Pepper shook her head, her eyes wide. “Why didn’t you ever tell us any of this? About your mom and stepbrother?”
“I just didn’t want you to look at me differently.”
“Differently how?” Georgia dropped down next to me on my bed, heedless of the pile of clothes I had yet to put away. “Like we wouldn’t love you anymore?”
“No, of course not.” I shook my head, tucking the hair behind my ear, feeling silly about this now. I couldn’t explain why I’d kept it to myself. There was too much shame wrapped up in what happened to me. Not just what my stepbrother did, but because my mother rejected me. She hadn’t protected me—that most basic thing a mother does for her child. Even Pepper’s mother, a messed-up drug addict, had, in her own way, loved and done her best to protect Pepper. And Georgia came from two great, loving parents. Not me.
I exhaled. “I just didn’t want you to think anything was wrong with me. I didn’t want your pity.”
“Em,” Georgia said softly. “There isn’t anything wrong with you. You got a crappy family. Not. Your. Fault.”
“Yeah. That’s not a reflection on you. Trust me. I know about crappy families.” Pepper dipped a nacho in hot sauce, nodding vigorously. “I don’t pity you. Right now, I want to shake you for keeping this bottled up forever.”
I smiled wanly. “I told Shaw.”
“Well, that’s something,” Pepper allowed.
“Yeah, and then he showed up, beat the crap out of Justin—”
“Hallelujah.” Pepper nodded in approval.
“Because he loves you,” Georgia cut in. “You know that, right?” Her eyes softened. “I know you’ve never felt like this about a guy before, that you’re scared of your feelings . . . loving someone can be scary.”
I looked at both of them, Georgia’s words echoing through my mind. Loving someone can be scary. Something in me caved in and broke loose at the truth of that statement. I did love him. But could I do this with him? Be normal? Take love and love someone back?
Pepper nodded. “I think the guy has been in love with you ever since he hauled your ass out of that bar.”
I set my food down beside me on the bed and curled my knees to my chest, rocking slightly for a moment. So far this conversation wasn’t making me feel better.
“He made you happy,” Georgia reminded me. “I haven’t seen you like that with any guy. Like ever. He brought something out of you. You were . . . real. Not Emerson the t—”
I looked at her sharply. Her cheeks grew pink with embarrassment. “Emerson the tease?” I finished.
She nodded, looking contrite, but I didn’t blame her. I had fostered that image. I kept everyone from seeing the real me. Because only the real me could get hurt. Not fake Emerson. Nothing touched her. No one.
No one but Shaw.
He’d gotten to the real me.
“The only thing standing in the way of you being happy is you,” Pepper quietly added. “Take it from me. I almost lost Reece. Don’t let Shaw go.”
I unwrapped my arms from around my knees and reached for my phone on the shelf, rubbing my thumb idly over the screen, thinking about Shaw, wondering what he was doing, if he was thinking about me.
“Are you gonna text him?” Pepper asked, hope in her voice.
I nodded slowly. “I—yeah.” Sucking in a deep breath, I typed, deleting and starting over several times before I settled on:
You don’t have to chase me anymore
I set the phone back down and shrugged like it was no big deal. Like I didn’t just pull my heart from my body and fling it down on the ground to see if he would pick it up.
The three of us sat there for several moments, waiting to see if he replied. After a few tense minutes, I grabbed the remote control and forced a smile. “Let’s see what’s on TV.” I felt Pepper and Georgia watching me but feigned great interest in channel surfing. “Oh, look, Teen Wolf is on.”
AFTER WE FINISHED EATING, Pepper left us to head over to Reece’s place. I couldn’t quite lose myself in Teen Wolf like usual. I had a Medieval Art quiz on Wednesday, but there was no concentrating on that. I’d read up on the buttresses of Notre Dame later.
“I’m going to the studio to get some work done,” I announced to Georgia as I tugged my Uggs up over my leggings.
“It’s your favorite episode,” Georgia said, pointing to the screen at the hot boy running through the woods at missile-launch speed.
“Eh.” I shrugged, staring almost broodingly at the television for a moment. None of the yummy boy actors held a candle to Shaw. He was the real deal.
I pulled a thick Irish sweater over my boy’s T-shirt. Standing, I leaned down and pressed a kiss to her head. “I won’t be too late.”
She laughed. “Right. You always say that and then you lose track of time. You never even hear your phone half the time when you’re in there.”
Exactly. I stood up, looping my wallet and keys around my wrist.
“I know what you’re doing, Em. You’re trying to distract yourself from the fact that Shaw hasn’t texted you back yet.”
I forced a smile. “You know me well.”
“Em, wait. At least text him and tell him where you’re going. In case he—”
“I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“Humor me!”
“Bye.” I fluttered my fingers at her. Slipping on my bulky coat, I left our room and walked toward the elevator. On the way down, I buttoned myself up. Stepping outside, I cringed against the blast of cold. I hadn’t emerged from my dorm since Friday and I’d almost forgotten it was winter outside. I looped my scarf around my neck twice, tugging the soft fabric up to cover my chin.
I turned my phone over and over in my pocket, Georgia’s voice buzzing in my head. Muttering, I pulled the phone out and texted Shaw.
I’m headed to the studio to work
Shoving the phone back in my pocket, I expelled a breath. “There. Satisfied, Georgia?”
I beat a familiar path to the studio, thumbing the keys that dangled from my wallet as my feet ate up the distance. I passed a few students heading back in the direction of the dorms. Others took the turn past the student center, doubtlessly heading for the library.
The studio loomed ahead in the darkness, its glass windows gleaming like the flat surface of a silent lake, unruffled by wind. I toyed with the key. Professor Martinelli only granted a few students after-hours access to the studio. It humbled me to be one of them.