Page 110 of Fighting Spirit

“Ruth!” Marshall calls from behind us. Rowan’s steps don’t falter as he slings an arm around me, keeping us moving.

“You better fuck off back to whatever basement you crawled out of,” Rowan yells without looking back. “Don’t make me break a promise to my girl.”

He guides us around the side of the theatre, and I see his truck parked under a streetlight. “Have you been here the whole time?” I ask, remembering just how fast he got to me after I texted him.

He opens the passenger’s side door and ushers me in until my back hits the cracked leather. “Didn’t have anywhere else tobe,” he grumbles, reaching over to buckle me in before closing the door and rounding the front.

“You just sat here?”

“You were here.” He says it like it’s that easy, like he couldn’t even picture being anywhere else.

He turns the key in the ignition and pulls out of the lot. I close my eyes as we pass the front, not wanting to see if Marshall’s there. I’m not sure what would be worse: him still standing there waiting for us to leave or him going back to his party like nothing happened. We don’t say anything.

Was that why Marshall’s been so weird lately? Because he felt guilty? Even as I think it I know that it isn’t true. There’s no way he thinks that he’s done anything wrong.

“I feel so stupid,” I whisper, my voice cracking on each word.

“What? Why?” Rowan sounds affronted.

I roll my lips, trying not to cry. How could I have let this happen again?

“I really thought he wanted to be friends again. After last year, things were kinda weird for a while, but since that night at the team house, he’s been hanging out and texting me a bunch. Yeah, it’s been a little much, but I really thought it was just his way of-I don’t know, apologizing, I guess? But what if he just wanted to be in my life again for his movie?”

Rowan reaches over and tugs one of my hands free, setting it on his thigh and gently intertwining our fingers together. I let the touch ground me, the feeling of his calloused fingertips against my palm and the warmth that starts to thaw something in me.

“I think,” he says the words slowly, carefully, placing each one like a chess piece, “I think that he does care about you. But also, maybe he got used to you being the one who was the most invested in the relationship. You always had the most to lose, sohe had all the power, but now that you’re moving on, he probably doesn’t know how to deal with that.”

I pick over everything he’s said. I feel so raw, like I’ve been completely wrung out, and nothing makes sense. It’s like my entire friendship has been a lie and I’m wondering what the hell else I’ve missed. Am I just so naive that I didn’t see any of this until it all blew up in my face?

“So he just wanted me to go back to following him around like a puppy?”

“Look, I don’t know the guy. I don’t know what the fuck is going on in that narcissistic little head of his. All I know is that that first night, he was a guy who was really fuckin’ happy to play the hero. Since then, I guess he just wanted to keep his power. He didn’t like that you didn’t need him anymore.”

I slump down lower in my seat. “This is all such a mess.”

“You’re gonna be okay.” He picks up our joined hands and presses a soft kiss to the back of my fingers. “I’m gonna make sure of it.”

Chapter Forty-Five

RUTH

“Why is there music playing?” I ask as we reach the final few steps up to my apartment. Rowan’s hand is on my lower back, likes he thinks I’m going to go tumbling backward.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, sounding distracted.

I turn the key in the lock, ready to crawl into bed, and try to put the whole night behind me, but as the door swings open, I’m hit by the smell of pizza, and laughter coming from the living room.

“Georgie?” I call out as I move toward the noise. Who else is here?

“Ruth?” Her voice comes out squeaky, and I hear a bunch of shuffling. Oh shit, is she in there with a girl?

“Are you naked?”

“What? No!”

With the assurance that I’m not about to walk in on her fucking someone on the couch, I push open the door and see her standing in the middle of the floor, face flushed. Steph, Indira, and Beth are sitting around her. Our Econ study group. The coffee table and couch are covered in notebooks and discarded takeout boxes, and nobody says anything. The silence is thick,and I get the ugly impression that I’ve walked in on something I wasn’t meant to see.

“Hey guys!” I try to sound casual, but nobody’s buying it.

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