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It was always about Ben, I was beginning to realize. Our relationship was uneven—never about me. Everything revolved around him.
And I hoped that meant we were okay, even though I had an inkling that Claire would’ve said Luli’s smile was strained.
“You’re very affectionate,” he said, gaze catching mine. “You know that?”
And the way Wit said it—his voice. It was gentle, honest, intimate. How could it be that intimate? We’d just met.
“You’re affectionate, too,” I murmured, and when Wit looked at me, I smiled. “Just an observation.”
It had been a drunk driving accident.
Sarah suffered several broken bones, a serious concussion, and was left with scars. But my sister was killed instantly. Instantly.
But it had taken him less than ten seconds. It had taken him less than ten seconds to connect the dots, while
I thought he was a little afraid of Luli, so I giggled once she and I were alone…but my friend didn’t laugh with me. Instead, she watched Wit retreat to the Cabin.
“Okay,” Wit said after a minute. “I won’t say you’re pretty.” He sighed. “But am I still allowed to think it? Because if not”—his eyes flicked up and down my body, all wet and splattered with mud—“that’d be a huge ask.”
“You can call me handsome, but I can’t call you—”
You’ve known him what, five minutes? And you’re already all in with him.”
“Yeah, but you went about it the wrong way,” he said. “You broke our pact. We agreed to tell the other if one of our names came up.” He shrugged. “And you didn’t.”
he also wasn’t truthful. If he tried telling you but
didn’t, I think he was”—she paused—“reading the tea leaves.”
“We’d be long distance anyway,” Wit was saying. “Even if I was back at Tulane.”
“I think it’s admirable that he has recognized his discontent at school and is taking time to self-reflect and see if he wants to make changes.”