Page 26 of The Equation of Us

Sadie:Depends on whether he wants to be climbed like a tree.

I groan and pull my pillow over my face. Tomorrow is going to be excruciating.

But a small, traitorous part of me wonders what he’ll say. What he’ll do. Whether he’s thinking about me right now, the way I can’t stop thinking about him.

I wonder if maybe, just maybe, my humiliating mistake might force us both to acknowledge what’s been building between us.

And despite everything, that thought doesn’t feel entirely terrible.

Chapter Ten

Calculated Surrender

Dean

I read her text for the twentieth time since last night.

Fine. Maybe I was. But have you SEEN him on the ice? The way he moves is almost illegal. And when he gave that rare smile? I wanted to climb him like a tree.

My thumb hovers over the screen. I should delete it. I should forget I ever saw it. I should maintain the careful boundaries we’ve established.

Instead, I start typing.

Me:Meet me at Blackwood Trail. The lookout point. 7 p.m.

I hit send before I can change my mind, then toss my phone onto my bed and run a hand through my hair.

This is a bad idea. This crosses every line I’ve drawn for myself. But I haven’t been able to think about anything else since her text came through last night.

She was watching me. At practice. When she was supposed to be anywhere but there.

And from the sound of it, she liked what she saw.

My phone buzzes with her reply.

Nora: OK

Just that. Two letters, no punctuation, no explanation or excuse. But somehow those two letters feel like the beginning of something neither of us can take back.

Blackwood Trail winds through the wooded area at the edge of campus. Most students know it for the parties that happen at the clearing near the entrance, but few venture all the way to the lookout point—a small clearing that offers a view of the valley and the lights of the town below. It’s quiet. Private. Far enough from the dorms that we won’t run into anyone we know.

I arrive early, as always, and find a flat rock to sit on while I wait. The evening is cold but clear, the sky deepening to indigo above the tree line. My breath forms clouds in the air.

What am I doing here? What am I going to say to her?

I haven’t planned this out, which is unusual for me. I operate on control, on knowing every variable, on anticipating every outcome. But with Nora, all my careful systems seem to fail.

I hear the crunch of leaves on the path before I see her. Then she emerges into the clearing, bundled up in a navy blue coat, a cream-colored scarf wound around her neck. Her cheeks are pink from the cold, or maybe from the climb. Her hair is loose around her shoulders.

She stops when she sees me, remaining at the edge of the clearing like she’s considering turning back.

“You came,” I say.

“You asked me to.” Her voice is steady, but I can see the tension in her shoulders, the way her hands are buried deep in her pockets.

“I wasn’t sure you would.”

She takes a few steps forward, then stops again. “I’m sorry about the text. It was meant for Sadie.”

---