Page 94 of A Disaster in Three Acts

Twenty-Six

We break away from each other eventually, our breathing uneven and shallow. I’m staring at his tousled hair and wet lips, thinking maybe Iamready when I remember my mother’s home. She could have walked in at any moment. She’s usually dead to the world once she falls asleep, but thiswouldbe the day she wakes up and checks on me. The day I’m straddling my best friend’s ex-boyfriend.

Ohgod.

He watches me for a second with hazy eyes. They grow clearer as the happiness fades from mine.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah. You?” I roll off the bed and try to flatten some wrinkles from my dress. I can feel the panic building beneath my skin, feel the buzz up and down my limbs, but I’m holding it off.

Corrine.

I know now that my gut instinct telling me she was pushing me toward Holden was right, and yet... I can’t escape the fearthat she’ll never speak to me again. I could lose her. It’s one thing for me and Holden to hypothetically be together, but it’s another thing entirely for it to be real, especially when I insisted I didn’t have feelings for him. What if this was all a test of my loyalty? For her to offer him up on a silver platter and me to say politely and firmly, “No, thank you.”

Is being with Holden, however long, worth losing both of my best friends? Because what happens with Holden now? I’d like to date, but then when we break up, he’s gone. I can’t take losing him again. I can’t take that on top of losing Corrine. And even though Kayla is allShe broke up with him, I’d still be the girl who made a move on Corrine’s ex. So, Kayla will probably awkwardly flit between us, Juniper in tow, until the school year is over and we all part ways or until she feels too guilty being my friend.

Holden stares at me.

“What?” I ask.

“Be honest.”

“I—I can’t right now.”

“You can’t be honest?”

“Yes.” My lip trembles, so I bite down on it.

He stands, laying his hands on my shoulders and squeezing. “Was that yes a lie?”

I shake my head. “No. I just can’t talk about it. Not right now. I’m... processing.”

“Okay. Was this too weird?”

I shake my head again, faster this time. “No. It was more weird that itwasn’tweird.”

He places a hesitant kiss on my lips in response. It’s over toosoon. “How about pizza, then?”

“What?”

He kisses me again, slow and gentle. “Pizza. Supreme.” He leans into my neck and presses his lips there. “And cheese sticks.” He bites down.

I laugh. “Are you getting turned on by the thought of food?”

“No, I’m turned on because of you, and I just happen to be really hungry.”

“We’ll get some delivered, then.”

“And then maybe you’ll let me in on what you’re ‘processing’?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe I can help you.”

“Maybe,” I say with a nod.

I order our food and a salad, no onions, for my mom, and while we wait for the delivery, I work on splicing together some footage while he takes photos. It’s the only thing I can think to do to get my mind off the inevitable. Eventually, I tune out theclick-click-clickof the shutter and barely notice when he starts rearranging some furniture in my room so he can get an unobstructed view of the mural. He takes photos of it and it reminds me that very soon, if my mom has her way, the wall will be white and no one will ever see Nev riding Tilikum into the sunset ever again.

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