Boys of West Denton ✓

chapter twenty-one

harris

Sebastian and Saanvi leave after a couple movies and a few games of Parcheesi that felt less competitive than usual. I didn't have the energy to stir up my usual trouble, I guess. Probably why things felt so boring. And maybe a little tense.

I feel twice as terrible than I normally would have, though, simply because I was off. Grandma noticed, Saanvi noticed, and Seb? Seb noticed. He couldn't keep his eyes off me the whole time, and it wasn't in a cute or hot or yayyy way. He was concerned. So concerned, he kept moving game pieces that weren't his, and kept not hearing when Saanvi and Grandma would try to correct or cajole him.

I heard them all in the bathroom too. I wanted to go catch my breath, and so there I am in Mom's bathroom, focusing on the little pink and yellow tiles we grouted together right before middle school started. Sitting on the toilet with my pants still up, my head in my hands, clutching my hair with fists. Trying to breathe. I just wanted to breathe.

Nothing happened. Nothing happened. Nothing happened.

Get the fuck over yourself, Harris.

Nothing. Happened.

Quit overreacting.

Nothing.

Happened.

"He's out of it tonight, huh?" Saanvi says. She's met with a moment of weighted silence.

Then Grandma says, "Yeah. That Liam boy dropped by earlier. You kids wouldn't happen to know if anything happened between them, would you?"

Another beat of heavy silence, then Seb says, "I ... no. I don't think so."

I left the bathroom pretty quickly. Just to be safe.

And now, they're gone, and Grandma's asleep in the guest room, and I'm tucked into my own bed, still in my pajamas despite the intense layering of blankets going on atop my usual duvet. I'm usually a pretty hot sleeper, but right now, I can't seem to get warm.

The hairs on my arms are raised. Goosebumps have popped up along my skin. I'm sweaty, yes, but this is just ... not the shit. Something is off. I don't know what it is.

It'll be quick, I promise.

Liam.

Maybe ... maybe that's it.

I roll over onto my other side. I want to know what happened that night, in a very, very small way. Everything is a blur. I think I could recall more the morning after than I can now—and even that hadn't been much. It feels like watching things in double speed and slow-mo all at once, the frames of reality meshing and blurring together to the point that I'm not sure anything is real. Sound doesn't sync up, things are fuzzy, and all I can really remember is the harsh burning of some kind of strawberry drink at the back of my throat. That, and the weird bulging feeling in my chest as I tried my best not to throw up.

I almost want to ask Seb exactly what happened that night. I could ask Saanvi too, but we're not as close yet. I like her for sure—definitely a lot more than Liam—but there's something about Seb that makes me trust him intrinsically. Even if Saanvi would probably be a little bit more blunt with what went down at Elana Doorsey's party, Seb wouldn't hide anything from me. And he'd be gentle. Sweet.

Not that I think there's much to tell. Or much to want to know, rather.

My phone is at two percent—I'm too lazy to plug it in right now—but I can see a multitude of missed texts from Evan ... and Liam. I decide I'll respond to Evan's later. I'm a little scared to open Liam's.