sounded like it wasrightoutside my window. When I peeked out the blinds, sure enough, I found Connor Bray walking up to my porch, stride sure. He was in his Brentwood Blue football jersey and a pair of jeans, with a determined expression to match.
A second later, there was a firm knock at the door.
I hurried out of my bedroom and fumbled with the lock, pulling it open. “What are you doing here?” I asked him, somewhat self-conscious of my half-done makeup. “Jade’s not here?—”
“You honestly think I’m here for Jade?” he asked, though not unkindly. He didn’t comment on my half-finished makeup, either. Instead, he eyed me as if hesitating. “Can I come in?”
“Into my house?”
He arched a brow. “Where else would I mean?”
Honestly, he could’ve said anything else and it would’ve been less surprising. I stumbled back out of shock, and he crossed the threshold easily. Connor toed off his sneakers before facing me. “Can we sit?”
What in theTwilight Zoneis going on here?I thought as I led him to the living room, feeling as though I needed to brace myself. And maybe I did.
He sat down on the sofa while I took the chair, fighting the urge to bounce my knee while he looked at his hands. “Not to be rude,” I began slowly. “But Idohave to finish getting ready for the pep rally—which, honestly, you should be getting ready, too.” Even thoughthe boys wore their shoulder pads for the homecoming game, for the rally and the parade, they’d be in suits.
Connor looked at me a little crazily, as if homecoming was the last thing on his mind right now. “I hurt Maisie,” he said somewhat suddenly, the words filled with something like regret. “How can I make it up to her?”
I blinked at the directness. “How—how should I know?”
“She said you used to be best friends.”
Maisie had told him that? “Like, three years ago. I have no idea what she’s like now.” I had no idea why, but the idea of him coming to me with something so important almost left mepanicked. “I—I don’t know what’s meaningful to her, what she’d appreciate?—”
“She thinks I’m embarrassed to be seen with her,” he explained. “I tried to talk to her this morning, and she thinks I only want to talk to her when no one’s around.”
“Do you?”
“No!” Connor tore his fingers through his brown hair, his distress clear. “God, no. I want to talk to her all the time. I don’t care who sees. But I don’t—I don’t know how to prove it to her.”
Last night, when Connor had remained quiet, I hadn’t realized the depth of his true feelings. I thought he must not have cared about Maisie that much if he could let her go so easily. I shifted on the chair. “Why are you coming to me?”
“Because I know you care about her.” Connor spoke so surely, and it reflected on his expression. “I saw you last night. Crying. And before, when you caught us in Expresso’s, I know you got mad because you wereworried. About Maisie. You’re pretty obvious, you know.”
I thought about that day at the bowling alley, Connor’s theatrical tone.What a coincidence, Bobcats. “So are you.”
We both shared a look; not quite a smile, but something close. Before, I’d called us cowards, but that wasn’t exactly true. It was more like we wanted to move in the right direction, but werejusttoo scared enough to go forward. And here Connor was, trying to find his bravery.
“Maisie needs a grand gesture,” I said finally. “She thinks you won’t talk to her in front of other people, so that’s exactly what you have to do. On a grand scale.”
“Grand gesture,” Connor echoed thoughtfully, tapping his fingers on his knee. I watched as he thought it out, and I could almost literally see the gears whirring behind his eyes. This did mean a lot to him—more than I realized. And then it was like a light flicked on. “I can do that.”
