I feel like shit.

My mom is a wreck. She’s been crying all day. She loves Henley almost as much as she loves Conner. And he won’t talk to me. I told him I apologized to Henley. That I told her the truth. That I’m a manipulative, lying dick. That I did it on purpose, just to fuck with her. To break them up. I don’t think he even heard me. He just sat on his bed, back against the wall, and stared at the book in his lap. No fighting. No yelling. Telling me to leave him the fuck alone. It’s like he’s gone, same as Henley.

Now I’m sitting on Tess’s bed, in the dark, the kitten curled up in my lap, waiting for her to get out of the shower. She doesn’t know I’m here. Will probably tell me to get the fuck out when she sees me sitting here but there’s nowhere else I want to be.

When she opens her bedroom door and sees me sitting here, she stalls in the doorway for a second before slipping through it. She shuts the door behind her and locks it.

And I’m a complete and utter dickface because the quiet snick of that lock being turned makes it hard to breathe. Makes me as hard as if she were on her knees in front of me.

“You’re going to spoil her,” she says before clicking on the radio like she did the last I was here. It’s dialed into a local rock station. Bon Jovi’s Livin’ on a Prayer

I look down at the kitten curled up in my lap, grateful for once in my life, for small talk. “I’m the Disneyland dad, remember?” I say, shooting her a quick smile. “It’s my job.” I feel the smile on my face start to slide. My mouth goes dry. When she opens her dresser drawer I look away. “You named her,” I say, tapping on the shiny new tag on the kitten’s collar. “Shadrach. I like it.”

“Yeah. I got tired of calling her cat.”

I can see her hesitating in my peripheral, but only for a second before she drops the towel. I mentally weld my neck in place, refusing to give in to the urge to look. I may be a selfish dickbag and a two-bit criminal but my mother raised a goddamned gentleman.

I hold door’s open for the elderly.

I offer my seat on public transportation to women and children.

I keep my elbows off the table and know which fork to use.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to look.

Doesn’t mean I don’t wish I could.

She dresses quickly, signaling she’s finished by closing her drawer. When I look at her again, she’s wearing a pair of sleep pants and another tank. I want to ask her if she owns real shirts. I also want to ask her if she owns a bra but I don’t.

“Did you come to get your hoodie?’

“No. I just—” I feel my face fold into a frown and I shake my head. Small talk’s over. “I tried talking to Con but he won’t—have you heard from Henley?” I finally spit it out. The reason I’m here.

She shakes my head. “She doesn’t have a cell phone and I doubt her mother is going to make it easy for her to call.”

“Right.” I look down at that kitten in my lap and frown again. “I apologized to her. I told her I lied. That Con didn’t want anything to do with Jessica. That I made it all up just to fuck with them.”

“I know,” she says, sitting next to me on the bed. “She told me she talked to you.”

“Honestly, there wasn’t a whole lot of talking.” I scratch the kitten behind her ear, kick-starting her purr. “She mostly ignored me.” When she doesn’t say anything I look up at her. “Do you think she believed me?”

“I think she wanted to.” It’s not the answer I was looking for but it’s more than I deserve.

But I still ask because I’m having a hard time accepting responsibility for what I did and to be honest, I want to find someone else to blame. “Then why did she leave?” My jaw goes tight, its muscle bulging slightly when I clench my teeth. “She didn’t even say goodbye to him. To Ryan. She just—”

“Sometimes, when things are broken, they stay broken. No matter what we do to try to fix them.” She reaches into my lap to run her hand over the kitten’s fur. “But that doesn’t mean we stop trying to make it right.” She looks up at me and shrugs. “It’s something my mom said to me once.”

I remember how she looked this morning, standing at the foot of the stairs in my parents’ house. Like she was drowning. Her eyes wide, mouth open like she was gasping for breath. “Are you okay?” I don’t even realize I’m going to ask it until the words are out of my mouth and it’s too late to stop them.

The question seems to catch her off guard. Like it’s been so long since someone’s asked her that she can’t remember the answer.

“I’m fine,” she says, giving me a short nod. “We’ll figure something out. Hen’ll find a way to—”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m talking about this morning, when you came for Conner, you looked—” I stop talking because I don’t even know what I’m saying. What I’m asking for.

“I haven’t talked to your mom since…” She swallows hard and looks away. Doesn’t finish what’s she’s saying. She doesn’t have to. Instead, she shrugs, she shoulder rubbing against my bicep. “I don’t know. I guess I forgot how.” She gives me a weird little half smile. “Stupid, right?”

I don’t know what to do with her.

With the way she makes me feel.

With who she makes me want to be.

So I don’t think about it.

I just reach for her. Cup my hand around her jaw, my fingers pushing into her dark, damp hair. My thumb sweeping across her delicate cheekbone. I move slow. Take my time. Not like last time. The last time I kissed her I was rough. Angry. Trying to prove a point. Take something from her. This time I lower my mouth slowly, barely more than brushing my lips against hers before I back away. Let her go.

Afterward she just sits there and looks at me like she doesn’t know what to do with me either.

“Are you going to kick me out again?” I say it quietly because I know that she should. That it would the smart thing for her to do. That if I really were a goddamned gentleman, I get up and throw myself out the window.

“No.” She reaches over to pick up the kitten curled up in my lap and she lets out a protesting yowl. “I’m going to tell you to scoot over so I can lie down.

Shit.

I just stare at her for a second, trying to figure out how I’m going to this. How I’m going to stay with her and not touch her. Not take things from her that don’t belong to me. “This is a bad idea,” I tell her, my throat catching and scraping around the words. “You know that, right?”

“Are you going to hurt me?” It’s how she is. Blunt. Honest. There’s no pretense in her. Nowhere to hide.

“I don’t want to.”

It’s not a no.

It’s not even an I’ll try not to.

But it’s the truth. It’s what she needs to hear.

Deserves to hear.

“Then scoot over so I can lie down.”

When I move across my bed, it lets out a squeaky groan. It’s a twin-size daybed and I take up the majority of it.

I lay on my side, trying to take up as little room as possible. She lays down, facing away from me, Her shoulders pressed against my chest. The top of her head tucked under my chin.

She’s nervous. Doesn’t know what’s supposed to happen next. What’s she’s supposed to do.

That makes two of us.

I tuck an arm under the pillow we’re sharing and wrap the other one around her, pulling her as close to me as I can get her. Trapping my hand under her ribcage.

We lay like this for a while. Neither of us sleeping. Neither one of us quite sure how we got here.

She breaks first. I feel her head brush against the underside of my chin as she turns it, trying to look at me. “Dec—”

“You have work in the morning.” I tighten my grip. Hold her against me, her back snug against my chest. “Go to sleep.” Her heart is hammering inside her ribcage so hard I can feel the beat of it against the arm I have wrapped around her.

She doesn’t want to sleep.

Neither do I.

But what I want is something neither of is prepared for, so I don’t say anything else.

I just lay here and wait her out.

Eventually she drifts off. Her breathing slows. Her heart stops knocking.

I don’t sleep.

I can’t.

When her dad’s alarm clock goes off in the living room, I get up as quietly as I can and slip out the window.