skin appears wan—a feat I didn’t realize was possible. He looks like he’s been hungover for the last day and a half. And maybe he has.
“I’m sorry, Winnie,” he says without preamble. “I almost don’t remember my behavior on Saturday night. But long, terrible sequences came back to me yesterday, while my head was hanging over the toilet. I’m absolutely mortified.”
I cross my arms, more to stiffen my resolve than because of any anger. He deserves every bit of my annoyance, but I can’t help but soften at his obvious misery.
“Did you get in trouble?” I ask. The reason I never saw his parents Saturday night was because they weren’t present. Mama informed me that she ran into the Tongdees at a local restaurant. I don’t blame them for wanting a quiet meal, but their absence at a wild high school party seems awfully trusting.
Taran nods sheepishly. “By the time my parents got home, I was passed out on the bathroom floor. They didn’t even try to move me. My mom just threw a comforter over me, and I spent the night on the cold tile.” He shrugs. “It was the first time I ever drank. My dad said my hangover was probably punishment enough, but they grounded me anyway. Otherwise, I would’ve come over yesterday.”
“Seems reasonable enough,” I say, my voice as stiff as my spine.
“The punch doesn’t excuse how I treated you. I’m not saying that.”
I sigh. The alcohol’s definitely not an excuse, but I’m suddenly so tired of being mad. The amount of energy it took to maintain my animosity toward Mat was exhausting. Now that Mat and I have finally crested the hill of forgiveness, the last thing I want is another enemy.
Besides, Taran did apologize. And it only took him thirty-six hours, instead of four years. That’s something.
I drop my arms. “I hope you apologized to Julie, too. I don’t know what went down between you two, but it probably wasn’t appropriate, given the circumstances.”
“Nothing happened, I swear. She was never waiting for me. I just said that. The truth is, I stumbled to the bathroom and went to sleep.” He shakes his head. “My first party at Lakewood, and not only did I get trashed, but I wasn’t even awake long enough to enjoy it.”
“Serves you right.” A smile ghosts over my lips.
“The important thing is: do you forgive me?”
“Might as well. I mean, life’s too short to hold a grudge.” My words may be flippant, but the wisdom cuts deep. That’s a lesson I wish I learned four years ago. But I can only move forward now and not back.
“You’re still mad.” He places his hand on the jamb, which makes me realize the door’s been open way too long. Mama’s a stickler for closing entryways—a lingering habit from her years in Thailand, where homes are cooled room by room—so I gesture for him to come inside.
“Is it because of that Julie comment?” he asks once I shut the door. “I swear to you I just made that up to make you jealous. I’m interested in you.”
I give a short laugh. A few days ago, I would’ve died to hear such a confession. Now, I feel almost nothing. “The point is moot. You’re too new in town to know about the Tech girls. Like I alluded to the other day, I’m not allowed to date. At least, not for real.”
He raises his brows. “Really? You and Mat seem awfully close. I know you said there was nothing between you, but he’s always around.”
“It’s complicated.”
“I like complex.” His eyes are warm, his face earnest. I can’t help but smile. For all his faults, Taran has an uplifting effect on people.
“Long story short. My sisters and I weren’t allowed to date in high school. But then they got to college and refused to consider the notion of getting engaged. So, Mama decided that I need to practice my relationship skills.” Never have air quotes been so exaggerated. “And Mat’s the person she’s picked for me to practice with.”
Laid out like that, the situation sounds ridiculous. But that’s Mama for you. “So unless you want to sign up to fake-date me, I’m a lost cause,” I say wryly. “I appreciate the interest, though.”
He leans against the wall, unfazed. “In that case, would you like to be friends?”
“Friends?” I test out the word on my lips. “I could go with that.”
He sticks out his hand, and we shake on it.
Papa walks by the foyer at that precise