Page 98 of Do You Ship It

It was never Jake.

The shock sets in, turning me cold all over. My body doesn’t feel like mine; it’s leaden and heavy and when I fall back half a step, I see Jake’s hands drop back to his sides more than I feel it happen.

I’m not even sure which of them I’m talking to when I say, ‘You’re not Runic Rascal.’

Jake says, ‘Who? Cerys, what’s …?’

I force myself to look at Max. ‘You are.’

Max gulps. Audibly. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down in a hard knot, his jaw clenched so tight now that it strains all the tendons in his neck. He inhales sharply, but again, doesn’t manage to say anything.

‘Oh my God. Oh, I – I don’t …’ Another step back. Another. I bump into a table, and there’s a clatter of some game pieces toppling over. Someone asking if I’m okay.

I don’t knowwhatI am.

I don’t think I know anything at all anymore.

So I do what, apparently, I do best in this sort of situation when faced with a mess of my own making: I leg it out of there.

CHAPTER 32

‘Cerys!’

I’m hyperventilating. I don’t even know who’s shouting my name. I stumble out on to the damp cobblestone street, lungs clawing down thin scraps of cold air through the vice locked around them, and I keel forward, hands on my thighs, trying to make the world stop spinning, or falling apart, or whatever it’s doing.

It’s not Jake. It wasn’t Jake.

The kiss – that kiss –Max…

And Anissa, mentioning ‘Runic’, and I assumed she meant Jake becausetheywere always talking and hanging out, and why shouldn’t it be Jake?

I’m mentally scrolling back through months’ worth of conversations in Discord, all the things we talked about – me andMax– and suddenly so much else starts to make sense. Why ‘Jake’ didn’t invite me overto watch the season finale, why he ghosted me after I asked him to forget about the kiss because – God, no, I askedMaxto forget about the kiss, not Jake, I said ‘friends?’ with a goddamnsmiley face– no wonder he didn’t want to talk to me after that!

I have been themostcolossal idiot.

I haul down another sharp breath, the cold slicing through me, blade-sharp, and straighten up. People are looking, staring, but for once, I don’t care.

‘Cerys,’ says the voice again, and when I turn, it’s Jake.

His hair is damp, and there’s rain spotted on his glasses. It patters down around us; my own face is wet with it, too. I hadn’t even noticed.

It’s exactly as it should be. A movie-worthy scene.

‘I thought it was you,’ I say, not sure how to explain, how much to explain, about what’s going on. ‘You sent me a link to Discord, and I joined, and you started messaging me – or – or Max did, and I thought … All this time, I thought I was talking to you, and when you wouldn’t text me back, we were still talking there, so … And …’

There’s just one huge, vital missing puzzle piece I don’t understand.

My face crumples, and my voice is thick through the lump in my throat. ‘Where did you go, Jake? You’vebeen acting weird with me since college started. I thought the Worlds Beyond con, all the OWAR stuff – I thought that’d get us back on track. And then after the party – after … You just disappeared on me. You’re my best friend, and youvanished. I thought you’d forgiven me, and we were okay when we were talking again in Discord after New Year’s, but – it wasn’t you, and … Maybe we aren’t okay? I don’tunderstand.’

Jake’s chest heaves, and his mouth twists into a thin line.

‘You were so upset when you caught me snogging Max at the party,’ I press. ‘You said, “How could you?” and I thought … I’d had this unrequited crush on you for ages, and then I assumed from your reaction that maybe itwasn’tso one-sided but now I’d ruined my chance. I thought I broke your heart, or something, which was ridiculous when I thought I was falling in love with you, too, and –’

‘I didn’t have a crush on you, Cerys.’

‘Well – well, that’s fine, that’s –’ Actuallynotthe soul-destroying blow it should be, but I don’t have time to think about that right now. ‘But then I don’t understand why –’

‘I didn’t have a crush onyou, Cerys,’ he says again, but this time, I hear it.

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