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“We can take a raincheck,” Archer tells her. “You can cash it in later.”
“Good,” Lyric says, snuggling close.
Things are deceptively peaceful right now. I wish that everything between us wasn’t so fucked up, that we could go back to being the Hudson Boys and Lyric again like we used to be.
But life isn’t like that and Lyric gets up after a few more minutes of rest. “I need to go get my son,” she says. “I left him with a babysitter, but I have to put him to bed.”
As I watch her leave, my heart squeezes in my chest, a painful reminder that nothing has been resolved and Lyric isn’t the same kid we knew in high school. She’s an entirely different person now, with new priorities and a different mindset.
Whatever I want, it isn’t possible. I let myself get caught up in the moment tonight, but I have to remember that this means nothing. It’s just sex.
19
LYRIC
After the intensity of the other night, I feel like my mind is a tangled mess of complicated emotions. I can’t help the flutter that rises in my chest when the boys look at me with those lingering, hungry looks or how good I feel whenever I hear their praise. Falling for them again feels inevitable, like slipping into a warm, familiar dream.
Still, I can't let myself get hurt again. Not after everything they've put me through.
The sun filters through the campus trees as I walk, casting dappled shadows on the ground. My thoughts are a whirlwind of confusion and longing. I know better than to trust them, but my heart doesn’t seem to listen to reason.
As I approach the student lounge, I spot a familiar face sitting on one of the benches. Madison Clement. The last person I want to see. Her presence sends a jolt through me, a painful reminder of the fact that the past never truly leaves you.
She waves, a bright smile on her face. “Lyric! Long time no see.”
I force a smile, trying to keep my emotions in check. “Madison. What are you doing here?”
Madison stands and walks over, her eyes wide with what looks like genuine excitement. “I saw you at the car wash the other day! You look… different. In a good way.”
I cross my arms, trying to create some distance. “Yeah, well, a lot has changed.”
She laughs, the sound light and easy. “No kidding. I’ve missed you, you know. After everything, you withdrew and I never saw you anymore.”
My heart races, but I keep my expression neutral. “Things changed, Madison. I had to grow up. You know that. Everything is different now.”
She tilts her head, her smile softening. “I know. That’s why I want to catch up with you and find out everything that happened.”
I hesitate, the memories of our past swirling in my mind. But there’s a part of me that missed the easy friendship between us back then, that wants to find a simple connection in these tumultuous times “Yeah, sure. We can catch up.”
Madison’s smile widens, and she links her arm through mine. “Great! Let’s grab a coffee, then. I want to hear everything about what you’ve been up to.”
As we walk toward the café, I feel the camaraderie easing back between us as we talk about class and what we’ve been up to since graduation.
“I’m sorry about what happened at the car wash,” Madison says as we slide into our seats at the nearby cafe. Indie music pumps softly through the speakers and the scents of fresh grounds and sweet syrups fill the air.
“What happened?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“I meant with the boys flirting with me. I know you guys have a complicated history and I think maybe they were trying to make you jealous.”
“Oh, I didn’t notice,” I say, giving her a reassuring smile. “You don’t have to worry about it. It’s no big deal.”
“Oh, good, I’m glad,” Madison says, flipping a lock of hair over her shoulder. “You look good,” she says, though her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes, so I know she’s just trying to make me feel better. I’m wearing a blue T-shirt under a denim jacket and some denim shorts, with scuffed black Converse.
She always had the classic girl-next-door look, but she’s grown even more glamorous in college, it seems. Her pink- and white-pinstriped jacket compliments her low-cut halter blouse, and she’s wearing pretty rose-gold hoops in each ear, blonde hair looking like she’s had a recent blow-out. A far cry from the prim and proper uniforms we wore at Crestwood. She’s tall and slender and everything I’m not. I’d always envied Madison’s effortlessly chic looks.
“Nah, I look like a frumpy mess,” I say, tucking a frizzy curl behind my ear. “Running around after my kid means I don’t usually have time for myself, you know?”
“Oh that’s right,” Madison says, eyes lighting up. “Your son is a little over a year old now, isn’t he? What was his name?”
