Say the Word(27)

Could it be that he was lonely? That, despite the popularity, despite the media attention his family drew — he was somehow alone? Unsure of himself, of who he was beneath the photoshopped image of Sebastian Covington that the rest of the world saw on magazine covers and news footage?

If so, that was something I could understand. Obviously not the fame or the attention, but the sheer loneliness of self-containment. The isolation of never letting down your walls, never letting your happy mask slip.

I’d been alone for a year without Jamie by my side. Sure, I still had him on weekends and during our brief after-school visits at the hospital. But it wasn’t the same. And a part of me was beginning to accept that it would never be the same again. Jamie was fading, slowly. Each day, each surgery, each round of chemo took him a little further away from me.

And that was a burden I shouldered all by myself.

I cast a glance up at Sebastian, who was staring down at me. Tentatively, I squeezed his hand and watched, mesmerized, as a smile bloomed across his face in response. He gave my hand a gentle squeeze in return and was opening his mouth to say something when a voice boomed across the courtyard, stopping us in our tracks.

“Sebastian! Come to The Grill with us,” Amber called in a syrupy-sweet, arsenic-laced voice. Her dismissive gaze swept over me like a slap, and I tried not to let it bother me that her invitation wasn’t extended in my direction.

“Not today, Amber,” Sebastian called back.

“I know you don’t have anything better going on.” She smirked, planting one hand on her hip in a suggestive pose. “And I’ll make it worth your while.”

I felt my cheeks flame with embarrassment — I’d clearly misread Sebastian’s intentions. I’d been foolish to assume that the coffee he’d given or the smiles we’d shared meant anything. Girls like Amber — who wore the right clothes and came from the good families — would always win. It wasn’t even a contest.

Already anticipating the dejection I’d feel when he walked away, I unlaced my fingers and started to pull my hand from Sebastian’s. His grip tightened immediately, locking our fingers together firmly so I had no hope of disengaging.

“Actually, Amber, I do have something better going on,” he tossed out casually, and I watched as Amber’s smirk became a look of shock. “You’ve met Lux, haven’t you?” Sebastian added.

I could hear the smile in his voice, but my eyes were still trained on Amber. She’d stopped feigning sweetness and was glaring at me with the full brunt of her malice. She didn’t bother to reply, instead turning around with an audible huff and storming away with a silent Nicole close on her heels. We stood in silence for a frozen moment, neither knowing quite what to say to the other.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I murmured. “You should go with them. They’re you’re friends.”

“Hey,” he said, reaching under my chin and tilting my face up to meet his eyes. “I already have plans. Not with a friend, because this girl I’m with – she’s pretty stubborn and she hasn’t agreed to be my friend just yet. But I’m not worried. I’m persistent. I’ll wear her down eventually.”

I cracked a smile. “You seem pretty sure of yourself.”

“Well, Freckles,” he whispered eying the lightly-spackled bridge of my nose. “I’m Sebastian Covington.” His grin was rakish, his posture confident.

“Freckles?” I wrinkled my nose in distaste at the endearment. “That’s not a nickname.”

“Too late.” He laughed boyishly.

“Seriously, there’s no need dub me with a constant reminder of my imperfections.”

“They aren’t imperfections. They’re cute,” he insisted. “I have a thing for freckles.”

I rolled my eyes. “Let’s go, weirdo,” I said, walking toward the parking lot and tugging Sebastian behind me. There was a warm feeling spreading though my system, and as I let my eyes skitter over to meet his, I couldn’t help but grin — a full-out, happy, no-holds-barred grin — for the first time in months.

“Thanks,” I said. “For Amber.”

“Believe me, Lux — it was my pleasure.”





***


“No way,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Why not?”

“You shouldn’t even be in here! In fact, I specifically asked to be dropped off at the front doors!”

“Yes, and?”

“And now you’re standing in front of my brother’s hospital room, acting like you’re coming in to visit with me!”

“Right, and?”

“And don’t you see the problem with that?”

“Nope.” He was grinning again. I growled in frustration. The boy was intolerable, really. In the space of thirty minutes, I’d gone from infatuated to indignant — no doubt some kind of record.

“Bash, you can’t come in with me. Jamie doesn’t know you. And it doesn’t make any sense for you to visit!”

“So you’re saying Jamie doesn’t want company?”

Ugh. He had me there. Jamie was always looking for company. He was bored stiff in that room all day, so any novelty was welcome. Several times, I’d caught him charming the candy stripers into neglecting their shifts and staying for extended visits, but that was probably just because he liked to look at their cute little red uniforms.