months. I brace myself for another blow to the chest—the kind of grief that steals my breath—but instead I find myself exhaling and then refilling my lungs.
This is what it feels like to let go.
I brush his hair from his face, close my eyes, and say a prayer.
* * *
When I get back to the Woodisons’, I feel lighter than I have in months. It’s not the happy lightness of submitting your last final exam or the giddy lightness of having a crush. It’s the weight of a burden lifted from your shoulders.
I’m running late, so I rush to my room to figure out what to wear. My black-and-pink polka-dot sundress used to be my favorite, and I pull it on, step into a pair of flip-flops, and head downstairs to wait for Sebastian.
Arrow’s in the living room, and he stands up when he sees me. “You look nice,” he says, dragging that slow, hungry gaze down my bare legs. “Where are you going?”
The doorbell rings, and I turn to open it without answering Arrow’s question. Sebastian stands there in a pair low-slung jeans and a fitted black T-shirt. He grins at me and offers me the trio of bright yellow daisies in his right hand.
“For the pretty girl,” he says.
I can practically feel the moment Arrow realizes who’s at the door. He comes to stand behind me, and it’s as if the temperature in the house drops ten degrees.
“Hi, Arrow,” Sebastian says, inclining his chin.
I feel a little guilty. This is the guy who’s replacing him, but at the same time, this is the guy who will smile at me. Who will give me the time of day without looking at me like he resents my need to hear his voice. I don’t know that I want to be with Sebastian, but I need a friend.
“Sebastian,” Arrow finally responds. “How are you?”
“Good.” He holds up the flowers a little awkwardly. “You?”
“Hunky-dory,” Arrow says dryly. “Living the dream.”
Sebastian laughs. “Let me know if I can get you anything, okay, man?”
Arrow releases a long, slow exhale and shakes his head. “Don’t be that guy.”
“What?”
“Just don’t be a nice guy. If you want to do me a favor, pretend to be the asshole I need you to be.” He turns around and goes to the stairs, leaving us.
“Well, that was awkward,” Sebastian says, making a goofy face.
I want to laugh over how ridiculous that exchange was, but I’m too confused by the guy walking away. “Yeah,” I agree. I don’t want to think about Arrow right now and wouldn’t know what to think if I wanted to. I grab the flowers and take them to the kitchen, popping them in a small vase with some water before heading back to the front door where Sebastian’s waiting. “You still haven’t told me where we’re going.”
“We’re going to Dad’s shop,” he says. “Come on.”
I follow him to his car and he opens the door for me. I turn around as I start to climb in and see Arrow watching me from his bedroom window, his arms crossed, a frown on his face.
Sebastian follows my gaze. “Should I assume he’s going to punch me in the face the minute he’s no longer on probation?”
“Don’t worry about Arrow,” I say, climbing into the car. “He doesn’t want me.” Our history is too complicated, I think, but I don’t explain that to Sebastian. I don’t have the energy to answer the questions that explanation would invite.
Sebastian grunts. “It’s cute that you believe that.”
I toy with the radio as he drives, and when he pulls into the lot in front of his dad’s body shop, I cross my arms and look at him. “You have me curious,” I admit. “What are we doing here?”
“You’ll see.” He unbuckles and grabs a backpack from the back seat. “Come on. In the back.”
I climb out of the car and follow him around to the gate at the back of the shop. He unlocks it, pulls it open, and nods me on through.
A chrome bumper lies in the grass.
“That’s Coach’s,” he says, nodding to it. “I pulled it out of the scrap pile for you this morning.”
I step forward, my insides trembling as I near the mangled chrome. “That’s it?”
“Yeah,” he says. “And Mia, he hit a deer. I know that without doing anything else, but I know you need some kind of closure on this. I took a chemistry class at BHU last semester. It was called the Chemistry of CSI,