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I shrug, pretending to be indifferent when what I really am is angry. “She’s lucky I only hit her once.”
That one earns me a laugh and I scoot over on the bed a bit, so he can sit next to me. When he does, he bumps his shoulder into mine. “Mom’s gonna be pissed when she finds out.”
“What is she going to do?” I crack a smile. Feel it wobble and tip like it’s going to come crashing down at any moment. “Tell me I can’t play baseball anymore. Take away my cell phone?” I never had a cell phone and she took everything I cared about away from me a long time ago.
And now Conner is gone too.
“She might not let you tutor Con anymore.” His voice sounds weird when he says it. Like he knows it’s a lie. Like he knows everything.
“That’s okay.” I give him another shrug even though the thought of not seeing Conner every day makes me feel like someone is strangling me. “I’m getting tired of doing it, anyway.”
He frowns at me. “I thought you guys were—”
“Were what?” I can’t help it. The words come out of my mouth, hard and defensive.
The lines creasing Ryan’s forehead deepen. “Friends. I thought you guys were friends. I mean, you’re over there all the time and—”
“Friends?” I laugh, even though I want to cry. “Conner and I aren’t friends. We aren’t anything.”
Not anymore.
He gives me a long look, like he’s trying to decide if I’m lying or not. “That’s good.” Ryan lets out a sigh of relief and stands. “Con isn’t someone you want to get hooked on, Hen,” he tells me, shaking his head. “He’d only end up hurting a girl like you. I’ve seen him do it.”
“A girl like me?” I can feel something ugly flare in my chest, hot and sharp. “What does that mean?”
“A… I—you know what I’m mean, Hen.” His eyes narrow and he shakes his head. “Don’t make me say it out loud.”
“Ugly.” I have to push the word out, make myself say it because even though I know what I am, it still hurts to know what people think when they look at me. Especially my own brother.
“What?” His eyes goggle at me, so wide and ridiculous, he looks like a cartoon character. “No.” he shakes his head. “That’s not—I mean, you’ve never… at least I don’t think—Jesus,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
A virgin.
My brother doesn’t want me dating Conner because I’m a virgin.
The laughter that bubbles in my throat is immediately smothered under the reality of what I did. I broke up with Conner because he wouldn’t use me like he’s used every other girl he’s been with. Because I am a virgin, but I don’t want to be. Because I want Conner to want me.
Not like me. Not love me.
I want him to want me.
And he doesn’t.
Not like that.
And knowing that hurts so bad I can barely breathe.
Still, I can’t let my brother believe the worst about him. “Conner is your friend.” Swallowing hard, I shake my head. “Why would you say something like that?”
“He is my friend.” He gives me a look that says something different. They used to be inseparable but lately that hasn’t been the case. I know I’m part of the reason why. “But you’re my sister.”
“Conner has never been anything but kind to me and he’s never—” I stop short, thinking about the way he kissed me earlier. How his mouth and tongue felt against mine. How he told pulled away from me and told me no. Don’t make me do this, Henley. Please don’t make me do this… “He doesn’t like me that way.”
“Conner likes everybody that way.” Ryan scoffs. “The problem is that he never likes them that way for long.”
I shake my head, force myself to laugh. “I’m pretty sure I’m the exception to that rule.”
He doesn’t say anything. Again, I get the feeling that he knows more than he’s saying. Finally, he answers me. “I guess you’d know better than me… just be careful.”
“I will.” I nod. Force another smile.
“Night, Hen.”
“Goodnight.”
As soon as he leaves my room, pulling the door shut behind him, I lie back on my bed and try to convince myself that Ryan is right. That I did the right thing because Conner Gilroy isn’t the kind of guy a girl like me gets to have. He would’ve eventually gotten bored and moved on to someone else, like he always does. He would’ve broken my heart.
It’s better like this. It’s better that I ended things before I got too attached.
When it doesn’t work, I cry myself to sleep.