Undecided(67)

“Crosbie,” I say again, but he just shakes his head and disappears back down the stairs. A second later the door slams shut, the icy wind making the candles flutter.

“What the hell was that?” Kellan asks, running a hand through his hair. “I said he could keep the game until tomorrow if he really wanted to.”

I shake my head and blink away the guilty tears stinging my eyes. I should probably let him go. I should probably not follow him into freezing temperatures and beg him to hear me out. I should never have started this in the first place.

But I did.

I run down the stairs, pause long enough to shove my feet into my boots, and yank open the door. The cold air steals my breath but I can see him half a block down. I don’t even think about it, I just start running. The air is so crisp it feels like something might shatter. The faint dusting of frost on bare tree branches flitters down, glinting in the light from the streetlamps before melting into my hair.

“Crosbie!” I shout.

There’s no one else around, no sounds, no cars, no anything. I know he hears me, but he doesn’t stop. If anything he hunches up his shoulders and walks even faster.

“Crosbie!” I pick up the pace. My lungs hurt because it’s cold and I’m not in shape, and I shiver in my thin shirt and leggings, feeling my hair slip out of its bun and flop against my neck

“Crosbie!” I shout. “Stop!” I’m three car lengths away when he finally halts, though he doesn’t turn around. His hands are crammed in the pockets of his jeans and I can see his breath coming out in fast white pants. I’m gasping when I finally reach him, putting my hand on his arm for balance and nearly falling when he jerks it away.

I’m prepared for his hurt, but not the raw anger on his face.

“Crosbie.” My voice cracks on the word. “It’s not—”

“Don’t bother, Nora.” He stares past me up the street, at nothing.

“I’ve been home for two minutes,” I say. “I didn’t know he was planning this.”

“Right.”

“I thought he had a date with Marcela.”

“You said you knew they weren’t into each other.”

“They’re not. They—I don’t know. I don’t know, Crosbie. But I’m not into him. I never will be. This is just really bad timing.”

He shakes his head but doesn’t move. “You wanted to keep us a secret for a reason. It never had anything to do with me or that stupid f*cking list.”

“It did, but it doesn’t now.”

His jaw flexes and his nostrils flare as he inhales. He’s angry, but he’s still here. He’s listening. He wants to believe me.

“I swear,” I add. “I swear. Please don’t…” I break off to catch my breath so I don’t start crying, like that’s the one thing that could make this situation worse. “Please come back with me.”

“Why?”

“So there are no more secrets. So we all have to eat spaghetti together. It’s going to be terrible, but let’s just do it.”

He finally looks at me. “I won’t tell anyone,” he says.

“What?”

“If you’re doing this because you think I’ll tell everyone we slept together, I won’t. If you want to be with him—if you are with him—I’m not going to spread rumors. I’ll get the f*ck over it. Don’t lie to me.”

“I’ve never lied to you.” I swallow past the guilty lump in my throat. A lie of omission isn’t really a lie, is it? “And I’m not afraid of you. I like you. Only you.”

He scrubs a hand over his face and finally notices that I’m freezing my ass off. My arms are wrapped around my still-growling stomach and I’m bouncing on my toes for warmth.

“Where’s your coat?”

“I didn’t stop to get it.”

“Well, you should have. It’s freezing.”

“Well, if it’s the coat or you, I choose you.”

It’s super lame, but his face softens, mouth quirking reluctantly. He looks down at me and believes whatever he sees. “All right, Nora. Let’s go.”



*



Five minutes later we’re sitting at the dining table to partake in the world’s most awful dinner party. I brought out my desk chair for Crosbie while Kellan wordlessly blew out every candle and set a third place. Now we sit in front of three untouched plates of spaghetti and garlic bread, unwilling or unable to meet each other’s eyes.

Kellan’s first to speak. “Seriously?” he mutters, shaking his head. He snatches up his garlic bread and takes a big bite. “You two?”

Crosbie and I look at each other. “Yeah,” Crosbie finally answers.

“How long?”

I nibble at my garlic bread like a guilty rabbit. “Halloween.”

“Hallo—” Kellan’s eyes widen. He gapes at me but points at Crosbie. “That’s who—?”

I know he’s talking about the condom, so I cut him off. “Yes.”

He glares at Crosbie. “You said you banged Miss Washington!”

“Well, she’s from Washington.”

“I cannot believe this. Under my nose.”