Page 119 of Far

My thoughts swirl dizzyingly. I want to run, but his arms keep me close. “I don’t know.”

I don’t know before making sure if you’re Connor or Chris.

Something flashes in his eyes—disappointment? Hurt? But it’s gone before I can identify it.

“I see.” His tone is carefully neutral as we continue swaying to the music.

Neither of us speaks as I try to slow my hammering heart. I don’t know what just happened between us, but the air feels charged with an undercurrent I’m afraid to name.

“So, what kind of music do you like?” I ask.

After a pause, he replies, “Rock, mostly. Alternative.”

Chris liked rock music, too.

“Favorite bands?”

“Tool, A Perfect Circle, Deftones.”

“Do you play any instruments?”

“Guitar. Though I’m out of practice.” He pauses again, watching me closely. “Why the sudden interest?”

I force a shrug, hoping to appear casual. “We’ve been… seeing each other for a while now. I realized I don’t know as much about you as I’d like.”

Chris never mentioned that he plays the guitar. On the other hand, would he mention it if he’s out of practice?

The different eye colors are still not explained. Maybe I’m just hallucinating the similarities. But everything screams at me that he was there with me that night. That it was Connor’s voice. I was blindfolded and didn’t see him clearly, but that made me more aware of his voice.

If he is Chris, it means he’s been deceiving me all this time. But if he’s not, it means losing the connection I’ve clung to all these years.

“Favorite Food?” I ask.

“Chicken Fingers.”

“Favorite Color?”

“Isn’t that obvious?”

“Blue.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because every time I look into your eyes, I feel like I’m home. The warmth, the comfort, the sense of belonging—it allcomes from you. Your eyes are my safe haven, and that’s why blue will always be my favorite color.”

I’m not used to such vulnerability from Connor. He’s normally so guarded, keeping me at a distance even as we grow closer physically.

“That’s really sweet.”

Could Connor even be Chris? Why would he not just reveal himself? Why would he lie?

There are too many coincidences and too many similarities. The first time I heard his voice, I thought it was Chris and the way he kissed me and touched me as if he already knew my body. The biggest difference, and why I must be crazy, are his eyes. Chris has blue ones, and Connor has brown ones.

I want to ask him. I need to know the truth, but I hesitate.

Maybe it would bring us closer together and bridge whatever gap exists between us. But then I catch sight of myself reflected in his dark brown eyes, and I falter. The last time I mentioned Chris, Connor grew irritated, and we argued. I don’t want to spoil this perfect moment.

---