She took a sip of her milkshake, then set her palms on the table and met my eyes. “You know Clint still isn’t over you, right?”
“What?”
She shrugged. “I wish he was, no offense. He told me he doesn’t really believe you don’t like him. He thinks Cassian is putting you up to it, somehow.”
I groaned. “Why can’t he just let this be easy?”
Zoe wore a serious expression. I hadn’t realized I’d been collecting small bits of evidence over the past few weeks, but they came together in a flash of insight. Zoe liked Clint, didn’t she? It’s why she was so protective of him and so insistent that I do the right thing and tell the truth. I wanted to go back in time and slap myself for being such an idiot. I’d been stringing the guy she liked along because I was too much of a coward to admit my heart—against all reason and good sense—was hung up on another guy. “What are you going to do?”
“The right thing. If he tries to talk to me about it, I’ll tell him the full truth.”
“And what’s the full truth?”
I picked at my fingers, trying to find the right words.
Zoe’s eyes narrowed. “Wait. You’re not actually into Cassian, are you?”
“No. I mean, I don’t think so. And if I am, I wish I wasn’t.”
Zoe theatrically thumped her forehead against the table and let out a low moan of frustration. “Do I need to talk you off the ledge? Do I need to remind you that he embarrassed you in front of half the school on your first day back? Or that he nearly killed a guy because he thought you liked him? Or that he calls you Scarface and he’s manipulating and controlling you?”
I sighed. “Got anything else? Because I remember all of it, and it’s not helping.”
“You’re hopeless, aren’t you?”
“I just keep thinking there’s something else to him. Like, I don’t know? Maybe the kid I grew up with is still in there. But he’s hurting, so he pushes everyone away. And maybe what he really needs is someone to put up with him long enough to get through his armor?”
“Is he worth all that?”
I sank back in my chair. “I don’t know. All I know is that it doesn’t matter how much I try to talk myself out of it. There’s just this thing about him. Like a chemical reaction, I guess. It defies all reason, because no matter what he says or does, I still come alive when I’m around him. He makes everything else feel less, and it wouldn’t be fair to be with someone like Clint if I was still thinking about Cassian, right?”
“Yeah.” She looked conflicted, but I thought I could sense a little relief in the way her shoulders relaxed. “But you should tell Clint sooner, rather than later. I think he’s planning some sort of romantic gesture to prove he’s not scared of Cassian. Something dumb to win you back.”
“Seriously?”
She nodded gravely.
“Does he realize Cassian really might’ve killed him if Tristan hadn’t been there to pull him off?”
“And do you realize you’re falling for a guy who might have murdered someone for being interested in you? Sorry,” Zoe added quickly. “I’m not trying to judge you or—”
“No, it’s okay. Like I said, I’m fully aware it’s stupid. That’s why I’m not planning to buy flowers and go ask Cassian to take me to prom or something. My plan is still to ignore my feelings, because they’re stupid. But Clint needs to know I have those feelings, either way.”
“Just be careful.”
I grinned. “I’ll be okay.” Probably, at least.27CassianI came down to the kitchen before school and saw Charli standing at the stove in a sweat-soaked white tank top and a pair of tight running shorts. Apparently, she was done refraining from exercise after her concussion.
“I need to use the kitchen.” I opened the fridge and pulled out a stick of butter, setting it beside Charli. “So you can either deal with me being in your way, or you can move and I’ll let you eat some of what I make.”
“How do I know you won’t poison me?”
“You’re welcome to watch.”
I waited for the explosion—the challenge. That was the pattern with her. It was a bumping and shoving sort of dynamic, like we were two people trying to squeeze through the same narrow doorway. Except both of us kept coming back to it at the same time, almost like we wanted the excuse to clash.
Instead, she set down the box of cereal she’d been about to pour and walked to the table. “Go ahead, then. Because I’m not convinced you even know how to cook.”
I stole a glance at her as I dug eggs out of the fridge and caught her watching me.
“It’s not that complicated. You stir the shit up and then make it hot. When it’s hot enough, you put it on the plate. Am I forgetting anything?”