Page 42 of Full Split

“What’s wrong?” Niles doesn’t look like he knows whether he should laugh or be worried.

“As far as I’m concerned, you and thirteen-year-old you are completely different people. I mean it. That’s a hard line for me.”

He’s still laughing when he bumps his shoulder into mine. “I get it. I do. And I can see how it would be difficult to see someone in a whole different way like this.”

“That’s the problem,” I admit. “It’s not that much of a struggle.”

His expression softens. “So… you liked what you saw, then?”

“Was that not obvious enough?” I’m not sure how much more obvious I could be, considering how hard and fast I shot.

“Depends. Be specific.”

I stare at him.

“What did you like about it?”

“Christ, Niles. I don’t think this is the right place for this, do you?”

He pouts. “I’m just curious what it made you feel.”

“It made me feel unhinged,” I tell him honestly, but a little forcefully. “It made me?—"

He leans forward. “Tell me.”

I rub a hand over my face. “It made me feel like I wasn’t tethered to my body. Like I could lose control and do things I really shouldn’t want to do.”

“You wanted more?”

“So much more.”

“Like?”

“I wanted to kiss you…” My unintentional confession comes out breathy and desperate.

His smile fades into something softer. “Then why didn’t you?”

“Because if I did, I would have been lost. I’d lose every bit of control I’ve got left.”

He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but someone calls his name. The moment shatters. Before he walks away, he turns to study me, like I’m a puzzle to figure out, then gives me one of his deadly smirks and says, “For the record. It was you. It was always you. Then and now, you’ve always been my dream.”

Later that night, my phone buzzes. I know it’s him before I look.

NILES: Meet me at the treehouse.

There’s zero hesitation on my end, I’m practically tripping over my own feet to get outside fast enough. Weston is in his room gaming, so at least he’s not here to see me behave like a jackass. Ican’t help it though. The words he said earlier have been running through my mind on repeat.

“It was you. It was always you.”

It’s dark out, and humid. The air is heavy enough that my T-shirt clings to me, sweat sticking to my skin as I push through the overgrown trees between our yards.

I haven’t climbed this thing in years. I know West and Niles still use it occasionally, just to avoid going the long way around, but I don’t remember the last time I’ve been out here.

The old wooden slats creak under my weight, but they hold.

When I haul myself onto the platform, I see him. He’s sitting cross-legged, with a blanket under him, and fairy lights strung around the railing casting everything in soft gold. His face lights up when he sees me.

I shuffle over and sit, leaning back against the trunk of the oak tree, heart hammering.