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Evan
"Just trust me, okay?" I beg Lane to go along with my lie until after the food.
Lane shakes his head as Jordan and Nat appear. They both look a little exhausted, and guilt rips at me. Midnight has come and gone. My fantasy is over now. Only I’m not ready to admit it.
As Nat said, I either disappear or fess up.
“I don’t know, Evan. Jordan is... sensitive.” Lane nods at Nat, but he’s running his fingers along the tablecloth. I see small, neat letters of various sizes written across the surface. The words do the opposite of what they say. They don’t hold me up or keep me afloat. They drown me in the unfairness of it all. “He feels people’s pain as his own...”
I can’t answer as Jordan slides in next to me and grins. I return the gesture, but Lane’s white-hot laser vision burns me. Jordan feels people’s pain as his own. I believe it. I have no doubt that Lane is right.
It doesn’t help me. Wouldn’t the smart thing be to not tell him at all? To let him believe I’m happy and healthy and just some girl he had a one-night fling with?
“You’ve met my brother,” Jordan says, but he doesn’t touch me like he has been all night. I feel the space between us. Inches, but it’s feels as if we are separated by a void. A black hole of lies. I don’t like this feeling. I want to be closer to him.
I don’t want to keep pretending like I’m some carefree person who snuck out on a Friday night because I’m not. Nothing about me is carefree. My life is carefully curated to keep my body from giving up on me. No matter what lies I tell Jordan that doesn’t change my truth.
I will never become who I’m pretending to be.
I bite my lip and struggle to keep my feelings from bursting from my chest like a solar flare.
Jordan introduces Lane to Natalie, who does her best to pretend she doesn’t know what’s going on. She’s not a bad actress; I’m just so familiar with every twitch, tick, and shift in her face that my stomach lurches. I feel crappy—all around, inside and out, a crappy person.
The clanking and clattering of silverware on dishes clutters up my brain and helps drive up my discomfort. Jordan absently pops blueberries in his mouth, and I look over at Lane. He’s right.
I hate that he’s right.
“I promise,” I mouth and his demeanor softens.
A little.
12:47 AM
“I can’t eat another thing.” Nat shakes her head, leaning against the hard vinyl. The scrape of silverware against plates is deafening while everyone sorts out their dirty dishes. I thought one order of everything was ridiculous, but there's not a bite of food left on any plate.
"Now what should we do?" Hector stretches his hands up and then places them on his shaved head.
"Sleep? Go into a food coma?" I ask, slumping down in my seat. Nate and Steve both slap the table at the same time.
"No way. We're pulling an all-nighter," Nate says, following Hector's lead by stretching. "We fly out to London in the morning, and the time difference is going to kill us. We need to stay up."
"Cool! Why London?" Nat takes a sip of coffee, which she almost never drinks, and leans forward on the table. She's also way more interested in this than she should be. She's never been interested in travel. Only marriage and then a honeymoon. Maybe her split with Aaron has driven her to the other side of the spectrum. Maybe she'll backpack through South America after graduation instead of say her vows. Honestly, I hope she does.
"We have to meet with an exec there for our contract. Then we have a couple shows before we come back for the big American Tour," Hector starts, and Jordan shifts in his seat. I’m interested in what Hector’s saying, but Jordan’s mouth so close to my ear it’s hard to concentrate on anything (including breathing).
"Hey," he whispers. I tune out everything around me.
"Hey." I smile against his cheek.
"Wanna get out of here? Go for a walk? I drank way too much coffee. I’m buzzin’."
"Sure." My heart stutters for so many reasons that I'm thoroughly confused. I want to be alone with him, but being alone means I have to tell him. Lane glances at me as I stand and to hide my nerves.
"Where are you going?" Nat asks with as much concern in her eyes as Lane has. I feel like I'm going to prom, and they are my overprotective parents. Actually it does remind me of my actual overprotective parent on actual prom night, and not even my prom.
"You have your pills?" Dad had asked as I stood in sneakers and a boring dress that came up high around the neck to cover my surgery scars. My date, Riley Cavenaugh (a senior that I'm sure Nat bribed to take me so she wouldn't be the only sophomore at the prom) stood on the porch, his features tilting to fear at the mention of pills.
"Dad..." I made a face at him with my back to my date.
"Nat will be there? I will call to remind you at nine twenty. Don't dance too much, and remember to drink lots of water." Dad was rambling as I shoved Riley down the steps, his eyes still flickering around.
Riley spent most of that night with Jackie Hennie. I was totally okay with it. Actually, I’m sure I suggested it.
"We're going for a little walk. I need to settle these pancakes." Jordan rubs his stomach before stretching his arms up over his head. His hoodie lifts up. I see the skin that I ran my hands over earlier, and my heart wobbles. I think I'd like to do that again—touch him. I know I’d rather do that than come clean about why I’m here.
I pinch my lips together, my gaze flickering between Nat and Lane, wanting to be reassuring. I'm going to tell him.
Now.
Maybe.