Page 143 of Burn Bright

Glassy film sears my eyes. Moffy is calling again. Then my sister Jane. I don’t answer. I send them both a reassuringI’mokaytext. I fall back into the pull-out, smashing the pillow against my face.

All I want to do is scream.

My throat is too tight to free one. I try to breathe. Pick up my phone again. I go through my photos, and I see about a dozen pics of Harriet. I took them during a slow evening at the End of the World. She’s sticking out her blue candy-stained tongue while pouring a beer. I remember laughing.

I remember her cute, grimaced smile emerging right afterward. Until she laughed with me, then threw a beer nut at my face. I caught it in my mouth.

She shook her head into a growing smile.

Everything was okay.

Everything is okay.

Oxygen tries to breach my lungs. Thinking about her is the only way I can shut my eyes and block out the noise and find some way to sleep.

33

HARRIET FISHER

Sleep is a luxury I don’t have.

Not with my Latin exam in three hours. Not having finished at the research lab at five a.m. this morning. Not with my mind whirling around Ben hating my ever-loving guts.

I sit cross-legged on the couch, the sun fully risen and my fourth cup of coffee sitting sourly in my stomach. My phone is face up on the end table, and I struggle not to take quick glances at it. I shouldn’t be waiting for Ben to text me. I’m fully capable of texting him—but he could just want to cut me out of his life like an infected wound. He’s leaving in less than two months anyway, so there’s a good chance he’ll use this moment to fast forward to the inevitable.

My eyes burn as I trample emotion. Words blur on the pages of the textbook.

Eden exits her bedroom in a rush, fitting earbuds in, and snatching her Lululemon sling off the barstool. I’m at least lucky I don’t have an early morning class like her. She gives me a small wave as she stuffs her feet in sneakers. I return it.

We’re notfriends, but at least we don’t treat each other like a forgotten carton of milk, spoiling in the back of the fridge. Weacknowledge one another’s existence. We’re considerate enough to wash dishes, put them away, and not overtake or overshare. It makes for a pretty good roommate relationship. No tension and even less risk for drama.

I rotate to my textbook when I hear the click of the door opening.

“Oh!” Eden exclaims in surprise.

“Sorry, I was about to knock.”

Goosebumps form on my skin as his voice sends an electric current through my body.It can’t be.

I twist around to see Eden nodding a ton. “Yeah, no worries.” She gestures a hand toward the living room, giving him silent permission to enter. Much taller than her, Ben peers over her head, and his gaze connects with mine.

My lungs inflate. I wobble onto my feet, clutching my textbook to my chest.

The corner of his lip lifts. His blue eyes carrying as much emotion that courses through me. “Hey, Fisher.”

“Hey,” I reply, almost breathless.

I must miss Eden disappearing down the hall, but I realize she left when Ben closes the door behind him. He grips a white paper bag in his left hand while a potted fern is tucked under his arm like a football. “You have that Latin test in a few hours, right?”

I nod.

He lifts the bag. “I brought brain food.”

My eyes well so suddenly, which causes my face to form a monstrous glower in some attempt to stop it. He pauses halfway to the couch like he’s unsure if I’m mad.

“You brought me food…”

“Yeah, I’ve seen your fridge.” He smiles, but it’s a tentative one. “Is that okay? I can go if you’d rather study alone. I just thought I could help.”