Page 137 of Built to Fall
“I wanted to say…” She takes a cautious step closer. “That kiss on the cheek? It meant nothing. Seriously. It’s just… habit, that’s all. We’ve all known each other forever. It’s stupid and harmless, and I swear, he wasn’t thinking about me. Not even close.”
Her voice is a steady ramble, in a way that guts me even more.
“He was looking for you, Lina,” she says softly. “The entire time. You’re the only person he wanted to see.”
I press my lips together so hard they hurt, but it doesn’t stop the burning behind my eyes.
Savannah hesitates, like she’s waiting for me to say something. When I don’t, she offers a small smile—one that’s strangely gentle—and backs toward the door.
“You should talk to him,” she says. “Don’t let the lies in your head be louder than the truth standing right in front of you.” Then she backs away, readying to leave.
“Wait,” I call before she leaves the bathroom.
She turns. I notice for the thousandth time how perfect she is. How much of the obvious choice she is.
“Do you think he’s playing me?” My voice cracks the tiniest bit. I can’t help it.
It should make me feel stupid, being the girl who falls for the fuckboy—knowing I don’t stand a chance at anything real with him. But there’s also a trembling, impossibly stubborn part of me that so badly wants it to be possible.
Savannah’s lips upturn the slightest bit. “Lina, if he’s playing you, then he’s playing me too. To me, you’re his obvious choice. I can’t possibly believe that he could play you when he looks at you the way he does.” She pushes off the doorframe and steps fully back into the bathroom. “If you need to walk away, that’s your call. But don’t do it because you’re scared he doesn’t care. Because he does. Way more than he knows how to handle sometimes.”
I should walk away. I know that.
For a second, I think I can stay silent and pretend I’m fine. But the words claw out of me before I can stop them.
“I don’t see how he could ever want me more than he wants you,” I whisper, my voice so thin it barely exists. “I mean—look at you.”
I’m the kind of girl guystolerateuntil someone more convenient comes along. Someone they don’t have to tiptoearound. Someone whose body doesn’t freeze up at the thought of being touched too long or kissed too deeply.
There’s such a huge possibility that Grant could find someone else. Just like Gage did. And I’ll only have myself to blame.
It’s never bothered me before. I’ve never been insecureof myself, but this is different.
I’ve been chosen before, but I’ve never beenkept.
Savannah doesn’t move.
She looks at me, and it’s not pity in her eyes. It’s something heavier. Like she knows exactly what it feels like to stand in this spot, breaking open.
“You think it’s easier to be me?” Savannah’s voice wobbles. “You think being the girl everyone wants to touch but no one wants to choose feels good?”
Tears burn down my cheeks before I can stop them, hot and humiliating. I press a hand over my mouth, but a broken sob slips out anyway.
Savannah’s face crumples when she sees it, like she feels it in her own body. And before I can even think, she’s pulling me into her arms.
“There’s nothing that’snotbeautiful about you,” she whispers into my shoulder. “I mean, sure, I have the bright platinum hair that is practically designed to draw attention. I might turn heads for asecond, but you?” She pulls back to look at me with the biggest smile, tears clouding her eyes. “You have the kind of beauty people notice without even understanding why. It’s not loud. It’s not overpowering. It’s the kind that stays with you. Itwrecksyou a little.”
I break harder at that, full-blown sobs tearing free before I can even try to stop them. Her hand rubs slow, steady circles over my back.
Both of our under-the-skin insecurities are coming to the surface, and it’ssopolarizing to see how similar they truly are.
“You’re the one he can’t stop finding in a crowded room, Lina,” she says fiercely, voice thick with emotion. “You’re the one he’dlosehimself for, and I know he might tell you he only wants something temporary, but you have to listen to me when I tell you thatyouare different for him. You just have to be patient.”
I nod my head against her shoulder, but she just squeezes me tighter.
“It’s not a contest,” she whispers. “It never was, because you’re the only one he sees. I was never even in contention.”
The words wrap around something raw inside me—something bruised and splintered—and for the first time, I let them stay. I let myselfwantto believe them.
