“Oh,” he says, eyes dropping. “We’ll figure something out.”
He kisses me one last time, then releases me, walking one way down the aisle while I go the other. At the end of the row, I turn the corner and rest my back against the endcap, taking the first deep breath since I saw him standing there.
Reyn loves a shiny object, something new and off-limits, but wanting to make plans? That’s not a quick grope in the stacks.
That’s not delusional.
Sydney: Heard Reyn was kissing someone in the stacks at the library. Guess he’s back in the game.
I stare at the text for a long moment. We hadn’t spoken since our fight earlier in the day, but Syd obviously can’t resist what she thinks is a harsh blow.
“Who’s that?” Dad asks, glancing away from the window. He came to pick me up from school after the softball game was over.
“Just Sydney.”
“How’s she doing?”
“Oh, you know,” I say stiffly, “drama never stops chasing her.”
He smiles. “She does seem to have a penchant for that, doesn’t she?”
There’s a weird prickle of pride that runs through me when I look down at the message. I was the one kissing Reyn. I’m the one that got a tattoo and was asked to join a secret society. I know that Sydney thinks I’m still the same boring girl she’s always stuck by, but I’m not. Not anymore.
The message stares at me, and although the last thing I want to do is encourage a discussion about who Reyn was kissing in the library, ignoring it seems like a defeat.
Vandy: Reyn in the library? Sounds like mistaken identity if you ask me.
Dad passes Jerry, who waves us through the gate. It makes me think of Reyn and his ongoing feud.
Honestly, everything tonight has made me think of Reyn.
He pulls into the driveway and I notice that Emory’s big truck isn’t there. Dad said they won their game, 76 to 12. I’m sure he’s out celebrating. After he parks the car in the garage, I get out and see Firefly’s tail in the hydrangea bush. I look over my shoulder and say, “Just a minute. Let me go catch the night stalker.”
The garage door shuts behind him and I drop my bag on the driveway. Poking my head into the bush, I see Firefly, then a set of hands pulling him out the other side.
“Looking for this guy?” Reyn asks, holding the cat against his chest while stroking down his back.
“I was.” I tilt my head. “What are you doing out here?”
Reyn pauses, and it’s too dark to make out what his eyes hold, but I can see the silhouette of his parted lips. “I’d probably seem a lot cooler if I said I was getting something out of the car, but I was actually just waiting for you to get home.”
Those warm butterflies spin in my stomach again. I take a step closer and open my mouth to tell him that I’m glad he did, but the garage door opens again.
Dad calls out, “Everything okay? You find the cat?”
“Yes, Dad!” I yell, a little too loud. Firefly jerks back, offended at my volume. “Coming!” I turn to Reyn, grimacing. “Sorry. I have to go.”
I see the flicker of disappointment—irritation, maybe—in his eyes. I push up on my toes and kiss him quickly, hoping to soothe it away, and then take the squirming cat from his hands.
“Night,” I whisper, hoping maybe he’ll kiss me again, but he just nods, eyes settled on the house behind me.
Great, I think, dropping Firefly by his food bowl and refreshing his water. He’s probably pissed off, or frustrated, or realizing that I’m basically a prisoner and having second thoughts. No—third thoughts. Maybe even fourth thoughts. It’s hard to forget that this thing I’ve got going with Reyn is fragile. Any little thing could burst the bubble.
I tell my parents goodnight, pulling out my phone as I ascend the stairs.
V: Sorry. I told you my parents hover.
I wait for a moment on the staircase, hoping for a response. It never comes.
Paranoia nags at me as I walk into my room. I’d told him that I’m not a kid, but sure enough, that’s exactly how everyone is treating me. Now, I look like some silly girl with no freedom, home on a Friday night, locked up tight by her well-meaning parents. I kick off my shoes, push down my jeans, and look at the tattoo on my inner thigh.