“I know,” he says.
“You didn’t even tell me where you were going or what was going on. You just left.”
“I know,” he says again.
“And I don’t understand why you didn’t message me and let me know you were fine when you woke up yesterday at Lenny’s. It was a two-minute call; a thirty-second text.”
His hand squeezes mine. “If I wasn’t so hungover, I would’ve.”
“I’m sorry for what happened. I know that game wasn’t fair to any of you, but especially not to you, Palmer, or Hudson, but,” I roll to face his shadowed face. “If that’s how you’re going to respond when things get bad or go wrong, I can’t do this. I can’t sign up for just the good days and pretend to exclude the bad ones.”
“I only want to give you the good days. I hate the idea of giving you my problems or issues. Look what happened Friday night when I got home. I hate that side of me. I hate that you saw it. And I hate confrontation, especially with you.”
“Relationships don’t work that way. Friendships don’t even work that way. What you’re describing—only seeing people at their best and when they’re not vulnerable–is an acquaintance. I’m mad at you because you’re way more than an acquaintance to me, and when you’re ready to have this fight—and all the others that will come, then we can talk.”
“I’m ready to talk now. I am in this, Hadley. I’m here.”
I shake my head. “No. This isn’t a decision you can make here and now. You need to spend some time reflecting on this and what will happen the next time things get turned upside down.”
He nods slowly. “All I know is I want to be with you.”
“That’s a good place to start.”
He sighs. “I hate leaving you.”
I sit up, needing to feel the coolness of the room instead of the warmth that always radiates from Nolan. “You didn’t hesitate on Saturday.”
He flinches at the reminder. “Can I call and text you?”
I nod. “No matter what happens—what decision you make—I hope we remain friends.”
Nolan shakes his head. “You and I have always been more than friends. That will never change.”
My heart beats unevenly with confirmation.
“I’m truly sorry for what I did, and I hate that I broke your trust. I’m going to work to get it back.”
I’ve never hoped so hard for someone to be right as I hope now.
“If you need anything—a ride, a spider to be caught, an audience for your final speech—anything, I’m here.”
I don’t respond.
Nolan climbs to his feet. I follow him downstairs and to the front door where he slows, seeming as reluctant as I am about leaving.
“I’ll see you soon, Cutlass.” I think he’s debating kissing me.
“Drive safely.”
He looks back twice before the door closes behind him. I lock it, a new weight heavy on my chest as I sit on the couch, unable to go back to my room with the ghost of Nolan still there.
More than an hour passes before someone arrives home. It’s nearly eight.
“Hey,” Hannah says, her voice a combination of relief and sympathy. “I brought home some pizza.” She nods to the boxes in her hands.
I should be hungry, but I’m not.
“Katie’s on her way home. We thought we should get the tree set up.”