Page 91 of Palm South University: Season 3

I KNEW SHE WAShere before I even heard the knock.

It was a gentle rap of the knuckles on my window, nothing more, no demand or urgency in the sound. It was a soft, regretful notion, an apology, a plead for forgiveness. It struck me to the bone when I heard it, so much so that I’m still lying here in my bed, eyes on the ceiling, heart pounding hard in my chest as I work up the courage to go to my window.

I heard about what happened between her and Grayson the day after Semi-formal, and two things struck me at the same time — one, the need to run to her, to hold her, to make her okay again — and two, the outrageous and uncontrollable urge to break Grayson’s jaw.

I’d wanted to give into both, but I’d stayed strong, doing neither. I knew Cassie well enough to know she wouldn’t want me to run to her before she was ready to see me, and a small part of me wondered if she ever would again. She’d chosen Grayson over me, and although I wanted to believe she didn’t have a choice, that she didn’t want to, it still hurt. It still felt permanent.

And as much as I would have loved crushing my fist into Grayson’s face, I knew that wouldn’t have made Cassie happy, either. It would have only made things worse for her.

So, I’ve waited, my hope fading like a dying glow stick of light with each passing day. I leave to spend winter break at my aunt’s house tomorrow, and I’d almost given up on Cassie.

But here she is.

Kicking my sheets off, I pad over to the window in just my boxer briefs, pulling the string on the blinds until I’m standing face to face with the only girl I’ve ever loved and hated simultaneously. I love everything about her, but hate the power she holds over me. The sweetest contradiction.

She’s standing in a simple, white tank top and plaid sleep shorts, her hair tied up in a mess of curls on top of her head as her swollen eyes take me in. I reach down, heaving the window open, the light breeze of the night sweeping into my room as I stare at Cassie. She watches me, too, lip quivering as she shrugs and lets out a long sigh of a breath.

I just reach out with both hands, helping her climb inside just like I did almost exactly a year ago to the day.

And just like last time, she kicks off her Keds by the foot of my bed, climbing into it first and pulling the sheets up to her shoulders. I slide in behind her, hesitant at first until she reaches back for my arm, pulling it around her middle. With a relieved sigh, I pull her closer, fitting my body to hers and holding her tight.

“You were right.”

The same three words she said to me last year, and they hurt just as bad this time around.

“I wish I wasn’t.”

I squeeze her a little tighter, fitting us a little more together, hoping she feels some sort of comfort from the fact that I’m here.

“I’m so sorry, Adam,” she whispers, her voice breaking on my name.

Only the moon lights up my room, but it’s enough for me to see the first tear slide down her cheek. I catch it with my thumb, wiping it away before pulling her even closer. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

“You always are.” She squeezes her eyes closed. “I don’t deserve it.”

“You’re always here for me, too,” I remind her. “Even when I’m an asshole.”

She twists in the sheets to face me, one hand pressed into my chest as she looks up at me. “I just left you there. I let him make me choose. I gave you up, and for what? To keep a relationship with a guy who was cheating on me for months.” Two tears escape one right after the other, chasing each other down until they drop to my pillow. “I was miserable without you, Adam.”

I swallow, my chest aching as my hand finds her hip, resting there. “I was, too.”

“I’m not crying because of him,” she says, waiting until my eyes are locked on hers again before continuing. “He hurt me, yes. But not as bad as I hurt myself by making a decision I didn’t want to make, one that I didn’t believe in. I’m just so sorry. Please, please forgive me, Adam.”

“Shh,” I whisper, pulling her into me and pressing a kiss into her hair. “It’s over, we’re okay. I’m here.”

Cassie fists her hands in the sheets wrapped around us, digging her head into my chest. For a while I just hold her there, one hand pulling strands of hair from her hair tie as I run my fingers through it, the other rubbing soft, slow circles on her lower back.

“What now?” Cassie whispers into the darkness, her breath on the skin of my chest.

“We don’t have to figure that out tonight.”

She stiffens in my arms, her breathing nearly stopping altogether as she pushes away from me just enough to lift her head. I look down at her, too — our lips just centimeters apart as she searches my eyes with her own. I swallow, gripping her waist with one hand just as she closes the space between us, her lips finding mine on a sigh.

If time was a train, this is what it would feel like for it to slam on its brakes.

I’ve waited so long to touch her again, to hold her, to kiss her that it almost feels like a dream. It’s as if my body isn’t my body, my hands aren’t my hands, my lips aren’t my lips — like I’m watching it all from above. I wince as her mouth opens for me, my tongue sliding in to meet hers, and that’s when the reality hits me.

She’s here, she’s in my bed — in my arms.