Preston studied me and my stomach flipped at the intense scrutiny of his gaze. He stepped forward slowly, decreasing the amount of space between us until he was right in front of me. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.” His voice sounded slightly scratchy as if some strange emotion had stuck in his throat. “You don’t have to be embarrassed about what happened, Lia. Alicia acted like a total bitch and everyone knows it. No one’s saying anything mean about you. I won’t let them. And neither will Cole.”
I released a harsh breath, looking down at my feet for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “Preston . . . neither of you have to do that. You didn’t have to cancel your prom date.”
A brief expression of hurt passed over his face before it settled into what looked like irritation again. “Yeah, I’m aware of what I have to do and what I don’t.”
I pressed my lips together. “What I’m saying is, you don’t have to be my champion like some older brother. I never, ever wanted that. I avoid you and Cole in public specifically so you don’t feel obligated to include me or defend me or whatever might come up by me hanging around you and your friends.”
“Obligated?” His jaw ticked and he looked angry. “Is that what you think?”
“I . . . I don’t think you feel that way, but . . .” I don’t want you to have to. I don’t ever want to be a burden. I never want you to look at me the way my mama always has. I couldn’t stand it. “It’s just that we live such different lives.”
I shook my head slightly, staring over his right shoulder, voicing the least of which he must already know. If he hadn’t known the extent of it before, he certainly did after visiting my house tonight. “Anyway, you should enjoy your last bit of time here. You and Cole are going away to college in just a few short months—”
His shoulders seemed to sag in some incremental way that had less to do with movement and more to do with a sudden shift in mood. Was he nervous about going away to college? He must be—Preston loved this land as much as I did, maybe even more since his roots were generations deep. I had the love, and he had the addition of pride.
“Are you going to miss Cole?” he asked. His voice was gentle though his body was still rigid. The question confused me for a moment when my mind had been going in a different direction. Was I going to miss Cole? I hadn’t seen Cole since that day at school either—had purposely stayed away from any other soul except my mama. I bit at my lip trying to answer the question inside my head before saying anything to him. For a second I considered asking Preston what he thought about Cole and I going on a couple of dates. For a second I hoped that he’d tell me he hated it. But then I remembered the way Preston had willingly turned back when Cole told him he was going to ask me out, and I realized I already had my answer: he was fine with it. He didn’t want me.
“I’m going to miss both of you.” Mostly you, Preston. And I wish that wasn’t true because I don’t think you’re going to miss me back, at least not in the same way.
He seemed to relax slightly, letting out a long sigh and massaging the back of his neck. While his gaze was directed away, I allowed my eyes to move down his body, taking in the way his long-sleeved T-shirt clung to the lean muscles of his chest, the way his shoulders were so broad and his hips narrow. The strength of his long, jean-clad legs, and how tall he was.
He dropped his hand and met my eyes again, studying me for a moment as if trying to determine what was going on in my mind. He still looked a little troubled, and I wished he didn’t. It’d been nice of him to come all the way here to check on me, though I hated that he knew where I lived and had possibly even glanced inside. But he was here, right in front of me, and he wouldn’t be for long. My soul ached with the need to touch him before I no longer had the chance.
He was going to go off and live his life and meet new people, maybe even fall in love, and I was going to be here, finding what joy I could in the earth and the sky and warm Laundromats—small joys within the parameters I’d been given—but mostly, mostly just existing and trying to get by day by day by day.
An intense wave of need to make the most of what might be our last moment rose inside, drowning my usual reticence and the words fell from my lips, “We could . . . dance.” I blinked, holding my breath for a few seconds before releasing it in a barely controlled exhale. “So you can at least dance just once on the night of your senior prom. Especially since I’m kind of the reason you’re missing it.” The final words faded into nothing, my heart pounding in my ears.
He stared at me, his eyes darting to my mouth, and then quickly back to my eyes. He looked slightly startled and backed up a step, opening his mouth as if to say something and then closing it again. “I . . . no. I can’t. I’m sorry.”
I stared at him for a second, feeling a cold sinking in my stomach at being turned down, at the way he was moving away from me as if he didn’t want to be near me. Didn’t want to touch me.
Oh. Oh God.
Realization dawned. Of course. I’d almost forgotten about the bedbugs. I felt suddenly nauseated. Of course he wouldn’t want to get close to me. What had I been thinking? He had defended me before Alicia, but he was still revolted by me. There had been a moment of kindness in his eyes—how he’d used to look at me—but now it was gone. He was gone. “Okay,” I whispered. I turned abruptly and began stuffing the rest of my laundry into the bag.