Chapter 32 (1/2)

“Yes, a little.”

I’m waiting to make the decision until I talk to Kimberly and Christian in person. I heard from her this morning, and she said they will be leaving England on Thursday. I’m still trying to figure out how it’s only Tuesday. It feels much longer than two days since I left London.

My mind goes to him and what he’s doing . . . or who he’s with. Is he touching that girl right now? Is she wearing his shirt again? Why am I torturing myself with thoughts of him? I’ve been avoiding him, and now I can see his bloodshot green eyes, I can feel the tips of his fingers brushing across my cheek.

I was both hurt and pathetically relieved when I found a dirty black T-shirt while rummaging through my suitcase at Chicago O’Hare. I started off looking for my phone charger and ended up finding his last blow. I couldn’t bring myself, no matter how many times I tried, to walk over and throw it into the nearest trash can. I couldn’t. Instead, I shoved it back into the suitcase and buried it under my clothes.

So much for a clean break, but I’m giving myself a break, given how hard all this feels. How my entire world has been ripped apart, and I’m left alone to sort out the pieces . . .

No. As I resolved on the plane, I won’t indulge in such thinking. These thoughts are getting me nowhere. Feeling sorry for myself only makes it worse.

“I’m leaning towards New York, but I need a little more time to decide,” I tell Landon.

“Good.” His smile is contagious. “We would leave in about three weeks at the end of the semester.”

“I hope so.” I sigh, desperately wanting time to pass. A minute, an hour, a day, a week, a month, any time that passes can only be a good thing for me at this point.

And so it does, time passes, and somehow I find myself moving along with it. The problem is, I haven’t decided if that’s a good thing or not.

Chapter seventeen

HARDIN

Opening the front door of the apartment, I’m surprised when I find all the lights on. Tessa usually doesn’t keep them all running at once; she’s a stickler for keeping our electricity bill low.

“Tess, I’m home. Are you in the room?” I call out. I can smell dinner in the oven, and soft music is playing on our little stereo.

I toss my binder and keys onto the table and go in search of her. I quickly notice that the bedroom door’s slightly open, and then I hear voices snaking out through the opening, as if riding the music out into the hallway. The moment I hear his voice, I shove the door open with anger.

“What the fuck!” I scream, the sound booming through the small bedroom.

“Hardin? What are you doing here?” Tessa asks as if I’m intruding. She pulls the comforter up to cover her bare body, a faint smile resting on her lips.

“What am I doing here? What is he doing here?” I point an accusatory finger at Zed, who scrambles off the bed and begins pulling his boxers on.