"What do you think stars are made of?"
"Fire."
"I think they're made of glitter! Can we go to space? And how does the moon follow us everywhere?"
"It doesn't. It's really far away."
"No, it's following! I can feel it. Do you think the moon gets lonely up there by itself?"
"It's got the glitter stars for friends, Jellybean."
ᖴO᙭
The dark quiet of the city is all wrong.
I'm running through the deserted streets, legs pushing, each hit against the pavement matching the pound of my heart. The night air is sharp, biting against my skin, but it's what I need.
I pick up the pace, chest aching, but it's not from the run. Not these days.
Three days since Noah's speech. Three days since Chris looked at me like I might have something to offer her.
The night after the Thesis Masterpiece/Clusterfuck, I went to the gym. I pummeled the bag until my hands throbbed, skin rubbed raw from not fucking bothering with gloves. By the time I collapsed on the mat, the world was pitch black, empty, the only sound my own ragged breathing. I slept there, lying on the floor.
But I saw Chris the next morning and I swear it was like a fist tightening around my heart. She was making breakfast with Noah, handing him eggs, handing him butter, handing him utensils. Okay, so Noah was cooking. But she was there. She noticed me and smiled to call me over, but I saw the hesitancy in it. That was the first day I felt a thin wall slide between us.
I didn't stay for long that day—Cam dragged me back to Skyfall. We went out early, back to the gym, back to run drills. She's been arranging my big match. The one to draw people from the state to see. It's going to be a few hours away in an arena crowded with people rooting against me, with a fighter called Angel. So Cam's got it in for me again.
The next day, Chris asked if I'd walk Charlie with her. I couldn't say no. I didn't want to. We talked about the most trivial crap I could come up with—study spots, upcoming fights, even butterflies.
She looked at me like she can see through me. I told myself over and over it was just a walk, that it didn't mean anything, but stepping beside her, watching her light up at kids on the street and birds pecking crumbs from the sidewalk—it did something to me.
We haven't had sex in... I think the last time was a week ago. It's been walks, talks, sad smiles and half-hearted laughs.
I hate it. Not the no-sex part—everything else that's missing.
Faro's the one with control over his feelings for people. Gwen's the one who doesn't have feelings for anyone. I'm a bleeding heart.
My feet hit the pavement harder, faster, like I can leave it all behind. I round the block, take another lap, but then I'm back at the apartment with sweat dripping down my back, hot skin chilling in the night air.
Circles—all I ever do is run in circles.
I make my way inside with my key card, and up the elevator, my footsteps echoing in the silence. No one's up. They never are.
Inside our apartment, it's dark. The lot of us are sleeping. There's not a sound.
I head for the shower, stand under the water, feeling it pound against my skin. I lean my head against the tiles, let the water run over my neck, and try to think. But that doesn't work either.
YOU ARE READING
Beside
Romance''Tell me how it feels,'' he whispers. "Good," I gasp, my entire body trembling. Deeper. Harder. Perfect -- like we've been doing this for years. His hand finds my jaw, fingers firm as he tilts my head up, making me look at him. And that's it. Wav...