Page 182 of Hide and Keep

“You decorated?” I point at his lamp. It’s on, but there’s a black shirt draped over the shade, making the room a deep sepia.

“No. I was, uh… I was trying to make it darker in here.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” He puts a hand in his pocket. “Oh, before I forget.” Pulling out my amethyst bracelet, he passes it over to me. “I noticed earlier I still had this one.”

“Thanks.”

I put it on, a calming energy immediately falling over me, then pull the sleeves of my crewneck over my palms, my fingers curling to keep them in place as I spin in a slow circle.

“You need anything?”

I almost ask him for something ridiculous just to see what he says. But the mannequin head catches my attention. Its hair is different than when I was in here early this morning. And beside it is a plate full of untouched food.

“Is that your dinner?”

The barest hint of acknowledgement echoes in the space between us.

“You weren’t hungry?”

Crue has a hand on his head when I face him again, but he quickly drops it to say, “I guess not.”

“You didn’t realize you didn’t eat?”

“No.”

He doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands either as he lifts, then lowers them, his fingers clenching and unclenching. What’s the matter with him?

“Are you sick?” I ask.

“Terminally.”

That makes my lips pull to one side.

Quieter, he adds, “At least that’s how it felt.”

I nod, understanding…but not. I know how tonight felt for me. How did it feel for him? He sat in his room safe and unmolested. He even got his dinner hand-delivered to him where he could’ve enjoyed it without a leering audience.

What part of that made him feel like he was dying?

I start to turn back around when one of those hands shoots out, pointing.

“But I did practice.” He goes over to the mannequin, showing me his work. “For you.”

My eyes meet his. “Next special occasion, I know who to go to.”

“I’m not there yet, but I could do your hair right now. If you want?”

I’m already shaking my head. “That’s okay. I don’t—”

“Nothing elaborate. I could just… I don’t know. I could put it back for you…so it’s not in your face while you work.”

“I can manage a ponytail by myself, Major,” I whisper.

“No, I know.” He runs another hand over his nodding head. “I know you can. But, uh…” That hand falls and Crue lets me see the vulnerability I thought I heard in the hall. “I want to do it for you.”

“Why?” comes out even quieter.

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