“Being upset isn’t going to get me through it,” I said. “I’ll do whatever it takes, but if I want to start schoo
l in the fall, I need to stay on track.”
“I’ll do my best to help you, Violet, but UCSC might not be the school that works for you. You need to be flexible, okay?”
I’d nodded and promised, but I’d been planning my career since I was ten years old. I loved Santa Cruz. I loved my home. My family. Miller. I had no idea where I stood with anything. As if the ground under my feet were trembling and breaking apart, and I didn’t know if I’d withstand the rift or fall in.
That afternoon, I let myself in to the Whitmore’s as usual, but the master bedroom was empty. A sliver of fear lodged into my stomach until I remembered Nancy had scheduled a doctor’s appointment.
I turned to leave, to head home and continue to work on scholarship applications until soccer practice. Then River came up the stairs.
He looked handsome as ever, and his eyes lit up to see me. “Hey,” he said.
“Hi,” I said.
He cocked his head. “You okay? You look a little sad.”
“It’s been a rough couple of days,” I said, my throat thick.
“I hear you. Want to go somewhere and get something to eat? Take your mind off things?”
He was so handsome and kind, smiling at me with genuine compassion. His kindness threatened to undo all of the hard work I’d done to keep my feelings in check. They bubbled to the surface, but God, I was so tired of crying. So sick of feeling like a lump of clay, molded and shaped by outside forces. I had to be harder than this, or I’d never survive.
He grinned. “It’s a yes or no question—”
I flew at River. I flung my arms around his neck and kissed him. I kissed his lips, his jaw, his chin, and then his lips again. Urgently. Desperate to erase Miller from my body’s sense memory. To do what he did—move on with someone else and take back control of my own life that was unraveling right before my eyes.
River froze in surprise, his lips stiff and unyielding but eventually parting just enough. He kissed me back, lightly and then harder, his eyes squeezed shut and his brow furrowed, as if our kiss was work that had to be done. Our tongues tangled, out of sync, noses bumping, teeth clashing.
He broke away, his breath short. “Violet?”
“Your room.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. No more talking.”
Talking would lead to thinking and thinking would lead to admitting that this was all wrong.
We stumbled to his room; our mouths still mashed together awkwardly. I pushed his letterman jacket off his shoulders. He fell back on the bed and I climbed on top of him.
“I never expected this from you,” he said.
“Neither did I,” I said. Except that I wanted to escape from being at the mercy of my feelings for Miller. River was my lifelong crush. This should work…
But it didn’t.
Like trying to get a lighter to spark when it’s out of fluid, we tried to ignite with half-hearted touches and kisses that grew shallower. He wasn’t hard in his jeans. I wasn’t desperate to have him. We were like actors with zero chemistry, rehearsing a scene.
With a small cry of despair, I rolled off of him. We lay on our backs, side by side, our gazes on the ceiling.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Me too. I’m usually better…at that. You just took me by surprise, is all.”
“Okay.”
“That’s why I wasn’t…better.”