Page 119 of All These Beautiful Strangers
“Because this wasn’t some stupid fight, Charlie,” Greyson said. “This guy—he completely used you. And your cousin is an asshole for letting him.”
“I know,” I said, cutting him off. “I know, okay? I was there. A stupid cupcake isn’t going to give me amnesia.”
“Okay,” Greyson said.
There was another knock at the door.
“Jesus,” Greyson said.
“Can you just get in the closet?” I asked.
Greyson sighed and rolled his eyes but did as I said. It was Crosby at the door with another cupcake and another tile. Over the next half hour, half the soccer team came to the door with a boxed cupcake and tile, and I had solved the puzzle. It said, I’m an asshole. I’m sorry.
“Wow,” Greyson said, looking at the solved puzzle on my desk. “Preppy really goes all out.”
There was another knock on my door and I opened it reluctantly. Dalton was standing there. I would have shut the door in his face, but he looked all humbled and apologetic, so un-Dalton-like.
“Hi, Charlie,” he said. “Can I come in?”
“I’m with someone,” I said, opening the door enough that he could see that Greyson was there.
“Hi,” Dalton said, reaching out his hand to greet Greyson. “I don’t think we were properly introduced last time. I’m Dalton. It’s really good to meet you.”
Greyson just stood where he was, his arms crossed over his chest. “Yeah, I can’t really say the same,” he said. “Charlie’s told me all about you, and it wasn’t really a ringing endorsement, if you catch my drift.”
Dalton dropped his hand to his side, clearly caught off guard by Greyson’s frank comments.
“You have three seconds to get the hell out of here before I reconfigure your face with my fist,” Greyson said. “And you can take your smarmy apologies with you.”
“I didn’t come here to stir anything up,” Dalton said, raising his hands at his sides as if he were surrendering. “Whether you believe my apology to be genuine or not, it is. And really, it’s not up to you. This is between me and Charlie.”
Greyson stepped forward, putting himself between me and the doorway.
“Greyson, it’s okay,” I said.
I tugged on the back of his shirt but that did little to get his attention.
“Greyson,” I said again. “I can talk to him. It’s okay.”
“You don’t have to,” Greyson said. “You don’t owe him anything.”
“I know,” I said.
“Okay,” Greyson said. “But I’ll be right out here. Like literally right out here. And this door stays open.”
Dalton took a step back so Greyson could go out into the hallway. I motioned Dalton into my room and shut the door most of the way, leaving about an inch of open space between the door and the frame.
“Charlie, I’m sorry about what I said,” Dalton said, taking a step away from the door and lowering his voice so that Greyson couldn’t hear us. “Being with you was never about that stupid game for me—not for one moment. I was into you before Leo ever put your name on that board. It’s just taken me a long time to get up the nerve to do anything about it, because, well, you don’t exactly make things easy.”
He smiled and I bit my lip.
“I’m sorry about the way I treated you the other day,” Dalton said. “I didn’t mean any of the things I said. That wasn’t me.”
“So why did you say that, if you didn’t mean it?” I asked, crossing my arms.
“Because I was upset,” Dalton said. “It’s obvious I like you. Everybody knows it. But you’re still so . . . guarded with me. And at first I just thought that was how you were—that maybe you had trouble opening up or something. But then I saw you in your room with another guy, and I just felt like—like an idiot. Like maybe the reason you were being distant wasn’t because you had trouble opening up, but because you didn’t like me as much as I liked you.”
“I did like you,” I said.
