Page 39 of No Way Home
“Why?” I asked again.
He stared at me. “I just answered why.”
“No. Why were you mean to me in the first place? And why did you feel bad about it?” I threw my hands out. “I mean, if you’re going to be a douchebag, you need to commit. None of this back and forth nonsense.”
A muscle in his jaw pulsed, but he didn’t speak.
“You’re going to tell me,” I demanded. “Or I’m telling Griffin about the drawings.”
His mouth fell open. “Are you blackmailing me?”
“Yes,” I said, not the least bit ashamed. “You made my life miserable for two years.” I poked him in the chest. “You owe me answers.”
But he didn’t give me any. He just stood there, staring me down, guarding all his secrets.
Suddenly, everything clicked into place.
I froze, hand half-raised before I let it drop. “Youlikedme. On our Sole Mates date.Thatwas the real you. Sweet, funny, a touch flirty. A gentleman. Not all of this a-hole behavior you’ve exhibited since. All this—” my finger made a swirl in front of his hardened expression, “is a cover. I didn’t realize it until now.” I hooted, the truth sucking the darkness of the lasttwo years from my lungs. “But you, Bowen Dupree, are a nice guy.”
“No.I’m a jerk,” he sounded desperate for me to believe it.
“Nope. You’re a nice guy. And you liked me at Sole Mates. But then, you saw Griffin’s phone call and realized I was the girl he’d been trying to get with all summer. That’s what happened. Isn’t it?”
His whole face dropped, like the scaffolding holding him together had just been kicked out from under him.
I stepped toward him. “Why didn’t you just tell me that night?”
His eyes skittered over my face, hands tugging at the back of his hair, like he was going to run.
“Bowen,” I said more sternly. “For the love, just give it up. This behavior has been crazy-making. I felt somethingintensefor you at Sole Mates.” I pressed a hand over my heart. “I thought it was going to be the start of something amazing, and then you disappeared. Do you have any idea how that felt? Coming out of the bathroom, so giddy and excited, only to find you gone?”
His eyes went hooded, like it hurt to look at me—to face what he’d done.
“And the next time I saw you, you werehorrible. You told your girlfriend—who you broke up with a month later, now that I think of it—that she had the best legs you’d ever seen after you’d said the same thing to me.” I dug my finger into his breastbone. “You were purposely hurtful because you wanted me to stay away from you. You were trying to throw me off. And it worked. I thought I was losing my mind. For two years.” I exhaled, releasing some of the pain. “It’s time for the madness to end, Bowen. Tell. Me. The truth.” I poked him once for each word.
He caught my wrist and squeezed, yanking me against him. I looked up into those gray eyes, stormier than I’d ever seen them. I couldn’t breathe being that close to him.
“Fine,” he snapped. “I liked you, okay? So much. Of course, I did. You were adorable, and hilarious, and sexy as hell. And so freakingbrilliant,” he spat like it disgusted him—like admitting that made him weak and he hated himself for it. “And we had this insane connection. But none of that mattered. Because you were Griff’s. So I left.” He tossed my hand away. “Are you happy now?
I stood there, head spinning. He’d felt the same about me? He wasn’t repulsed by me? My breath wasn’t bad? He hadn’t had cold feet? He’d liked me. He’d wanted me. Just like I’d wanted him.
And he’d left anyway.
My heart fissured—a piece breaking clean off and hitting the ground with a smack. The past two years flashed through my mind. Not as they had actually happened, but as they could have been.
Bowen and I at football games together, in matching orange and blue. Lying on the Lawn, studying. Feeding each other Bodo’s. He knew my coffee order by heart and I knew his. Lazy Sunday afternoons playing Scrabble. Hikes and running. Holidays at home. Taking a ride on the Skyline Drive to watch the fall leaves change color.
Kissing.
There would’ve been so much kissing. In the library, in his car, at my apartment, in the courtyard of Monroe Hall.
I would’ve loved it. Lived for it. There was no doubt.
But then, what could’ve been faded from view and reality settled back into place. Him leaving during Sole Mates. Lying about being a UVA student. Saving my life and breaking my heart all in the same day. Throwing out hurtful jabs whenever I was here at their house during Christmas break or the summer. He had done those things. Of his own free will. And a bunch of anonymous sketches—no matter how beautiful—couldn’t wipe that away.
I took a step back and shook my head. “I wasn’t Griff’s then.”The words scraped as they came out of my throat. “But I am now.”
I trudged back up the sidewalk; every step heavier than the last.
