Connor laughs a little at this, turning his heated gaze back up tomine. There’s a challenge there. Hope translates it asI don’t recall ever saying that I didn’t want to be with you.

“But I’m saying that I love you,” I continue, “because I sometimes think we as a society hold too many things back. We’re afraid of being vulnerable or rejected, we’re scared that we’re weird or say things that no one else thinks. And that’s okay. I’m not scared of that with you. IknowI’m being rejected, IknowI’m weird, and I know for a fact that no one else thinks exactly what I’m thinking right now because no one knows you the way I do. No one loves you in this exact, perfect, consuming way.”

“Fizzy,” he says quietly, his fingers twitching on the table. Carefully, he reaches one hand forward and brushes his fingertips over the back of my hand.

“So, when you’re home later, and feeling however you feel about this conversation—whether it’s grossed out, happy, sad, or confused—I just want you to know that there is someone on this planet who loves you unconditionally and deeply because of who you are and how you carry yourself. I’m so glad to have known you, Connor.”

He looks down again, taking a slow, deep breath. “I don’t know what to say right now.”

“I know. That was a lot. You don’t have to—”

“No,” he says quickly. “I mean, there is so much I’dliketo say, and I’m not sure how to articulate any of it.”

I bite my lips, willing myself to not speak over him.

“If you know what happened withSmash Course,” he says slowly, “then I presume you understand why I had to continue to stay away.”

Hope flares alive, hot and thrashing behind my ribs. “Yes.”

Connor looks at me quizzically. “I expected you to tell me it’s all bollocks.”

“Itisbollocks,” I say. “But you get to choose how you handle it. You clearly knew that I wouldn’t care what Blaine or anyone else has to say about it, and you made the decision that’s best for you. How can I be upset about that?”

He looks at me, surprised.

“Don’t you get it, Connor?” I say. “I’m telling you I love you. I want what’s best for you, even if that isn’t me.”

Connor opens his mouth to reply but Brenna approaches behind him. I cut him off. “Brenna’s coming over.”

Turning in his seat, Connor smiles at her. “What’s up?”

She looks shaken. “Do you have a second?”

“Join us.” I pat the seat beside me.

But she shakes her head. “Sorry, I—I think I need to cover this one with Connor solo.” She lowers her voice to him. “We have the results.”

I lean in. “Myresults?”

Neither of them looks at me, but Brenna nods at him. “I want—” she says, and then gives a shaky smile. “You and Rory will need to figure out the edit plan, that’s all.”

“Oh, right.” Connor turns back to me.

I try to read the forecast in his expression. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine.” His smile is only a flicker across his lips. “We need to finish this conversation, but can we do it another time?”

This entire change in vibe has me jittery and uncomfortable. “Yeah, totally.” I stand.

“Fizzy,” Connor says.

“All good.” I move around him, but he stops me with his hand on my forearm.

“I mean it. We need to finish this.”

I nod but don’t say anything else. It would come out strangled and broken anyway. I’m glad I told him everything I wanted to say, but I don’t feel better the way I expected to. If anything, I feel worse, especially with the prospect of trulyfinishing thisto look forward to.

forty-nineFIZZY