Faking It (Losing It, #2)(48)

I put in more hours at the library, stayed longer after class, and volunteered to help with random stuff around the theatre department. You need someone to organize that storage room that no one has opened in years? Sure!

You need someone to build that prop? Gladly!

I made it my goal to be the best in every assignment, in every class. To be perfect. And as such I demolished my midterms. I just had to fill my mind with enough things that there wasn’t room for her. That was the plan at least, but Max was larger than life and tended to beat out the other stuff no matter how hard I tried. And when classes ended for the holiday, there was nothing left to keep my mind busy.

Near the end of the week, I came home to find Milo sitting on my couch, eating a bag of my potato chips. I hadn’t told Milo what happened because I didn’t want to relive it more than I already had.

I said, “You know . . . I gave you that spare key for emergencies, not so that you could come in here and mooch my food.”

He swallowed the graveyard of chips in his mouth and said, “Where the hell have you been all week, Winston?”

I threw my bag in a chair and shrugged off my coat. If he was going to try to get me to some bar or club or anything, I wasn’t up for it. I headed to the kitchen and said noncommittally, “Around.”

He stood but didn’t follow me into the kitchen.

“You all right?”

I opened the cabinet to get a glass, and said, “Yeah, why do you ask?”

“I saw her, Cade.”

My whole body tensed, and I nearly dropped the glass I’d gotten from the cabinet. I took a deep breath and opened the fridge to grab the pitcher of filtered water.

I let the fridge block my face as I asked, “Her?”

“Quit bullshitting me, hermano. Be real with me.”

My hand shook as I poured the water.

“What? We had sex. She left. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not that big of a deal? I will fingernails scrape pushed owlmy call bullshit on that so many times that the word bullshit will lose all meaning.”

I sighed. “What do you want me to say?”

I took a drink and set my glass on the counter.

He shrugged. “Well, you could start by telling me how it was.”

I saw red, and was halfway across the room before he cried, “Whoa, man! Kidding!” My ears were roaring, and Milo was standing on the futon with an arm stretched out between us. “I think I’ve proved my point about this being a big deal.”

I exhaled slowly and rubbed a hand across my face.

“You want me to say I’m miserable? Fine. I’m miserable. Are you going to make me take some more dumbass shots? Because that’s not going to cut it. Just drop it.”

Milo whistled. “It’s about time you got angry.”

“And getting angrier by the second.”

He asked, “Did you go after her?”

I took a deep inhale and exhale, but that only made me think of Max.

“No, I didn’t go after her. What’s the point?”

“The point is to call her on her bullshit like I’m doing for you.”

I shook my head. “I think her leaving was a pretty clear indication of how she feels.”

She knew I wouldn’t go after her. She knew I didn’t chase people. And she’d left anyway. That was a pretty glaring indication that it was over as far as I was concerned.

I was done with this conversance, atand I knew I m





31

Cade

Max, wait!” I didn’t really know what I was saying until the words had already left my mouth. “What time do we fly out?”

She turned, and something I couldn’t decipher flickered in her eyes. I’d been trying so hard to remain ambivalent, to not let her presence get to me, but I just couldn’t.

The look of shock on her face was pretty spot-on for how I felt. The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted it. But for some reason when she asked, “We?” I didn’t back out.

I looked at her wide blue eyes and said, “If you still want me to go, I’m in. I made you a promise, and I’m going to follow through.” Even if it killed me.

She crossed her arms over her chest, and surveyed me. I kept my face passive and my body relaxed. I didn’t want her to think this was a ploy to get her back. It wasn’t. This charade had been really important to her, and if she thought she needed me to face her parents, I wasn’t going to let her down. I was afraid if I didn’t go, she’d keep right on pretending.

“You would do that for me?” she asked.

I was a little afraid to examine what I was willing to do for her.

I weighed my words carefully before saying, “We made a deal. I would do it for anyone.” I swear she winced, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from telling her the truth.

She swallowed and nodded. “Okay, then. Um, thanks. We fly out Sunday morning at eleven.”

“Okay. I’ll come early, and we’ll catch a cab to the airport.”

“Right, well, I’ll see you Sunday then.”

I watched her go for few minutes before returning to the rec center.

Bad idea didn’t even begin to describe what I’d just done.



Over the next few days, I kept finding myself being drawn back to that airline ticket. Sometimes I would just stare at the numbers—dates and times and flights—until they stopped making sense. Other times I would hold the ticket in my hands and concentrate, as if I might be able to feel her intentions behind it just by touching it.