My stomach cramps. “Seriously?”
He nods. “She doesn’t want Figueroa to get caught. I know it. Why the hell do they all protect him so much? He doesn’t deserve it.”
I grab hold of the front of his coat, clutching the heavy wool. “Be real with me right now, Crew.”
His expression turns somber. “About what? I’ve told you the truth.”
“So you really didn’t—hook up with Natalie last night?” My voice is a whisper, barely heard. Carried away on the wind.
“No,” he says vehemently. “I was with you. All I could think about was you. And how good you tasted.”
My cheeks go hot, despite the cold air. “Crew.”
“I’m serious.” He ducks his head, nuzzling my face with his, his breath hot against my ear. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“I can’t stop thinking about you either,” I whisper.
“Natalie is fucking everything up. I should’ve minded my own business and kept walking when I saw the car lights pull in, but I had to know.” He presses his mouth to my cheek, seeming to breathe me in.
I close my eyes, pressing my forehead to his chest. “I don’t like her. But you’re doing the right thing, Crew.”
“You really think so?”
I nod, then look up at him. “Yes.”
He kisses me, so gently I almost want to cry. Who knew this boy could be so sweet?
“You coming over tonight to finish watching the movie?”
I’m sure that’s code for messing around.
“I shouldn’t,” I answer. “Everyone’s probably watching you.”
I can sense the disappointment radiating off of him, but we can’t risk it—and he knows it. “Maybe tomorrow? It’s a Friday. Curfew isn’t as strict. Or are you going home?”
“I’m not going home until winter break.”
He stiffens, squeezing me closer to him. “Where are you going for break?”
“Nowhere. We’re spending it at home.” I hesitate, wondering if I should ask. Then I do. “Are you going home?”
He nods. “I’ll be at my parents’ apartment on the Upper East Side.”
“Oh.” Our parents are practically neighbors. “Maybe we could see each other.”
A slow smile spreads across his handsome face. “You want to, Birdy?”
He sounds surprised.
“I don’t know.” I shrug one shoulder, and he clutches my waist beneath my coat, trying to tickle me. “Stop! That tickles!”
“Stop trying to act like you don’t care, when I know you do.” He pulls me in so close I’m completely pressed against him, our lower bodies stuck together like glue. “It’s okay to admit that you like me.”
“I shouldn’t,” I tell him truthfully. “After everything you’ve put me through lately. For the last three years, actually.”
His expression turns somber. “I’m an asshole.”
“Yes, you are,” I agree.
“Birdy.” He sounds shocked.
“I didn’t say it. I just agreed with it.” I smile.
So does he.
“Everything’s going to be all right,” he tells me, his mouth hovering above mine. “I promise.”
He kisses me.
And I can’t help it.
I believe him.
THIRTY-TWO
WREN
I haven’t been this grateful for a Friday in years.
Sometimes Fridays make me sad. They would make me miss my family when I was stuck at school. It was hard at first, adjusting to going to boarding school. Having to share a room with a virtual stranger, never feeling like I got time by myself. I did my best though, and eventually got used to it.
But Fridays were hard. Sometimes they still are, especially lately, as my friends grow more and more distant. I was so excited to have my own room, until I started missing having a roommate. Someone to talk to, even if it’s forced.
That’s how pitiful I was feeling only a month ago, if that.
At least we’ll have a shorter schedule next week so that’s something to look forward to, with winter break starting the week after that.
Will Crew and I actually see each other over the break?
I hope so.
I go to the dining hall early to pick up a muffin and coffee, stopping short when I see Maggie already there, standing in line. I immediately go to her, and when our gazes connect, she walks straight out of the line and wraps me up in a tight hug.
“I’m sorry I didn’t text you. Yesterday was—rough.”