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CHAPTER

SEVENTEEN

REMI

“Lunch. Me, you. Now.” Van wraps his arm around my shoulder, whisking me off the steps of the English building.

I laugh, leaning my head against his arm. The third week of classes is to the midway point, and I’ve yet to tell Van or Sloane about Cortland.

About my habit.

How my nightmares have turned to dreams that make me feel sick. Because sometimes… I start to miss him.

I haven’t seen him again, since I walked out of his house. I know Tigers won the game this weekend, and I’m sure he had something to do with it, but I didn’t look up his stats. I didn’t want to know how well he played the day after he was inside of me.

My stomach twists into knots thinking about it, but I push the thought aside.

“Fine,” I concede to Van. “But Sloane is going to come too.” I already told her I’d be meeting Van in the cemetery and she’s blowing off her class to eat with me.

“I like threesomes,” Van says, and I elbow him with a laugh.

“How’s Ryann?” I ask.

He pulls me closer as we walk along the brick pathway to the cemetery. I play with the end of one of my braids, darting glances at all the orange and black surrounding us. Students in EU’s colors. I keep hoping I don’t see Cortland.

At least, that’s what I tell myself I’m hoping.

“Great,” Van says. “For your birthday, she’s coming to the cabins at Grim.”

I laugh at that, shaking my head. “That’s not for my birthday,” I tell him, even though my birthday falls on the annual fall retreat of EU students to Grim Mountain, which is in two weeks.

Van is renting a big cabin. Last year, I went with Sloane and stuck to my room when the partying went down.

But I liked walking along the trails. Going for hikes.

Reading surrounding by changing leaves. This year, Sloane is going to the coast to visit her sister because her birthday is the day after mine.

She pleaded with me to come with her so she didn’t feel guilty, but I’m the one feeling guilty, keeping secrets from her.

It’s selfish, but I’m grateful that weekend I can have time to myself.

To think. To worry in peace.

“Semantics,” Van says, digging in his pocket no doubt for a lighter and a joint.

One of these days, he just might get arrested on campus.

But in the mountains, and especially here, at a school renowned for its art program, no one really seems to care.

“At least I’m not ditching you like some other so-called best friend of yours I know. ”

I open my mouth to say something smart back to Van, but just as we walk past the fountain across from the graveyard, I see him.

My heart races in my chest, and I stumble over my own two feet.

Van slows, glancing down at me, his brow furrowed. “You good?” he asks, joint between his lips. He unwinds his arm from around me to grab his lighter, flicking it as he inhales, lighting up the tip of the joint.

I glance past him, hoping Cortland hasn’t seen me.

But his eyes are on mine.

He’s in a black sweater, a white collared shirt underneath it. His style was always either Southern prep or athletic back in high school, too.

Some things haven’t changed.

But between us… everything changed.

Beside him, some guy I don’t know with an EU hoodie on is talking, but Cort doesn’t appear to be listening. His fingers are flexed around the strap of his backpack and he runs his tongue over his lip ring as he flicks his gaze from Van, getting high right here in the middle of the walkway, to me.

I swallow down the lump in my throat and turn to face Van. “I’m good,” I say, “I just thought I saw someone I knew.”

Van exhales smoke through his nose. “You know people?” he asks with the hint of a smile.

I slap his chest with the back of my hand, and as Cortland gets closer, I see him still staring at me. I can hear the voice of his friend beside him, low and deep, talking about football.

Of course.

I think about my head in my hands in my room on Saturday. When Cortland would be getting ready for the game.

Fuck you.

I stand a little straighter and loop my arm through Van’s, tugging him toward the cemetery. I have no desire for him to find out right now that Cortland is back. That could lead to questions I don’t want to answer. “Let’s go.”

Van starts moving, pinching the joint between his thumb and forefinger, pulling it away from his lips.

Cortland is still watching me, his jaw clenched as his eyes narrow in on my arm looped through Van’s.

I hold my breath as we pass him by, and thankfully, he doesn’t say a word.

When me and Van disappear through the treeline, the white tombstones seeming like a refuge in the sun, I breathe a little easier.

“You sure you’re good?” Van asks me as I drop my bag in the grass and look over my shoulder, ensuring Cortland hasn’t followed me. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

With those words, I almost laugh out loud, plopping down into the grass. Ghost of the past.

“So, tell us about Asa. How are things? ” Van is the one to bring it up, the three of us sitting in the cemetery on an orange blanket he packed in his bag. He’s also the one who brought the food: Cucumber sandwiches, which are honestly delicious.

Sloane tilts her head, the soft white bread clutched in her hand as she swallows and her cheeks turn the slightest shade of pink.

“I went home with him the other night.” She glances at me as I stuff the sandwich in my mouth, relishing in the taste of cucumber and cream cheese, and I smile but don’t speak, letting her share what she wants.

“But I was so drunk…” She shakes her head and rolls her eyes, as if at herself. “So we didn’t… do anything.”

I think of how that same night went for me and don’t know if I want to laugh or cry. I take another bite of my sandwich instead, but I can feel Van’s eyes on me.

I almost want to take a pull from that joint he offered me earlier but I don’t want to speak so I don’t ask.

“Have you two slept together… at all?” Van pries.

Sloane shakes her head, her baby blonde strands falling around her face. She has to tip her chin up and rake them back, the late summer sun making her cheeks glow. “No. But I want to.” She takes another bite, probably to save herself from Van’s interview.

“You never told me. Where’s your internship next semester?” I ask her, changing the subject. I don’t want anyone to ask me about sex.

She shifts on her palm, her legs crossed like mine but she’s leaned back on one arm. After she swallows, her green eyes flick to mine. “I’ll be helping out with marketing at… wait for it.” She comically widens her eyes. “Reptilia!”

“I’m not really into lizard people.” Van chimes in, and I glance at him across from me as he grins, his dimples popping while he drops a dangling cucumber into his mouth.

He’s the only one of us leaning on one hip, his loose black jeans ripped and boots polished.

He looks too cool to be here. But Sloane looks like a supermodel, so maybe I’m the only odd one out.

“Are you jealous they run the world?” I shoot back at Van.

He actually laughs, white teeth flashing.

Sloane snorts and shakes her head. “Thankfully, I won’t be handling the lizards. Just the people.”

“Do you have to do an internship, Rems?” Van asks me.

I finish my sandwich and ball up the plastic wrap in my fist. When I swallow, I shake my head. “No, but I have to have a completed manuscript before graduation if I continue the Creative Writing track.”

“What genre are you thinking?” Sloane asks.

“Does it have to be literary fiction?” Van says the words with a mock British accent which makes me and Sloane both laugh.

I look between both of my friends, waiting for me to speak, and have a sudden surge of gratitude toward them.

For treating me normally. For letting this all be normal.

If either of them know Cortland is here, they’re certainly not acting like it, and I’m grateful.

“Can be anything,” I say, locking eyes with Van’s deep blue ones.

“Maybe I’ll write a romance.” I have to clench my teeth to stop from laughing.

The idea of me knowing anything about love enough to write it is hilarious.

But Van just shrugs and even Sloane doesn’t laugh.

“You’re the sensitive one,” Van says quietly. “They make the best lovers.”