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“I don’t have anywhere else I’d rather be,” I said.

He’d ended things with Winona at the party.
Gotten into a fight over me.
Gotten drunk.

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“Mine would be Oriella. She’s a YouTuber I watch all the time. I’d love to pick her brains.”
“I know who she is. You mentioned her to me once, so I looked her up.”

He had a girlfriend. I was his friend, and that was all.

Brougham made me see the best version of myself, the kinder, wiser, more empathetic version I’d always wanted to be. And that was a hell of a lot to gain, which made it a hell of a lot to lose. And I almost had.
I was so scared to lose him again.

“Darcy?”
“Yeah?”
“Why did you come for me?”
“Because you needed me.”

“You can lean against me if you need to.”
He didn’t need to be asked twice. His cheek went straight to my shoulder, his hair tickling my collarbone and his breath warm against chest as he began to breath deeply and methodically.

I wondered how Brooke was feeling, seeing these photos of Ray. I wished I could comfort her. I wished even more that I’d never hurt them.

No more locker. No more advice. No more knowing I’d helped people with no one else to turn to.
It was all done.

“Darcy, hey. What’s going on? What happened?”
The sight of his face, concerned and open, made my heart swell. It was the first time all day someone had looked at with anything better than disdain.

“But …” But what? “It was my secret. I didn’t want anyone to know.”
Brooke was unmoved. “Yeah. It sucks to have your private shit handed out to people you didn’t want to know it, huh?”

“How did you know about that?” I asked, thinly.
But I knew the answer, didn’t I?
“Oh. Everyone knows. I figured you’d … Sorry.”

“I don’t even know you,” she cried, standing up.

Brooke had forgotten all about her food by this point. All she could do was sit and stare at me. “Wow.”

“Im the person who runs locker eighty-nine,” I said.

He never looked at me. I might’ve been invisible. Just an ornament decorating the halls, blending into navy.

Win.
Since when did he call her Win?

I had no clue where this fear had sprouted from. All I knew was it was paralysing.

“Oh wow. I might like him.”
“Yeah, I think you might.”
Okay. Shit. I might.
I might like Alexander Brougham.
I had feelings for Alexander Brougham.

And he kissed me.
He kissed me.

He dropped his voice to a murmur, even though we were the only ones in sight, making me lean forward to hear him.
“You want me to spell it out?”
“Yes, please. Spell it out.”

“Come on. You obviously think she wants you to ask her back out.
He swallowed. “But what if I didn’t?”
What did that mean?

I don’t know if I’m happy you’re with Winona, after our talk at Disneyland.

He didn’t need me anymore, so that was that, right? And it’s not like we were ever friends. Colleagues, really. And I’d still see him around school. There were still several months until summer.
So why did I feel like this?

I rolled my eyes, then hopped up and did what he said. Just in case. “I hate you.”
“I don’t think you do.”

“I hope everything’s okay back at your house,” I said.
He seemed surprised. “Oh, yeah, it’ll be fine. No stress. I’d almost forgotten about that, actually.”

Had he been sitting this close to me before? No way, there’d been like five inches between us. He must have readjusted his blanket while I was gone. To my surprise, even though our arms were all but mashed together now, he didn’t make any move to pull away.

His weird little bastard accent had already been growing on me, but now i was aware of its histroy, even more so.
And maybe the same could even be said for him.