Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Once he’s out of earshot, Austin mutters, “I’m over your dumb ideas.”
“What? He took the flower. He didn’t say no, so there’s still a chance.”
He rolls his eyes. “Just take the L on this one. Besides, does it even matter?”
“Guess you’ll never know until you show up.”
“Not only did I knock into the guy once, but I fell in front of him too. Kill me now.”
“He didn’t seem bothered by it.” I shrug. “Whether you realize it or not, you’re adorable.”
“Take your adorable and shove it.”
“I’m sorry,” I reply, feeling like a terrible friend. “Do you want me to stop? Finding opportunities for you, I mean.”
“I just…” He shakes his head. “It’s true that pushing me out of my comfort zone isn’t always a bad thing because I can get stuck, and you know that more than anyone. But maybe instead of springing stuff on me, give me a heads-up?”
I screw my eyes shut because he’s right. Twice this week I saw an opportunity and leaped on it, wanting desperately to help him and hoping for the best. “You’re right. I need to remember you’re more methodical than me, even if I see an opening.”
“Thank you.” He blows out a breath. “Gotta get back to work.”
He heads to the coffee cart, a line forming once again, so I leave him alone, feeling out of sorts.
I throw myself into morning and afternoon classes, trying to ignore that queasy feeling in my gut, before heading back to Poli House.
“I’m famished,” I say to Milo. “Want to head to the dining hall?”
“Nah, gonna go in on a pizza with a few of the other guys. You’re free to join us.”
I consider it briefly, but I’m too anxious to see Austin after the flower debacle. “And miss taco night? You gotta be kidding me.”
He snorts out a laugh because he knows I’m teasing. The campus food is decent, but sometimes there’s what we all call mystery meat.
I head across campus, noting that every person I see is holding a flower. It brightens up the place a little.
After I grab my food, I find two empty spots at a table, waving to Kael, who’s sitting with Angelica and her friends at the other end.
As soon as I see Austin walk in, I stiffen, hoping he’s not still mad at me. Guess I can see why he might be, though, since my last couple of ideas haven’t exactly panned out.
But when I see the flower I gave him pressed inside a book, I smile. He saved it, so he’s at least giving it some thought.
Austin sits across from me with a frown.
“I’m sorry, Austin. I didn’t mean to—”
He cuts me off. “You remember back in high school when they had that flower sale during Valentine’s week and kids walked around with pink roses all day?”
“Yeah, I remember. It was stupid.”
“I only received a flower once in four years, and even that time was suspicious.”
My stomach tightens. “Like I said, it’s stupid.”
“I pretended it didn’t matter, but it did.”
“In the end, it was just a popularity contest.” The football players and cheerleaders would have armfuls of flowers, which was ridiculous.
“You must’ve noticed my disappointment junior year because the very next day, I found a flower stuck between the slats of my locker—a wilted pink rose, to be exact.”
“I plead the fifth.” I’d wanted to see him smile, and it had its intended effect. At least until it dawned on him that it might be from me to make him feel better. He asked me repeatedly, but I never confessed. I wanted him to think someone randomly gave him one.
“I know that fucking flower was from you. I still have it pressed between the pages of one of my favorite books.”
My stomach does this funny dipping thing as my gaze springs to the fake one sticking out of his book now. “Why did you save it?”
“To remind me what a good friend you are,” he replies, then narrows his eyes. “But I’m not so sure anymore.”
“Ouch.” I raise my hands in defeat. “I apologize again.”
He sighs. “We’re in college now. Things are supposed to be different.”
“The only thing different is that we’re adults.”
“Right. And age is just a number.” He picks at his taco shell. “Must be why it feels the same in so many ways.”
“I hear you.” I shrug. “People still form groups based on shared experiences…and you’re obviously in my group.”
“Have you ever wondered about that? What do we even have in common anymore besides being gay and our parents getting divorced?”
“Those aren’t the only things.” I scrunch my face, wondering what he’s getting at. When we lived together, we gamed and watched movies, let alone telling each other almost everything. “Even still, wouldn’t that be enough?”
He shrugs. “Not always.”
Maybe Austin is feeling as vulnerable about our friendship as I am. Why else would he be bringing this stuff up?