Little Lies(93)
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“I figured you would when you were ready.” So much makes sense about the past couple of months—the not coming home, his excessive reclusiveness, the distance between us. “And now that I know, maybe we can do the double-date thing. Or at least you can bring Josiah here.” I bolt upright. “Oh my God. That night Josiah was here to help me with econ, were you two already a thing?”
River’s cheeks go red. “Uh, yeah. I was kinda surprised to see him, to be honest—and worried he was going to out me.”
“Wow.” I relax back into my pillow. Part of me wants to feel hurt that they’ve been going behind my back this entire time, but I get why it’s been difficult for River. He’s always been guarded with our dad. I used to think it was because of me, but I realize there are far more layers to my twin that he’s kept hidden all these years. “So are you, like, in love with Josiah?”
River shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe? I like him a lot, and he’s been really patient with me. Up until now, anyway.”
“Well, if you want it to work, maybe you should call him and invite him over so you can talk it through.”
His finger tightens around mine. “You mean here?”
I squeeze back. “It’s a good way to show him you’re serious and that you care, don’t you think?”
“You’ll be around in case things don’t go well?”
My heart breaks for my twin, aware that he carries everyone else’s perceived expectations and his own fear of failure and disappointment around like a burden he can’t shake. And now, more than ever, I understand why it’s been easier for me to be his focus. That way he didn’t have to face his own truth and deal with it.
“Of course,” I tell him. “But I’m thinking if he’s been patient with you up until now, he’ll be willing to hear you out.”
“Okay, I’ll invite him over.” He pulls me into a tight hug and mumbles, “Trampoline.”
“Safe to fall.” I’m glad for once I get to be his soft place to land, instead of the other way around.
Chapter Thirty-One
The Salty Sweet
Lavender
Present day
WEEKS BLEED INTO each other, the holidays quickly approaching. As excited as I am for the break, I’m not really looking forward to two weeks during which I won’t be able to sleep next to Kodiak. We’ve gotten used to spending most nights together, other than his overnight away games or my occasional sleepovers at Lovey and Lacey’s—which often coincide with each other.
Finals are coming up, and even with Kodiak’s help, I’m barely passing my economics course. But at least I am passing, and I’ll never have to take it again after this. It’s a chilly December morning, snow swirling frantically in the biting wind as I head for the quad. Lovey and Lacey are already in the café, and Kodiak and BJ are supposed to meet up with us for coffee before we all go to our next classes.
I duck my head to protect my face from the biting wind. My eyes water, thanks to the way my contact lenses are trying to freeze to my eyeballs. Because I’m looking at the ground and not where I’m going, I run right into someone and lose my hold on my backpack, which was slung over one shoulder.
“I’m so sorry.” I bend to pick up my bag, but a foot comes down on the strap.
I’m looking at a very impractical, heeled boot for this weather. It’s icy and salty everywhere.
“You’re about to be, bitch.”
The familiar voice sends a shiver down my spine, and I slowly push to a stand, reluctant to confirm what I already know. I’m about to have a long-overdue confrontation with Bethany, my very brief former roommate and one of Kodiak’s bunny groupies.
Kodiak never came out and told me exactly what happened, but based on his sometimes voyeuristic and slightly kinky predilections, I have a pretty good idea.
I’ve seen Bethany a bunch of times on campus, but I’ve always been with other people. When I’m with Lovey and Lacey, she shoots me dirty looks, but when I’m with Kodiak, she pretends neither of us exists. Today she’s with two of her friends. They’re all wearing some kind of school gear—although their allegiance seems to have changed to the rugby team.
“You fucked things up for me, for all three of us.” She motions to her friends.
I don’t respond. Not because I can’t, but because I have no idea what to say to that. I don’t understand why anyone would want to be the communal fucktoy for a college sports team. I imagine low self-esteem has something to do with it, but pointing that out probably isn’t going to help my case.
“Kody was mine first. I had dibs. There’s a system here, and you messed with it, and now we’re blacklisted from all the hockey and football parties. You’re not special, you know. They’re all gonna get bored with you. And Kody’s never going to stick with just you. He likes variety. Isn’t that right?” She looks to her friends for confirmation.
They nod their agreement. “We’d know. We’ve all had a piece of him,” the one on the right says.
“Okay, well, that’s just . . . kind of gross, and also probably untrue.” I shudder at the thought. While Kodiak is certainly no saint, he’s also too much of a germaphobe to play pass-the-bunny.