Page 107 of Lovesick
It always felt like there was a water wall separating me from my father. I was on one side of the fog-thickened torrent—enclosed in a spot of dry land where the rest of the world fell to sightlessness—while my family was calling to me from beyond the invisible barrier. But now, the once-interminable rain has granted me the smallest peephole.
“I didn’t expect you to apologize for that,” I admit. “But thank you.”
“It’s a little too late, but I wanted you to hear it from me.And, you know, if I had to give anyone my blessing, I’m glad it’s Crew. He’s the only person good enough for you.”
“Do you really mean that?”
My dad’s mouth matures into a smile. “I do. I see it now—the way he looks at you, the love in his eyes. It’s the way I still look at your mother after all these years. I know he’s going to do everything in his power to protect you (andnotbe overbearing like me).”
“I should’ve realized it when he saved me from that oncoming car,” I joke, completely forgetting that my run-in with death was another secret I kept under wraps.
Suddenly, my father’s loud voice pierces the stillness of the hospital.
“I’m sorry, he didwhat?!”
29
A FRIENDLY RECONCILIATION
CREW
I’ve never been anyone’s errand boy before, but I think I’m discovering certain things about myself. Like, for one, I’m not opposed to being praised for my good deeds, whether that’s in the bedroom or out of it. Especially if it’s coming from Merit’s mouth.
I’ve barely left her bedside this entire week. I’ve skipped classes, studied in her hospital room, started wearing one of those holster belts filled with energy drinks, and adhered to a diet of Jell-O cups and mystery lunch meat.
I offered to pick up her makeup work today, and Harlan has volunteered to be my entertainment for the afternoon. It’s good getting to spend time with him. The end of the semester is only a few weeks away.
Students mill around campus as the buttery sun moseys into the sky above the low-rise clouds—a nice reprieve from the overcast weather Minnesota’s been getting lately. Harlan walks beside me, flicking through his chemistry flashcards. I swing my backpack across my side, tucking a few Calculus packets into the pocket before readjusting it on my back.
“So, a little birdie told me that you and Irelyn are getting kind of cozy with each other,” I bring up.
He doesn’t even dignify my comment with a look, his head buried in empirical formulas. “Huh?”
“You’re not denying it.”
“Who told you this information?” he hedges, craning his neck up and narrowing his eyes in displeasure at me—for interrupting his study sessionandinterloping on his suspiciously secretive personal life.
Harlan keeps to himself, and I respect that. I don’t expect him to spill all the beans, but his choice to remain impartial makes me think that this “thing” with Irelyn goes way beyond surface-level attraction.
“Nobodyyy,” I sing-song.
Everyone knows Foster is the town gossip, but I think he’d appreciate me keeping his identity a secret. I bet if I asked Irelyn, she’d fold faster than a lawn chair.
“We’re just friends,” Harlan says, unamused. He’s looking exceptionally homicidal today. If we weren’t in public, he’d probably dismember me and scatter my limbs out in the hinterland for broaching such a taboo topic.
“Friends who fuck?” I tease.
“OF COURSE NOT!” he screeches, and about twenty-some-odd eyes are on us in an instant, staring, waiting for the nonexistent fire to start smoking so they can panic in an orderly fashion.
He lowers his voice, embarrassment pooling in his florid cheeks. “I just mean…nothing is going on.”
I bump his shoulder. “Do you want something to happen?”
Harlan grows quiet—an unofficial yes—and pretends to linger on a card that’s an absolute walk in the park for him. I would know, seeing as he recites the correct answer every single time.
I wish he could see how badass he is, you know? I mean,he’s got the smarts and the looks. He’s the full package, but he’s just…shy. Any girl would be lucky to go out with him.
“I don’t really think it’s up to me.”
