Page 62 of The Heartbreak Blitz

She pulls away. “You just made that up.”

I trace the upward curve of her lips. “It made you smile, though.”

She heaves out a breath. “I have to go inside.”

“Your phone?” I ask.

“In my pocket.”

“Text me.”

She wipes at her eyes, then opens the door. “Be careful driving back to campus.”

I nod as she waves, shutting the door carefully. I watch as she crosses the street, locks the gate behind her, and climbs the rotted stairs.

Her house looks more like a haunted attraction. Maybe it’s because it’s so dark out and the lone light casts weird shadows over it. In the daylight, I bet it isn’t as bad. Sure, the lawn needs to be mowed and the house needs a fresh coat of paint, but maybe that’s it.

She turns, and I wave at her while she does the same from the porch before retreating inside.

Without her beautiful body near it, it looks so much worse.

One thing is for sure, I can help Charley. I don’t know how yet. I don’t know what she’ll need from me, but I can be that guy for her.

Every block that passes away from her as I make the return drive to campus feels like a mile. A new pit of worry opens in my stomach, and I grip the steering wheel, forcing myself to keep going.

Being in my room alone where we shared our intimate moment makes it even worse. My sheets smell like her. My pillows, too. I shoot her a quick text that I’m back home and then fall asleep, hoping I’ll have an epiphany about how I can support her.

18

Charley

Nerves squeeze my stomach. I’m bobbing in a vast ocean, and everyone who surrounds me are the waves, perfectly working in harmony while I stick out like a sore thumb. The five-dollar bill in my pocket burns like my outfit will catch on fire, exposing me to everyone.

The next person in line moves up to the counter, and I follow, keeping my gaze fixed on the heels of their red Converse.

You can do this.

The café is busy this morning. More than I imagined when I woke up wanting to do something nice for Cade. I have to admit the relief I feel with Cade knowing a little about what I go through on a daily basis. And he couldn’t have responded better. It was more than I imagined.

“Next.”

I take a deep breath, stepping up to the counter where the coffee smell surrounds me like a suffocating shroud.

What am I doing? I never come here alone. I never spend money that I don’t talk to Dad about first. But I focus on how liberating it felt to take my own money out of the ATM. Hands shaking, I repeat the order Cade always does: “Two caramel lattes, please.”

The barista glances up. “Are you the girl Cade Farmer has been hanging out with?”

I nod. This isn’t usually the conversation Cade has, and my throat starts to tighten.

“Are you two a thing?” she asks, emphasizing the word like it has a much deeper meaning, and it does. Cade and I certainly aren’tjusta thing. I’ve fantasized about telling people about my dad before, but I never went through with it. He truly was my dirty, dark secret, and Cade is the only person who knows it, direct from my mouth.

“We are,” I state, absentmindedly bringing up my hand to finger the pendant of my necklace.

Her eyes light. “You go, girl. He’s a catch.”

I drop my hand. “Um, thanks.”

She winks. “Don’t worry, I know exactly how he likes his latte.” She hits a few buttons on her screen and gives me the total. I hand her the five-dollar bill, heart thumping, then I move to the side with the others waiting for their drinks.

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