Page 95 of The Last Special Thing

He stepped closer. Inches from her, he towered above her. She couldn’t breathe, and her hand trembled. She wasn’t scared of the Art she had come to know and love, but this version of him. She pulled back.

His body slacked in response. “Amelia,” he whimpered.

She put her hand up, eyes glistening. “I need to go home.”

She turned, expecting to hear the echo of his footsteps behind her. When she didn’t, she stopped. Over her shoulder, he was gone.

Maybe that was why Lauren told her that you never look back. What if you do and realize you’re alone?

Back inside the apartment, Weston was watching the credits roll. Madisson would stay in the chair until Max came home. The best-case scenario was that Madisson and Art would ignore each other until then.

“Can you take me home?” Amelia asked.

“Of course,” Weston said. She could have sworn a smile crept up on his face, and thorny vines entangled her chest. There was no winner. Weston was a good guy, but any victory he took was at a cost to her.

Predictably, when they arrived at her house, Weston asked if she wanted him to stay, passing the offer off as a concerned friend. Part of that was genuine. Part of it was selfish.

Letting Weston into her house would be letting him into her bed. She could already imagine it starting as nothing, and she would be explicit about that. But then his arm would brush against hers, and she would be too tired to push back as he wrapped her in close. She would excuse it all. They wouldn’t technically cross any lines, and being held after such a long day would be sweet relief. She could play the scene in her head before it even happened.

Even though she didn’t want to be alone, even as Art hurt her, she didn’t want to make any more regrettable decisions. She had already accumulated a lifetime of regret.

“I just want to sleep,” she said.

His eyes found the sky, then dropped to her. He put his arms around her and kissed her on the cheek. “You’ll be okay?”

“Yes,” she falsely promised. She was being torn apart at the seams. Nothing was okay anymore.

“Goodnight, Amelia.” His voice was low.

She made her way to the backyard, feeling his eyes on her until she walked through the ivy gate. In the midnight sky, she glanced up at her parents’ dim window. They had stopped staying up for her.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Amelia spent the next three days doing whatever she could to distract herself from the last conversation with Art.

On the first day, she flushed the Adderall pills. Then she went to Pilates and pushed through the pain. Even without the edge of the prescription drug, Lauren still used Amelia as an example on a shoulder bridge. Walking out on shaky legs, trying to catch her breath, she knew getting rid of the prescription drug had been the right thing.

She didn’t hear from Art that day, but Madisson called. Max had been released from jail first thing in the morning. His parents bailed him out and talked down the assault and battery charges, as well as the public intoxication charges. He was set to go before the judge, but things were looking promising.

On the second day, she scheduled a nail appointment and opted for a classic French manicure. Her technician, Amy, asked about UCLA and told her how much she would miss her. She busted her ass at boot camp class in the evening and kept to herself. Art texted a few times, but she didn’t know what to say. Weston called twice and then texted asking if she was okay. She responded to Weston, saying she was and thanking him, but didn’t keep the conversation going.

On the third day, Art texted her seventeen times. Some were worried, others were angry, and many were declarations of love. She asked Madisson about him, and she shared uneasily that Art hadn’t been home much. Amelia wasn’t sure what that meant, as he hadn’t been with her either. Weston texted three more times, and she left them unanswered.

Madisson and Reyna’s joint “Going Away to College” party was two days away, and she needed to talk to Art before then. She still didn’t know what to say. He had chosen drugs over her and left her alone on shrooms. Doubted her love for him.

As she had changed over the summer, so had he. She wasn’t sure how to get back to normal. What normal even was for them. It was exhilarating, encompassing, but there was also a lot that she wasn’t proud of. Their world wouldn’t work when she was in college, studying and following her dreams.

The slider opening to her room opened, and Lauren walked in.

“We are having a family dinner tonight.” Her voice was firm.

“Sounds good.” It had been over a month since their last dinner.

Lauren paused at her casual acceptance. “So we will see you at 6:30.”

“Yep, I’ll be there.”

Lauren looked around the room, as if expecting to find something amiss. “Well, okay then.” She turned and left.