Her hand moves higher up my leg.

"I could help you forget her," she whispers.

My eyes narrow.

Realization sets in.

Then a thousand fucking emotions run through me. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything," she says, smiling again.

"Are you into me? Like into me. Did you ever want to be more than just friends? The whole helping me study and all that shit—was there more to it?"

She looks away for a moment, as if contemplating her next words. "I kind of thought I made that obvious."

My eyes shut.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Her hand on my leg squeezes once.

She says my name again.

And now I know what Lucy felt all those times I read her—that calmness she felt, the one right before the storm.

I open my eyes, the booze doing nothing at all for my now clear head. "But you knew that I loved Lucy, right? I mean, I never said or did anything to make you feel otherwise. There was never a time where I made you actually think that I'd choose you over her."

Her eyes search mine when she speaks. "It was just a matter of time," she says with an unjustified confidence. "You and me—we're the same people. She's different than us, Cameron. She's better than us. People like you and me belong together. For her—you were just a phase. A hobby. A moment of slumming."

"Shut up!" I clip.

She laughs in disbelief.

If she were a guy, I'd punch her. "You don't know shit about us—or our relationship. You don't know anything." I shake my head and stand up, and then I release the storm. "You took advantage of me, Roxy. You knew I needed help and you became that, but I had no fucking idea you had ulterior motives. Maybe to you, what you were doing was obvious, and maybe I'm naive, or maybe I'm just so in love with another girl that I never even noticed it. I never thought of you like that. Not once. Not even for a second. But you're right about one thing—she is better than me. And I'm the luckiest asshole in the world for having her and keeping her for as long as I did. So whether or not things work out with us—just remember that it had nothing to do with you. You didn't win. I won't let you."

Her eyes thin to slits. She opens her mouth to speak but I cut her off. "I'm going to my room. You have five minutes to get you and your whore clothes out of here, and if you don't, I have no issue kicking your fat ass out the door."

I walk to my room and slam the door, then lean against it and drop my head between my shoulders.

I try to level my breathing. Try to settle my nerves. Try to find that calm again.

Because she worked out the one insecurity I've always had but never let myself voice.

*

A half hour later, there's another knock. I don't bother getting my hopes up this time.

Minge stands on the other side with a six-pack of beer. Like I need any more beers.

"Yo," I say.

"'Sup." He sniffs the air. "You smell like expired feet."

I open the door and sit on the couch, my favorite place in the entire world.

"I brought beer as an apology," he says.

"Why are you sorry? Because Lucy left me? That's not your fault."

He sets the beer on the table and sits on the recliner. "No, because I was buzzed last night and told that hot chick, Roxy, where you lived."

"She's not hot," I bite out.

"Maybe not Lucy standard hot but for me she's hot."

I don't respond.

"Anyway," he adds. "I just thought I'd come by and say sorry, and warn you that she might show up soon."

"She already has."

"Oh shit. How did that go?"

I ignore his question and drop my head in my hands. "I need to speak to Lucy."

"Have you called her?"

I face him now, sighing loudly as I do. "I'm scared."

"Why?"

"Because what if she doesn't answer? Or hangs up on me? And I'm not there to see her face, to know what she's feeling, then I'll spend the rest of my life wondering why she did it... I think I need to see her, like, in person."

"And you don't know where she is?"

I shake my head.

"Well... I mean you've known her forever. You know all her friends and family. She said she was going to the airport, right? So where could she be going that she needs to fly there?"

I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to stop that thumping in my head. And then it hits me. "Fuck. I need money for a plane ticket."

He doesn't skip a beat. "I have money."

"What?"

"Yeah, I have money. Don't let these shitty clothes and bad hygiene fool you," he laughs. "How much do you need?"

"How the fuck do you have money, you don't even have a car."

His eyes roll. "I'm a free spirit. Save the environment, all that shit. Although, I do need to rent a car for a couple weeks. You have a car. I could just rent yours. It's kind of like fate, huh?"

Even though I suspect he's talking shit—for a moment, I actually consider the possibility. But only for a moment before reality sets in. "I can't," I say, pissed off at the world. "I gotta work on Monday."

"So, today's Saturday... that means you have tomorrow. Where do you plan on flying?"

"New Jersey."

He smiles.