𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝑾𝒆 𝑫𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝑺𝒂𝒚

Chapter Twenty-Seven

(Sometime Later)

Elizabeth lay beside me, nestled on the soft, white carpet of my dorm room floor, her gaze fixed intently on the cactus plant we had just purchased from a nearby small business next to the diner.

"It needs a name," she declared, breaking the comfortable silence that had enveloped us during the walk back. We tossed around names, but none seemed to meet her approval.

"How about Spike?" I suggested, turning my head to catch her eye as I lay on my back, knees bent, hands resting on my stomach.

"Hmm," she hesitated, her gaze still fixed on the cactus, her legs lifted slightly as she lay on her belly, head propped up on her arms. Another rejection. Her narrowed eyes seemed to intensify our dilemma.

As we debated the fate of a mere plant, I found myself staring at the ceiling, feeling the hours slipping away. She tapped a sharpie against her lips, lost in thought.

Maybe it was boredom that led her attention to me, or perhaps it was the silence on my end. Suddenly, I felt her take my hand and lay it out on the carpet.

Her boredom led to the vandalization of my skin. I heard the pop of the marker, before she rolled up my sleeve and then the smell hit my senses.

I watched as she drew a little cactus cartoon with a mustache and cowboy hat on my arm. Another couple of taps on her lips, and I could almost see the light bulb light up above her head.

"Lester," she declared, writing it out on my arm.

"No," I objected.

"What? Why?" she protested. "That's a great name."

"Yeah, maybe for a mu-les-ter," I slowly pronounced the name to her so she would understand. She just scoffed and slapped my arm. "What? I'm just trying to protect our baby cactus from being bullied at cactus camp," I joked in a serious tone.

"You suck," she teased, pulling my sleeve back over and sketching on the fabric. With anyone else, I might have protested, but not her. Never her. She drew our initials with a plus sign between them, forming a heart around it. Finally, she pressed her lips to the symbol, sealing it with a promise of eternity.

"Jar Jar Prickins," I rattle off another.

—

The unnamed plant sat on my desk as we headed out to a bonfire thing Viviette had mentioned. We walked in a group, with Vince initially claiming he didn't want to go, but Wes managed to talk him into it. It seemed like Wes had a knack for persuasion when it came to our little friend.

I wasn't sure what Lizzie had planned for the night, but her clinginess was making it difficult for me to make my rounds.

Everyone was here, and everyone was in the mood for a good time. While I wasn't exactly the life of the party, I did provide the supplies that made the party worthwhile.

A quick handshake exchange with Manny resulted in me pocketing two hundred-dollar bills. As I turned around, I nearly collided with—

I glanced up to meet Sloane's disgusted expression. She didn't look well, clutching a solo cup in her hand. "You won't make her happy," she spat at me.

I rolled my eyes, attempting to step past her, but her words followed me like a shadow. "You'll never be good enough for her."

"Sloane, you're drunk," I said, my tone tinged with exasperation. "Why don't you go home?"

Pushing through the crowd, I made my way back to the others. I could feel Sloane's gaze burning into my back, and before long, Lizzie intercepted me halfway.