word hesitantly, trying to imitate how he’d said it.
“It’s the Jewish symbol for life. Two letters of the Hebrew alphabet. Together, that’s what they mean.” Gus looked at me in wonder. “Am I Jewish?”
I shrugged helplessly. “Maybe? I’m not religious at all, so I wouldn’t know.”
“Right.” He laughed. “Mr. I-don’t-celebrate-any-holidays-except-ones-where-I-feel-bad-about-myself. How could I forget?”
“Alright, let’s not get diverted here,” I said, feeling way too seen by that comment. “We figured out something important about you. Does the tattoo trigger anything else in your memory?”
Gus stared off into the distance for a long moment, then frowned. “Ugh. I don’t know. Right when you asked that, I swear for a second, I saw a girl’s face, someone looking at me in a tattoo shop. But then it was gone.”
“That’s great.”
“No, it’s not great, it’s fucking frustrating. I don’t know who she is. The tattoo artist, my friend, my sister? I don’t know what her name is, or what my name is, or where the hell I got the tattoo, or if any of that is even real or just something I read in a book sometime.”
“It’s still progress.” I tried to sound encouraging. “You’re remembering more of the dream each night. You’re getting little bits and pieces. Sooner or later, it’ll come together.”
Gus smiled slyly. “You know, last night’s breakthrough could have come because of my sleeping situation. Maybe we could try it again and see what happens tonight?” He stepped directly in front of me and ran a finger down my sweater. “We could try what came after the dream again too.”
His finger hooked through one of the belt loops on my pants. I cleared my throat and made myself step back.
“No, we can’t.”
“Why?” Gus’s tone was guileless, genuinely confused, and I didn’t blame him. But I still needed to do this.
“We just can’t.”
I made my voice harsh, and looked away. It was hard enough to do this without looking into his eyes. Trying to do it with eye contact would be torture.
“That’s not a reason,” he said, shifting so that I was facing him again.
“It’s a no. Isn’t that enough?” I made my gaze withering, my tone disdainful. “Why do you always have to push so much?”
“I don’t know, maybe it’s related to why you always feel like you have to be such an asshole,” Gus shot back. “I don’t get it. You had fun last night. I know you did. And I had fun too. So what’s changed?”
“Nothing’s changed. But last night shouldn’t have happened in the first place. That’s the problem.”
“But why?”
“Because it was wrong,” I groaned, mad at him for making me explain, mad at myself for getting us into this situation, and mad at the universe for putting someone as irresistible as Gus in my life in the first place.
“Don’t give me the ‘you’re too young’ thing again. We’ve been over that.”
“Not to my satisfaction.”
“I have a tattoo, don’t I?” Gus pointed out. “You can’t get those until you’re 18.”
“That’s not the point. You’re my guest. You have amnesia. I’m holding all the cards here, and you can’t possibly say yes to something of your own free will when there’s such a power differential.”
“Oh bullshit.” He gave me a stubborn look. “I think we both know me well enough by now to know that I’m the sort of person who gets off on a power differential. I think we know you do too.”
“We don’t know anything about you,” I snapped. “That’s the problem.”
“It’s only a problem if you make it a problem. I don’t see why it has to be one.”
“Well too bad. I don’t give a shit if you think you consented. I don’t consent to it happening again, and that’s that.”
“God. Fine. Fucking fine. Have it your way.”
Gus spun around and stomped away, but his foot fell through a patch of snow that went deeper than he realized, and he stumbled. I grabbed his arm to keep him from falling, and he winced.
“Does your shoulder still hurt?”
Guilt pooled in my gut as I remembered the way I’d manhandled him last night, moving his arms where I wanted, telling him where to put them. I hadn’t even thought about his injuries.
“It’s fine,” Gus said.
“Why do I feel like you’re not telling the truth?”
“I don’t know, maybe it’s because you’re such a habitual secret keeper that you think everyone else is too.”
“Gus—”
“Just leave it, Holden. It’s fine.” He turned around, but didn’t walk away.