name on tickets when you try to use them. Or, if you want the actual answer, I was kind enough to have Shane steal your passport so I could get these for you.”
“I’m going to Florence? You’re taking me to Florence?”
“You’re catching on. I talked with Dani and Ajay, and convinced them we could use a Tuscany trip next month. I for one definitely need this. A light week of classes, followed by a lovely weekend with …” He pauses. “My boyfriend?”
I didn’t think he could top the flight. And with one word, he’s topped it with a label I’ve wanted to have attached to me for years. I’ve wanted a boyfriend ever since I could remember, but I’ve never allowed myself to feel like this.
But Pierce isn’t like anyone else. He’s not your run-of-the-mill high school boy. He’s not a super-cool, established man. He’s somewhere in between. And that’s where I’ll meet him, somewhere in the in-between.
“It sounds like you’re being presumptive.” My gut lifts in my stomach as I talk. I feel weightless. I feel at ease. “But if you’re asking, yes. Yes, I’ll be your boyfriend.”
I take his hand, and he stares straight ahead. The smile never leaves his face. Nor mine.
We make good time for the rest of the trip. I’m late. Later than I thought, but as we come into London, my chest eases, and for the first time I think, I’m coming home. About a place that isn’t Kentucky.
“Shit,” I shout as the realization hits me. “I should have told Shane I was coming back. Is it weird to just barge in? He could have someone over.”
“Or I could have someone over tonight.” He pauses. “You, I mean. That was an odd way to say it.”
I say nothing.
“Do you want to stay with me tonight?”
I smile. “I do. As long as I can use your Wi-Fi to call Megan.”
It’s a weird feeling, going to someone’s apartment for the first time. Wales was fun, but it was neutral territory. So far outside our normal lives that it felt incredibly normal to share a bed—I mean, if I hadn’t, I’d have shared with Sophie. So I might as well sleep with someone I can spoon.
We take the elevator to the fourth floor, and walk through the hall to get to his door.
I’m immediately jealous of his flat. It’s not huge, but it’s all his. It smells of tea and him. The kitchen’s spotless, and I don’t know if that’s because he never cooks or he’s just a neat freak. He takes me on a tour of the flat, from living room to bedroom (and nothing in between), and sits on the couch. I take a seat next to him, and he hands me a card with the overly complicated Wi-Fi code on it.
I type it in, and the anxiety levels start to increase. She’s going to be pissed. But if I can just get her on the call, I can explain. She’ll understand. She’ll have to behave if Pierce is on the screen anyway.
The phone connects. I stop breathing. I wait for the hate mail to show up. But nothing does.
I breathe a sigh of relief.
But then I get a call. On the app that gives me free calls over Wi-Fi. I only gave my number to a handful of people—the ones who didn’t have iPhones and couldn’t FaceTime, basically—but the app doesn’t search my contacts for the number, and who memorizes phone numbers? So I answer it.
“Hello?”
I’m greeted with cheers and music and yelling.
“Finally. Um, hey,” Skye says. I can barely hear him over the commotion in the background. “You made it back.”
“Yeah, Skye, I’m so sorry. Should I FaceTime Megan now or—what’s that noise?”
Over it all, I hear his breaths. They’re panted, uneven. “I, um. It’s not. Well, we’re at the bonfire.”
“Megan? At a party?”
This is a first. I should be impressed, but I’m unsettled.
“Why are you calling me? Isn’t this using your data?”
“It’s worth it. I needed to talk to you about this.” He sighs; the crackling of the fire takes over my phone.
I stand and pace the floor. I bite my lip. I want him to spit it out, but I can’t force him. That won’t help.
“Is she pissed at me?”
“More than that. I literally don’t know how to say this to you. Fuck.”
“Skye.” My voice is as solid as I can make it. I know Skye doesn’t say “fuck.” “What’s going on?”
“You’re not out to everyone, right? Like, this is still