Page 67 of The Other Side of Together

We ease apart and Johnny knocks his elbow against mine, whispering, “Gentleman’s room. Now.”

We weave through the crowd toward the door and when a couple of guys from the team yell my name, I stop to talk then catch up with Johnny. A cold rush of dry air washes over us as we step into the hallway and veer into the bathroom.

“Dude.” Johnny unzips his pants and stands at the urinal.

“What?” I step to the one beside his and unzip.

“You and Tavah?” He gives me a sidelong glance, his popped tux collar jabbing his chin.

“What do you mean?”

“Pff.” He shakes his head. “Kinda cozy, aren’t you? For a guy who pretends he doesn’t know about these mysterious creatures called women but somehow has all the right moves?”

“Got any pointers on how to slow dance without touching?”

“It’s not just the dancing part.” He zips his pants and steps away from the urinal and I meet him at the sink.

“Then what?” I focus on scrubbing my hands.

“You haven’t laughed like this for a while. It’s like you went emo and got all depressed and dark last week, but tonight, you’re all laughing and off in your own little beautiful people world. And dinner?” He turns toward me, his hands soapy. “Talking the whole time, no pauses, sharing food. You took a sip of her drink, dude. I saw. I’m not even at that level with Sav yet.” He rinses his hands, then shakes them dry.

“That’s because you just share spit through direct contactallnight. Why bother with straws?”

Johnny snatches a paper towel and checks himself out in the mirror while I stick my hands under the dryer. “You’re into her,” he calls over the roar. “Glad you’re finally gonna make your move, Miller. Atta boy, that’s all I gotta say. Attaboy.” He flicks my ruffles as he passes toward the door, slapping the wall as we head into the hallway.

We turn toward the soda bar near the gym entrance. “Gonna get the lady a drink. See you back on the floor. Make your move, Miller. Make. Your. Move.” He holds up a finger and tilts his head. “Motorcycle approved, of course.”

I stand, straddling the lit hallway and the flashing, pulsing gym, and swallow guilt. I’ve had a great time with Tavah. I was all worried about the conversation, but we have too much to talk about and haven’t really talked to anyone else. At dinner, we ordered things to share because we couldn’t decide and were starving. And when she scooted closer, I’dchecked out her lips and wondered what it would be like to kiss her now that there’s permanent space between mine and Mei’s.

But I shouldn’t be thinking that about Tavah when last week, I was making out with Mei in my living room, only focused on her mouth and her body rippling beneath mine. Because if Mei called me right now, I’d drop everything to be with her again. But she hasn’t and I can’t keep pretending or hoping. I filled in the D in THE END on my arm just before Tavah came and Mei never showed up to stop me.

My throat burns with tears I’ve shoved down all week, and I close my eyes when my heart curls in on itself to smother the ache. I swear to myself. It’s not possible to go from loving Mei to getting down with Tavah tonight. Unless I never really loved Mei.

No. I know what I feel. It’s boiling me from the inside out. So, what am I feeling for Tavah, then? Felt pretty great before I talked to Johnny. Having her that close suffocated Mei thoughts. Now that I’m not next to her, Mei’s moving through me again.

I push through a group of girls dancing up on their guys. Wave and nod to a few people as I slip around couples curled around each other, girls draped against their guys. Lights flash and I squint into the crowd, looking for Tavah.

I wave away a cloud of weed someone snuck in and edge along the flailing crowd. The rock in my stomach rolls around, and I spot her, dancing with her friends, all shimmery and silky. She’s safe. Comfortable. I could easily slip into something with her. Couple more nights like tonight and I’d be all in. But no way would my feelings for her scare me like my feelings for Mei do. Which means there’s no possibility of them being as big.

Tavah’s completely beautiful and bright and hilarious and smart. She’s everything a guy could want: sexy, confident, honest, even blunt, which I never thought I liked but do.She’s going to Berkeley on scholarship. She has goals. I’m definitely attracted to her. Everyone likes her, and she’s an open book. My body reacts to her. I felt the hormonal flow a few times tonight, like when she fixed my collar or when she pressed herself against me as we danced. She’s all those things plus probably a hundred more.

I keep my eyes on her as she blurs in the dark. She laughs at something another guy says, then does a frantic dance to match the beat, throwing her head back and flipping her hair around.

My heart clenches and I drag in a breath. Tavah is definitely a lot of things but…she’s just not Mei.

CHAPTER 25

Idon’t dare touch anything in the hotel bathroom, afraid I’ll smudge the gold fixtures. If I’d come up with an escape plan sooner, I’d be so far away from here. Even if that far away was also far from Marcus.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I grip the edge of the counter to pull my thoughts back down to the cold, marble floor under my bare feet. The overhead vent blows stale, icy air on my exposed shoulders and my gaping, tattered heart slumps inside me. It beat slower and slower last night in Chef Torres’s kitchen where the ghost of my old dream trailed me, confused and misplaced. Three months ago, my heart would have leaped at all the exciting possibilities. Now without Marcus, it barely beats.

Chef Torres is as detached as the steam billowing above the grills in her sleek kitchen where I’m supposed to spend my summer. No amount of hiding in her kitchen will change the fact that every night during my summer, I’ll have to return to the apartment Nick secured after Chef Torres offered me the internship.

When we got back to the hotel after a late dinner, Nick staggered to the couch and passed out and I’d hurried to myroom, locking the door behind me. All night, I watched time move across the ceiling, afraid I’d hear the doorknob wiggle, wishing I had the guts to take my things and run. But Nick was between me and the door.

This morning, he’d told me through my closed bedroom door that he had meetings most of the day but would be back for the gala. I’d thought for that spark of a moment the gods had answered my prayers. I’d stared at the box of jewelry and pictured myself disappearing with it, but my hope vanished when Nick added that Chaz and Xander would be here all day if I needed anything.

I turn back to the vanity mirror, my eyes tripping over the selection of makeup Nick bought for me. I don’t want to cover up anything; I want him to see exactly how I feel about him. No more pretending.

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