Solving for Ex

Chapter 31

 Droplets of rain dripped off the tips of his hair and onto his shirt. My eyes drifted down to his chest, where his shirt clung now, sopping wet and heavy. For two solid seconds, we breathed in and out at the same time.

He licked his lips and blurted out, “Vincent is a total tool. I should have seen it, and—he’s just a tool.”

I caught a breath between my lips, and looked at him through half-narrowed eyes. “Yes…”

“It’s just that he hurt you. And I hate that. Ash, I—”

“No. He didn’t.” I pressed my lips together and shook my head. “He didn’t. I’m just happy I don’t have to deal with him anymore.” 

Brendan’s eyes focused on my face in the strangest way, and his voice changed to something lower. Softer.

 “When you said that, at the competition. About everything being right there in front of me and me not being able to see it, or refusing to pay attention to it, or whatever…you weren’t talking about Mathletes, were you?”

I twisted my hands together. My mouth did this weird thing where it wanted to break into a goofy smile that didn’t match my emotions. I forced it from turning upward, forced my whole head down. “I was talking about Mathletes,” I said.

Brendan’s face fell. Oh, God. Oh, Jesus. He was disappointed. If I was ever going to have a chance at telling him with certainty, without completely embarrassing myself, this was it.

“But that’s not the only thing I was talking about.” Something about that short sentence knocked the wind out of me. I struggled to fill my lungs.

He didn’t say a word. I couldn’t stand it anymore. All the anger and all the confusion would gather up in a ball in my chest and propel me toward him. I’d tackle him right there on the front porch.

That’s when a deafening crack ripped through the sky right above the house. I must have jumped a foot. And that marked the moment when we couldn’t just stand there anymore. I either had to leave, or tell him how I felt. There was nothing I needed more in the world than to be near him right then. Even if I’d wanted to turn around and stalk off across the front lawn, like I had so many other nights, I couldn’t.

Then, thank God, he said something. “Can we get out of the rain?”

I nodded dumbly and followed him.

He swung the door open to a dark house. Our steps echoed on the shining marble floor.

“Where are your parents?”

“They’re meeting some friends for dinner in the city. I’m sure they’ll get so trashed they’ll just stay there. Again.”

He tossed his bag at the bottom of the steps just like any other afternoon, and I reflexively sidestepped it. He kept going, up to his room. Just like a normal evening.

Except this wasn’t. This was so far from normal, even the tips of my hair felt electrified.

But as we moved through his house in the same path as always, a strange calm overtook me as well. We made it to his room, and the perfectly made-up bed that was always my seat invited my beaten, exhausted body to sit down. But I didn’t. Couldn’t. I was too wired, between the competition and screaming at Sofia and the rain and Brendan’s rain-soaked shirt and his weird, same-as-always but definitely-not-the-same mood right now.

Brendan crossed to his dresser and pulled out a clean T-shirt. Then he stood there, facing away from me, letting the dry shirt dangle from his fingertips.

“Listen, Brendan, I’m sorry I…”

“Would you just shut up and let me talk for once?”