Page 19

“What do you mean?” I choke out, and then try to recover by clearing my throat.

“You know, worried about you being all alone so far from home. I know Nathan is there, but nothing can replace having a sweetheart. You’re so much more responsible and grown than your father and I were in college, but you know we met each other there,” she reminds me. That leads into a twenty-minute ramble about how her and my father met, a story I get to hear at least once a year.

I don’t mind. I’m relieved that I don’t have to talk about my own love life anymore. Plus, by the end of our conversation she seems to have forgotten about being upset that I might not be there until after Christmas.

After the call, I try to focus on studying again, but I feel like I’m dragging my brain through mud. It’s been difficult to focus on work over the last few days, between the incident with Lena and wondering when I’ll run into Dante again.

Lena and I haven’t spoken about the whole possible asexuality thing since that night. We’ve gone to breakfast and studied together a couple times, but it seems like she’s waiting for me to be comfortable enough to bring it up. She hasn’t tried to make out again, and her touches are all chaste.

She’s being remarkably patient.

She’s the perfect woman.

My mother would love her. My father would, too, even if he wouldn’t admit it for a while.

I can very well invite Lena back home with me. She might say yes, even though she already has plans.

So why don’t I want to?

I try to shake the feeling of guilt, but it sticks around like a bad taste in my mouth, bitter and nauseating.

Just when I feel like I might spiral into my thoughts, there’s a knock at my apartment door. I’m in my bedroom, where my desk is, so I have to go down the hallway, through the living room, and past the kitchen to answer it.

I’m not expecting anyone, but it’s only the early evening, so it wouldn’t surprise me if Ethan decided to come over unannounced.

When I open the door, it’s Lena standing there. Her face is a bit dark and pink from the ever-lowering temperatures, and she has an uncertain look in her eyes.

“Lena, I thought you were going to a movie tonight with some friends?” I say as I step to the side and let her in.

She takes her shoes and coat off near the door, but keeps ahold of her purse until we get to the couch. She’s wrapped up in a lavender cardigan that perfectly complements her features.

“I was, but almost everyone canceled and I decided I’d rather be with you,” she tells me.

I frown and scoot a little bit closer to her. “That sucks, I’m sorry. I’m studying, but I needed to take a break.” That feels like I lie, because I was barely studying to begin with.

“Have you eaten dinner yet?” she asks.

I shake my head. “No, I was about to ask you the same thing. I’ll whip us up something.”

“You don’t need to do that. Why don’t we order in?” she offers instead.

In this moment I realize how tired I am. My shoulders slump a bit.

“Actually, yeah, that sounds much better,” I agree. Knowing that she’s fine with ordering food instead takes the pressure off me. I like cooking, but I’m not sure what I’d cook if I even had the energy.

We order some Chinese takeout, and at first things seem normal, but Lena is much more quiet than usual, especially when we put one of her favorite movies on.

“Is everything okay?” I ask after swallowing a bite of orange chicken.

Lena shrugs and doesn’t look at me, keeping her eyes on the TV.

I raise a brow. “What is it?”

There’s more tension in the air the longer she’s silent, but finally she responds.

“It’s probably nothing,” she insists.

I set my food down on the coffee table. “It’s never nothing. You always tell me when you have a bad day or something annoying happens,” I remind her. “You even told me about that time you ran out of pads and had to?—”