if he has to hold himself to this spot on the earth.
“It’s Hayden,” he says.
My heart rushes with so many chemically induced and heart-wrenching emotions that for a moment I think I might overdose on feelings.
“Did he find out about . . . us?” I keep playing our night together over and over in my head, thinking about how close Hayden’s room was to us, how he could have come home at any moment, how guilty my face must have seemed when he came to my party. He’s sharper and more intuitive than we give him credit for.
“No, at least, I don’t think so. He knows how I feel, but I know how he feels so I guess it’s a wash.” He shrugs, despondent and lifeless. He squints from the sun as he brings his gaze back to me, his words suddenly stalled. I have the power to save him from having to say any more.
“So . . . I’m leaving Wednesday.”
His brows lift and his breath halts for a beat.
“Yeah, I know,” I say, looking down to where his hand is still curved around the edge of the concrete. I place mine on top of it, threading my fingers with his until his grip loosens and he rolls his palm over to completely give me his hand. I play with his fingers, wishing I had the time to really study them, to learn how they look with mine, how they look on me, around my waist and near me while I sleep.
“I got the call last night. Something about budget, and getting my shots early before Jordan has to film something else. The good news is it means I’ll be back for prom and graduation.” I dip my head to catch his eyes again and grin at the word prom. It doesn’t seem to do much for him, though.
“So you’re leaving, for like . . . a while.” He draws in a deep breath and leans back.
“Probably four months. I’ll have a tutor.”
I should be excited about this, but I dread every moment. My big break feels like a crash and burn, and it’s making me rethink my dreams and goals. I’m giving up one of the most important times in my life. I’m giving up this feeling—love. I’m falling in love with Tory, and walking away before it has a chance to take hold.
“Maybe it’s for the best . . . with Hayden and all,” he says, his eyes meeting mine in fits. They’re glassy, but he masks it, coughing and hazing them as he purposely looks back toward the sun.
“Maybe,” I choke out.
“Another time, maybe. Or life. Or maybe our future selves. I don’t know,” he rambles, squeezing the bridge of his nose and holding his breath. He averts his eyes as he stands, and I stand with him, feeling the need to wrap him in my arms and hold him here, to me.
“We’re in warm-ups, and I just slipped out. But you’ll be at the game, right? You’ll stay?” His arm swings out and his fingers latch on to mine, like fragile hooks holding together too much weight.
“I’ll stay,” I promise. I will, and it will hurt. Because I am leaving.
Tory leans in and presses his lips to my cheek this time, pausing there long enough to graze his nose along my jaw and plant one more kiss on the bare skin peeking out from the large neck of my sweatshirt.
“See you after, then.”
Our fingers slip apart and he walks away backward for the first several steps. He turns around to jog, disappearing down the steps to the locker room door, slipping inside and never once looking back.
I talked June into coming to the game. She was the second person I told that I was leaving early, so she hardly even grumbles about having to sit on these bleachers with me. Of all the things I’m going to miss out on for months, time with her ranks as one of the highest.
“One thing I do like about basketball over football is it’s inside, even if it’s crowded,” she says.
“It’s because our basketball team is a million times better than football,” I gloat.
“You’re biased,” she retorts.
We take our seats at center court but in the very top of the bleachers. I learned last time that it’s nice to have a wall to rest your back against. Plus, I kinda like keeping everyone else in my line of sight. You never know where the haters are gonna come