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“So
am I.”
     

 
     
     
    Chapter Five
    “Can I talk to you for a minute? Like . . .  not
through this window?” Weston was pleading with his big emerald eyes. He’d been
looking at me that way off and on for a week, in the hallway and in the classes
we shared. I knew he wanted to say something to me, but things had been awkward
between us since he dropped me off at my house several nights before.
    I looked to Frankie. She pursed her lips and motioned for me to
go to the back door.
    “Yeah . . . yeah, you can uh . . . meet me in the back.”
    I turned on my heels and made my way to the back, every muscle in
my body tense from my face to my toes. I pushed open the door, and Weston
stepped inside. We stood alone in the storage room, with harsh fluorescent lighting
making me look as horrible as possible, surrounded by boxes of syrup and
toppings, and the weird smell from the drain wafting in the air. He didn’t say
anything at first, and my eyes drifted, targeting everything in the room except
him, while I waited for him to speak.
    “I’m a dick,” he said, his eyebrows pulling in.
    “What?”
    “I’m worse than a dick. I’m a coward. I should have said
something a long time ago. When you stood up to Erin, it just … gave me my
balls back I guess. They’re so damn mean, and I didn’t want any of that
directed at me, but . . . they’re girls. They’re teenage girls, and I’m ashamed
that I’ve been too intimidated to say anything. Especially to Brady. What kind
of asshole lets an asshole like that speak to a woman the way he speaks to you?
I hated it. I’ve hated it for years, and I just tried to ignore it.”
    I shook my head. Brady, Brendan, and the Erins had said a few
things to me that week, but nothing out of the ordinary. I wasn’t sure what had
Weston so riled up. “It’s okay. I don’t expect you to . . .”
    “I know you don’t. I’ve been thinking about this all week. All
month. I’m not going to let them, or anyone else, treat you like that anymore.”
I wasn’t sure what look I had on my face, but Weston suddenly seemed nervous. “What?”
    “I don’t know . . . I mean . . . you still haven’t said why?”
    He sighed. “I know. We’re two months away from grad, and they’ve
been torturing you since grade school. I can’t go back, but I can make it up to
you.”
    “That’s it? That’s your reason? You suddenly grew a conscience?”
    He winced. “Ouch.”
    I crossed my arms. “Frankie has a long line out there, so let’s
get to the point. You’re like a different person. You’ve turned against all of
your friends and are hanging out with me, who you’ve barely spoken to since
kindergarten. I think it’s fair for me to ask why.”
    “I’ve talked to you as much as I could.”
    “As you could ?”
    He coughed into the crook of his arm. “That’s not what I meant.”
    “I don’t need you to save me, Weston. I’ve handled things on my
own for a long time. I’m not a charity case.”
    He frowned. “I never said you were.”
    “We’d both probably be better off if you just returned to life as
normal, and left me alone.”
    He winced, like my words had physically hurt him. “That’s
bullshit. You don’t really feel that way, do you?”
    “I don’t know how I feel!”
    “Neither do I!” he said, wheezing. He pulled his inhaler from his
pocket and took a puff. After a few moments, he began again, this time calmer. “I
don’t know what I want to do with the rest of my life. And I feel like . . . I
feel like you’re the only person in the world that doesn’t expect me to. What I
do know is that I wasn’t happy about the direction my life was going until you
got into my truck that first night. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, Erin.
I’m just . . . I’m winging it. I was kinda hoping you would wing it with me.”
    Despite every negative thought running through my head, my lips curved
up.
    He slowly pulled me against his chest and hugged me. His