Dad tosses a dismissive look at the kitchen island where Blair and I sit side by side on our usual stools. He leaves the room without a word, his footfalls sounding on the varnished floating risers that lead upstairs.
Mom frowns after him, her expression pinched. “Hello, son.”
With perfunctory efficiency, she gives me a drive by kiss on her way to wash her hands in the sink. When she’s done, she grabs a water bottle from the fridge and leaves the room.
They didn’t greet Blair at all.
“Um,” Blair says after a door upstairs shuts. “So, those are your parents?”
“Yeah.” I rub my jaw, stabbing my fork into the chicken on my plate. “Congratulations, you’ve witnessed happy reunion number thirty-eight.”
Blair’s head jerks back at my caustic tone. I can’t help it. My parents always put me in this dour mood.
“Sorry. Finish up, then we’ll go study for midterms.”
She seems like she wants to talk more, but nods and returns to eating dinner. Her worried peeks in my direction wind my spine tighter with tension as I sit in silence.
After dinner, the plates clink when we set them in the sink. We go up to my room and spend an hour on the floor going through spread out flashcards Blair made for the English exam. When it’s late, she casts a longing look at the bed.
“I’ll, uh, go back to the other room tonight.”
She hasn’t called it her bedroom in weeks, much less slept there. We’ve been living in a perfect cocoon until my parents showed up. I don’t want to sleep without her in my bed. I sleep better when I’m wrapped around her.
“They don’t care. You can stay in here if you want.”
“Still. I don’t really know how to do the whole awkward ‘hi, I’m Blair, and I’ve been sleeping in your son’s bed for weeks’ conversation. Amongst…other things.”
Blair turns a pretty shade of pink. I drag her to me, kissing her deeply. Her eyes are darker when we part, pupils dilated and lashes fluttering.
A growl tears through me. “Fuck.”
Blair gives me a soft, shy laugh. “Deal with it. You’ll survive.”
“But at what cost?” I drape myself against her side.
She pushes at me with a wry grin. “Goodnight.”
Blair gathers her flashcards and grabs a paperback she’s been reading from her nightstand before leaving the room. I stare at the closed door after she leaves, willing my twisting heart to calm down.
“Stupid,” I mutter to myself as I climb to my feet.
Going to one of the panels of my closet, I open it and take out the magazine page with our contract agreement written on it. My fingers brush over it, tracing where Blair signed her name.
Now that I’ve caught her, do I get to hold on to her?
Or is the contract the only thing keeping Blair by my side? I wonder if she would go if I tore it up.
* * *
For two days, I’m braced for my parents to say something—anything. It’s what parents should do, but they don’t. There’s barely any acknowledgement of Blair’s presence at the house, and she’s been jittery anytime we’re all in the same room.
It leaves me angrily floundering.
“Midterms this week?” Dad asks, nursing a cup of coffee when I come downstairs.
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I grunt in response, pouring a mug for myself.