Wrecked(88)

These aren’t her clothes.

She isn’t this girl.

This didn’t happen. Tonight. This night didn’t happen. This couldn’t happen.

No.

Somehow the woods end. She recognizes things. The bell tower in the distance. She points herself at what she knows. Her legs obey. She wants nothing more than her own room. Her bed. This night to end.

These are not her clothes, and she isn’t this girl. No. Not her. She begins to run. Jenny runs as fast as she can in someone’s broken shoes. She imagines she can run from this night. Outrun this night.

No.

. . .





41





Haley As Haley and Richard leave the Hard Math Café shortly after Jenny, Haley finds herself checking behind the swinging doors for Carrie and Co., Richard’s crack from before in mind.


“All clear?” he jokes, watching her.

“Get out of my head,” she says with a laugh. “How did you know?”

“Because it’s what I was thinking.”

They step outside into a blast of raw November air. Leaves scudder along the sidewalk. It’s only midafternoon, but already the promise of a four--thirty sunset creeps over the horizon. She instinctively moves closer to him. He wraps one arm around her shoulders. They head toward her dorm.

Her ride leaves in about an hour. Then it’s a four--hour drive home and a four--day Thanksgiving break. She’s not looking forward to seeing her mom, but luckily the house will be packed with relatives. Cute little cousins. Aunts in the kitchen making pies. Her uncle’s sausage stuffing. She can do this. They’ll make it work.

And when she gets back, there’s this Richard person waiting for her.

“So what’s your favorite Thanksgiving side dish?” she asks.

“Totally, without question, gloppy green bean casserole with the fried onion rings on top,” he says.

She stops despite the cold and pulls away from him. “That’s just so wrong. Next you’ll tell me you like the cranberry sauce out of the can.”

“And served intact on a plate, so you can still see the rings.”

Haley moans in mock--horror. “I don’t know if I can date someone with such lowbrow taste.”

He smiles, steps in close, and pulls her toward him. “Sure you can,” he breathes into her ear. “Because you eat Fritos.”

She bursts out laughing. Yes, she thinks, I do. And yes, it’s one of those dumb embarrassing things he knows about her and finds endearing. And one of their first inside jokes. The first of many inside jokes to come.

Richard hugs her against the wind. She hugs back. Maybe she’s a hugger, after all? At least this way. With him. Yes, she is. This huggie girl. Woman. All of the above.

“I’m freezing,” he says.

“Want to go inside?”

He nods. Yes.

The dorm is emptying out. A few students push past them in the hall lugging huge duffels. You’d think they were leaving for a month.

“Have a great break, Haley!”

“See ya.”

“Later, guys.”

They enter her room. It still looks bare without Jenny’s things. Richard slips out of his jacket.

“When are you heading out?” he asks.

“I have to be outside the union in an hour.” Haley’s coat comes off as well.

Richard steps in close to her. “That gives us a little time.”

“Time for what?” She moves her face close to his so he doesn’t see the warmth spread on her cheeks. She’s like a human thermometer—so embarrassing.

He lifts one hand to her brow, weaves his fingers through her hair. He combs her hair back from her face. His eyes are inches from hers.

“I think this is the part when we kiss,” he says.

He says this so quietly, she’s not sure what she’s heard. But then his lips are on hers, gently at first, then pressing, warm, and his meaning is clear. His face feels scratchy, like fine sandpaper. He smells like soap. Like cold wind. Like damp earth and dry leaves.

When the kiss ends, Richard draws back, slightly, and looks at her.

“Is this okay?”

Haley’s mouth opens slightly as she leans forward, her breath mingling with his. Yes. She hears a foot scrape as he shifts closer. His lips part as they move against hers, and . . . yes. Like a sigh. Like a secret. Like warm melt.

Yes.

“Yes.”