“Your parents were okay with that? Mine would have freaked.”

“They…” I trailed off, trying to think of the best answer that wouldn’t lead to more questions. “They didn’t really have a say.”

He smiled. “That doesn’t surprise me at all. I’m sure they know that you would have found a way to do what you want. Makes me wonder what they’re like. Raising such a free spirit.”

I thought about his comment. I’d never felt like a free spirit. More like someone who was weighed down by her horrific past. But Benji made me see something about myself that I hadn’t seen before—the bright side. It was nice to think that maybe my parents were looking down on me, satisfied with my fortitude.

“You’re kind of awesome sometimes,” I said, smiling at him.

“Yeah?” he said, a hopeful look in his eyes.

An hour after we’d sat down, Benji waved down the waitress and insisted on paying.

“When do you have to go to the Fitz?” he asked.

I looked at my phone to check the time and noticed that both Cy and Dr. Z had called. “Oh, shit. I’m an hour late.”

“I’ll take you there. I can come in and help you with whatever.”

I shook my head, putting my phone in my pocket as I stood. “I just need to get there fast before I lose my position. Shit!”

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Benji smiled. “Oh, I can get you there fast.”

The Mustang’s brakes squealed as we pulled away from Gigi’s and then again when we skidded to a stop in front of the Fitz.

I climbed out, holding open the door and laughing. “Thanks for not killing me.”

“We still on for studying tomorrow?”

I looked at Benji for a moment, wondering if that was a good idea, and then nodded. What the hell? “Sure,” I said.

I pushed the door shut and turned to climb the steps, but Benji called my name. The passenger-side window was rolled down nearly all the way by the time I flipped around to face him.

“Can I sit with you in class again?”

It felt strange to keep saying yes to Benji after telling him no for so long, but I wasn’t enough of a badass to endure seeing that sad look on Benji’s face again. He was a good person. He deserved way better than I could ever give him, but that didn’t mean I had to punish him for trying to be my friend.

“Yeah,” I said.

Leaving him behind, I jogged up the stairs and into the lobby. My pace slowed as I descended the north stairs to the basement, trying to process the day.

Once I opened the lab door and walked in though, the moment of peace had returned to chaos.

Both Cy and Dr. Z were rushing me, asking where I was, why I was late, whom I was with, and a dozen other questions.

I held up my hands. “I’m sorry! I’ve been working every night for six weeks! I needed a break!”

“You couldn’t call?” Cy snapped.

“I should have called Dr. Z. I’m sorry.”

The professor patted his chest. “I’m glad you’re okay. Of course, you work very hard and should take breaks, Rory. But please, for god’s sake, let me know when you decide to disappear.”

Disappear. For the love of all things holy. “Dr. Z, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

He waved me away, walking toward the door. “Please. We’re ahead of schedule, and all thanks to the two of you.”

Dr. Z left, locking the door behind him.

“Selfish!” Cy growled behind me.

I flipped around, preparing to let him know that I didn’t report to him, but the second I faced him, he crashed into me, wrapping his arms around me, his fingers digging into my skin.

“I thought…” he said, his voice thick with worry.

I just stood there, not knowing what else to do. No one had touched me like that in a long time, yet it felt natural, as if he’d held me a hundred times before. I slowly hugged him back and rested my chin on his shoulder. The longer he held me, the better it felt.

After a full minute, Cy finally relaxed his grip and took a step back.

“My apologies,” he said quietly. He looked down and then pushed his glasses up to sit higher on the ridge of his nose.

“You thought what?” I asked.

He shook his head and turned around, retreating to his desk.

“I’m not depressed, if that’s what you think.”

“I didn’t think you killed yourself, Rory.”

“Then, what is it?”

“I just…I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

I grinned, dropping my backpack beside my desk. “Something has already happened to me. You should stop worrying.”

Cy opened his mouth to say something, but he decided against it.

Chapter Six

FOR FOUR WEEKS, Benji and I had inevitably eaten two meals a day together, nearly every day, and I’d found I was beginning to look forward to it. My grades had returned to normal, and Ellie had even seemed to be around less. For the first time since I’d moved to Helena, I was smiling more often than not.

Spending time with Benji seemed to take up my days, and being ignored by Cy took up my nights. We would sit across from each other, barely speaking, barely making eye contact. I’d tried asking questions I didn’t need the answers to. I’d even tried bringing up the fact that he’d shown up at my door weeks before in the early morning hours to check up on me, figuring that would get him talking. But every time, he would find some way to answer in one or two words or say he was too busy to talk.

I pretended not to notice, but I wanted to punch him for pulling me into that amazing hug as if he gave a shit and then spending nearly a month making me feel as if I were invisible. I wanted to punch myself for caring, for allowing someone to make me feel that way in the first place.

Halloween night, while everyone was dressing up and attending parties, Cy and I were in the basement, punching numbers. The Fitz was one of the oldest buildings on campus, and it struggled to keep itself comfortably heated in the winter and cooled in the summer. The basement was particularly miserable and felt like an icebox on very cold nights.

I sipped my water and then put it down before pulling the sleeves of my sweater further over my hands.

Cy cleared his throat, and for the first time in weeks, he spoke to me first, “I can talk to Dr. Zorba about a space heater.”

“He’ll never go for it,” I said, wiping my lips with the cuff of my sweater. “He wouldn’t risk a fire or a significant temperature change affecting the specimen.”




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