this new game-having Fitzgerald Holton is, he’s left me hanging. Juniper’s studying me, her inquisitiveness ever-present. “How long has your mom known?”
I shove myself off the wall. I don’t fault Juniper for her curiosity, not when I’m the one who brought this up. She’s being kind, expressing real sympathy instead of burying the topic under pleasantries. But even though the only thing I’ve wanted to do for days with Lewis is talk about what’s happening to Mom, and even though this girl is inviting me to do exactly that, I don’t want to. Not right now. Not with Juniper’s eyes on me, with the music pulsing under our feet, with the night waiting outside.
For the first time, I’m not worried about what I’m missing at home. I’m only worried about what I might miss tonight.
“Like you said, we might never see each other again. I don’t want to waste the night dwelling on a disease that can’t be stopped. You’re here to see Brown, right?”
She nods.
I cross the hall to the fire escape. Opening the door, I’m suddenly grateful this frat’s in such an old building the door isn’t alarmed. I turn back to Juniper.
“Then let’s see Brown.”
Juniper
WHILE THE COLD blasts through the open door, I don’t move. I don’t know if it’s really a good idea to follow this boy I hardly know. He seems nice enough, but I’m not dumb. I know what can happen to girls who go off with a guy while college parties unfold downstairs.
But . . . I have my phone. Matt’s downstairs with Carter and would come immediately if I called. Which, of course, I’d do if I were uncomfortable in the least.
“I promise this isn’t a move,” Fitz says, guessing my thoughts. He smiles, and it’s not the predatory grin I would recognize on a frat boy. It’s authentic, disarming. “I’m not the type of guy who makes moves like this on girls. Definitely not on a girl like you, even if I didn’t know you have a boyfriend.”
“A girl like me?” I repeat, not sure if I should be offended.
“You’re out of my league.” He falters a little on the words.
Now I’m even less convinced he’s not flirting. I take a step back.
Fitz stands in the doorway. “You don’t have to come,” he says, his voice softening. “It’s just, this party is nothing special, and I’m on this trip against my will, but . . . it could be worthwhile for the memories. I already know what the future holds. It’s right now that has the potential to be extraordinary.”
His words ring through me. I can practically feel the rush of resonance in my cheeks, my fingertips. I don’t generally live for the now. I live for what I can plan for and dream of. But right now is offering me something I didn’t know to plan. Something that might be worth experiencing.
I grab my jacket and follow him.
He holds out his hand to help me up. I eye him dubiously, hoping to communicate he’s not helping himself with this chivalry crap, and he flushes under his freckles like paint dipped into clear water. His frost-blue eyes dart from mine. But I take his hand. His fingers wrap tightly over mine, and I feel a tingle of warmth despite the temperature.
We walk out onto the fire escape, which looks precarious. But it is a fire escape, intended to support people. It can’t be that unsafe. I drop his hand once I’m on the metal platform and zip up my parka while the cold wind whips my hair. The noises of the party drift up, shouts and cheers punctuating the echoes of the music. We’re both part of the scene and thrillingly isolated, the feeling of being backstage in the middle of a play.
Fitz waits by the stairwell. When I glance over, his eyes hold a question, like he can’t believe I’m really doing this. Or maybe he can’t believe he’s really doing this. Suppressing a smile, I concede to myself his trepidation is kind of cute. If I had to guess, I’d say he never would have imagined himself leading a