“What are you doing home so early?”
He doesn’t answer the question. His dark eyebrows lower slightly. “Am I interrupting something?”
“No. No, of course not. Steve was just being a friend.” My chest and belly have exploded in flutters. It feels like a crisis all of a sudden. “Is everything all right? How was your meeting with Dr. Mead?”
“Fine.” He gives his head a little shake. “Fine. I’m going to... go change clothes.” The last words are mumbled, like he’s saying the first thing that comes into his head. He turns around and strides toward the hall.
I sit frozen for a few seconds.
Steve’s eyes meet mine. “Did he think... you and I...?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “Surely he wouldn’t... He knows we’re nothing but friends.” I stand up with a jerk, all my crisis instincts sounding the alarm. “I’m going to go talk to him.”
“Yeah. You should.” Steve gets up too. “I’m going to take off.”
“You don’t have to—”
“No, it’s fine. I’ve got some stuff to do tonight anyway. We’ll talk later.” He gives my arm a light punch. “Go fix this. And while you’re at it, maybe go ahead and tell him how you feel.”
I make a noncommittal noise, too distracted by what’s happening with Damian to decide whether I can do as Steve suggests. Steve grabs his stuff and heads out as I walk down the hall toward Damian’s room.
His door is half-open, so I push my way in without knocking. Despite what he said, he hasn’t been changing clothes. He took his shoes off, but otherwise he’s wearing what he had on before. He must have just flopped onto the bed in what looks like exhaustion because he’s sprawled out sideways, staring at the ceiling with his legs hanging over the side.
“Damian?” My voice breaks as I see him. See how beat up he looks. “What’s wrong?”
He lifts his head slightly but then apparently gives up, letting it fall back to the mattress. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. Where’s Steve?”
“He took off.” I come over and sit on the foot of the bed beside him, reaching out to stroke his thigh over the worn denim.
“He didn’t have to leave. I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen him.”
“I see him every day. He had stuff to do anyway. Damian, what’s the matter? You know that... that Steve and I... He’s like my brother.”
“Yeah.” He turns his eyes to my face and gives me a little smile. “I know.”
“Then what’s going on? You look like... I don’t know. Like something is really wrong. Steve and I weren’t doing anything.”
“Clarke, you’re allowed to do anything you want. I know how close the two of you are. I know what he means to you. You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
They’re exactly the right words. Damian couldn’t have chosen them better if he’d planned them in advance based on relationship manuals. But they’re still wrong. They feel wrong.
They don’t feel real.
“But I want to explain.” I’m so upset now that my throat is hurting. “It seems like you thought something was going on—”
“I didn’t think that. I know there’s nothing sexual or romantic between the two of you. I know it, Melody.”
Melody. Why the hell is he calling me that?
“So you’re not... I mean, you don’t think I’d do anything... with someone else?” I hate the stilted sound of my words, but it’s the best I can do.
“No. I know you wouldn’t. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
I should feel better. It seems like he wasn’t jealous of Steve after all. But that doesn’t explain why he seems to have collapsed on the bed like this. Why he can’t seem to lift up his head.
Reclining beside him, I reach over to take his hand in mine. “What’s the matter, Damian? How did your meeting with Dr. Mead really go?”
“It went fine.” He sounds so, so stretched.
“Tell me the truth.”
“I am. It was fine. He gave me some good advice. I think I can... I think I can make it work.”
“Okay. That’s good then. What did he say you need to change?”
“I need to—” He cuts off the words with a soft groan. “Oh, I just need to make some changes to my central argument. Then I can make the chapter work.”
“Your central argument? Won’t that mean rewriting the stuff you’ve already gotten done?”
He chews on his lip before he admits, “Yep.”
“Shit. Is it going to be a lot of extra work then?”
He still won’t meet my eyes. “I can do it.”
“I’m