Page 74 of Atticus
“What?” I ask.
Atticus tilts his head toward me. “Guess who’s been sleeping with Sullivan?”
“Who?”
“Judy Carlisle.”
My mouth drops open. “You’re kidding. I can’t believe it. But isn’t she married?”
Atticus shrugs. “Yes, but when has that stopped people?”
“And she has the nerve to talk down to me about you,” I scoff.
“The hypocrisy is astonishing. The audacity,” Atticus agrees. He looks at me. “I’m using that word correctly, right?”
“Yeah.” I give him a little nudge. “Good job.” I admire his face, his hair, everything about him. “I miss you. Will I see you tonight?”
“Depends on Bryant,” Atticus replies. “You know how he is. If he falls asleep, I’ll come over.”
“Do you miss me?” I ask him quietly, folding my arms as I scan recess activities.
“Do you even need to ask that question?” he teases.
“Maybe I like hearing it.”
“Of course I miss you.” He takes a small side-step closer to me. “I hate being parted from you. I belong with you, Lucy.”
When he talks like that it sends the butterflies in my stomach into flight. I catch my breath. “I know. I need a little more time. I’ve lived through having the rug pulled out from under me, and I’d rather not go through it again. I want to do this the right way.” I shove my hands into my coat pockets.Damn, Illinois is cold.
“And if she refuses and tries to fire you?”
“I won’t take that lying down. The more I think about it, the more I could make her life hell if she goes in that direction. She’s gotta see that keeping you hostage in any situation won’t work.” I fight off a shiver from the chill. “Just let me have my boyfriend, and I’ll get outta your hair, goddamn.”
That’s when it hits me. And it hits him too.
“Say that again.” Atticus peers at me.
Oh, boy. The nerves are taking over. “Just let me have my boyfriend,” I repeat.
“You consider me your boyfriend?”
“Well, yeah. After everything, what else would we be?” I clear my throat. “I mean, we don’t have to label it if you don’t want to.” I wish I was as cool as this damn weather. I like being in control, but when it comes to Atticus, it all goes right out the window. “What would you call this? Callus, I mean.”
“I’d call this a relationship,” Atticus answers. “The more I research, the more I spend time with you, the more apparent it is to me. I’ve always considered myself to be yours. Being called your boyfriend pleases me a great deal.”
“Okay.” We continue keeping our voices down. “So long as you call me your girlfriend too. So it’s fair.”
“Then fair it is.”
What I wouldn’t give to simply hold his hand right now. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Being patient with me. Letting me take my time in figuring things out, this past semester. And supporting my decisions. I wish I could be like one of those women from the movies where they just throw caution to the wind and say screw it, but—”
“I admire you for it,” Atticus says. “You’re not a selfish person, Lucy. If you were, perhaps you could do those things. But I know how important it is to you to stand on your own feet. I understand sometimes you have to play the long game.”
“Where did you learn that?”
