Chapter 29: Our First Date?
A week changed more than I expected.
Mom was home. Emma had already taken over reminding everyone when to take their medication, despite only being eighteen and acting forty-five about it. Noah had gone back to complaining about homework instead of hospital food, which was honestly the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard. The apartment finally sounded like home again, full of small familiar noises I hadn’t realized I’d been missing until they came back.
Life wasn’t perfect. But it wasn’t falling apart anymore either, and right now that felt like more than enough.
Justin and I had spoken exactly three times over the past week. The first was when he called to ask how Mom was doing, his voice careful and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world and wasn’t going to rush me. The second was because he wanted to know if I’d submitted my latest documentary footage, which was very much a Justin Hayes way of checking in without admitting he was checking in. The third call lasted almost twenty minutes before either of us realized we’d stopped talking about the documentary entirely and had somehow drifted into arguing about whether gas station sushi was ever acceptable. It wasn’t. We disagreed strongly.
It was strange. We were still us, still awkward, still carefully dancing around the thing neither of us had said out loud yet. Yet every time I hung up, I caught myself smiling at nothing for a few seconds before I remembered I was still supposed to be mad at him.
I missed him. That realization irritated me more than it probably should have.
I adjusted the strap of my camera bag and stepped out into the hallway after class, already mentally organizing the footage I needed to sort through before the week was out.
"Well."
A familiar voice stopped me cold.
"I was wondering when we’d run into each other."
I looked up. Chloe. Beside her stood the brunette from the parking lot, the same girl who had wrapped herself around Justin that morning like she owned him, now looking at me with the particular kind of disdain that takes years of practice to perfect.
She looked me over slowly before curling her lip. "Hmm."
"What?"
"Nothing." She smiled like she was doing me a favor. "I was just wondering how someone could make exhausted look fashionable."
Chloe laughed. The brunette tilted her head. "You look a little stank, if I’m being honest."
I stared at both of them for a second. Then I sighed, the deep kind that comes from somewhere way past tired. "Are we seriously doing this right now?"
Neither of them answered. I shifted my bag higher onto my shoulder. "We’re in college. Actual college. So maybe leave the mean girl thing back in high school where it belongs, because I genuinely do not have the bandwidth for it today."
Chloe’s smile faded. The brunette folded her arms. "You’ve gotten brave."
"No." I smiled back, politely and completely without warmth. "I’ve just gotten tired." My eyes moved to Chloe. "And honestly? You’re trying to bully me over my leftovers."
Chloe blinked. "What?"
"Ethan." I shrugged. "You can have him. He was trash when I was with him, so I’m really not surprised that trash found trash. I hope you two are very happy together."
Chloe’s face went scarlet. The brunette took a step forward and I simply walked past them both, done with the conversation before it had a chance to become one.
I’d barely made it five feet down the hallway before a familiar voice cut right through the noise of everyone changing classes.
"Hey, baby."
Every single head in the vicinity turned. Mine included.
Justin leaned against the classroom doorway, one hand tucked casually into the pocket of his jeans, looking completely unbothered by the audience he’d just created. The white bandage above his eyebrow was smaller than it had been a few days ago, but seeing it still made something tighten in my chest. He smiled at me. Not the cocky smile he gave everyone else. The other one. The one I was fairly sure most people had never seen.
Behind me, I heard someone scoff. Then another. By the time I glanced back, Chloe and the brunette had already turned and headed in the opposite direction. Interesting how fast that worked.
Justin walked toward me and without asking wrapped one arm around my shoulders in an easy side hug, like it was the most natural thing in the world. "You’ve been avoiding me."
"I’ve been busy."
"You’ve been mad."
I looked up at him. "I am still mad."
"I know." His smile softened into something quieter. "I deserve it." That wasn’t the answer I’d been expecting, and the fact that he said it so easily, without deflecting or making a joke out of it, did something annoying to my chest.
We walked a few more steps before his expression shifted and the teasing fell away entirely. "I need a favor."
I narrowed my eyes. "What kind of favor?"
"Come to dinner with me tonight."
"Dinner?"
"It’s important."
I groaned. "Do I have to?"
"You hate free food?"
"I hate dressing up."
He leaned in close enough that only I could hear him. "You kind of have to. It’s in the contract."
I laughed despite myself. "You literally added that clause yourself." "I did." "You’re unbelievable." "I’ve been told."
Then, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear, he placed one hand dramatically over the bandage on his forehead. "You’re really going to deny a dying man his final wish?"
"A dying man?"
He nodded solemnly. "Doctors say I’ve got at least another eighty years."
"You got three stitches."
"They were deeply emotional stitches, Harper."
I shook my head, laughing. "Fine. What time?"
His face lit up immediately. "Seven. And I’ve already handled the outfit situation, before you ask." My smile disappeared. "What does that mean?" "Someone will be at your place around four." "Justin—" He was already backing away down the hallway, pointing at me with a grin. "Don’t be late."
Then he turned the corner and was gone.
I stood in the middle of the hallway while students streamed around me, staring at the empty space where he’d just been.
What the hell is Justin planning?
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