Chapter Six

Felicity is still standing beside Drevin’s truck when my shift ends.

I know because I check.

Several times.

Fine.

Six.

By the time I untie my apron, her friends are gone, but Felicity hasn’t moved.

She’s leaning against the passenger door with her mostly empty cold brew while Drevin stands in front of her.

They’re talking.

That’s all.

Two people talking.

Completely normal.

Except Felicity keeps touching him.

His arm when she laughs.

His shoulder when she says something I can’t hear.

Once, the center of his chest.

Drevin doesn’t move away.

Which shouldn’t bother me.

It does.

“Are you planning to sleep here?”

Tessa asks.

I tear my eyes from the window.

“What?”

“You’ve been off for five minutes.”

“I’m leaving.”

“Sure.”

She looks outside.

Then at me.

“You want me to accidentally spill something on her?”

Despite myself, I laugh.

“No.”

“I could make it look convincing.”

“You’re terrible.”

“I’m loyal.”

I grab my bag.

“I can handle Felicity.”

Tessa’s expression softens.

“I know.”

The answer settles something inside me.

I sling my bag over my shoulder.

“See you tomorrow.”

“Text me if you need bail money.”

“For what?”

She smiles.

“Whatever happens next.”

I roll my eyes and push through the door.

The evening air smells like pine and rain even though the sky is still clear.

For half a second, I consider walking the other direction.

My car is parked farther down the street. I could cross at the next corner and avoid them completely.

Which is exactly why I don’t.

I’m not changing how I move through my own town because Felicity Greenley is standing beside my best friend.

I step off the curb.

Drevin sees me immediately.

His attention shifts.

Felicity notices.

Her hand falls away from his arm.

“Hey, Cam.”

Drevin smiles.

Easy.

Familiar.

Like there isn’t something wrong between us.

“Hey.”

I stop beside them.

Felicity gives me a pleasant smile.

“Done for the day?”

“Thankfully.”

“Camille made our drinks earlier,” she tells Drevin.

Drevin’s gaze sharpens.

“You two talked?”

Felicity answers lightly. “A little.”

His eyes move to me.

“What did she say?”

I blink.

Felicity’s smile goes stiff.

“I’m standing right here.”

Drevin doesn’t even look at her.

“I know.”

A small, ugly part of me enjoys that.

Only for about two seconds.

Because then I remember whose truck she’s leaning against.

“I’m fine,” I say.

His jaw tightens.

“I didn’t ask if you were fine.”

“And I didn’t ask you to interrogate me.”

“Cam.”

“Drevin.”

Felicity glances between us.

“I should probably go.”

Neither of us answers.

She pushes away from the truck.

Then she looks at Drevin.

“Text me later?”

Something unpleasant twists beneath my ribs.

Drevin hesitates.

Barely.

“Yeah.”

Felicity smiles.

Then she walks away.

I watch until she reaches the corner.

Drevin watches me.

“What?”

I turn toward him.

“You tell me.”

His brows pull together.

“What does that mean?”

“You were the one demanding to know what she said.”

“Because I know what she’s like.”

The answer lands harder than I expect.

I stare at him.

“Exactly.”

Drevin’s expression changes.

“Exactly what?”

“You know what she’s like.”

“I just said that.”

“And yet you’re standing out here with her.”

Silence.

For the first time since I crossed the street, Drevin seems caught off guard.

I fold my arms.

“You know what she’s done to me.”

“Camille—”

“No. You do.”

“I know.”

“All of it?”

His jaw tightens.

“Yes.”

The rumors in freshman year.

The comments about my body after I gained weight one summer.

The party I stopped going to because Felicity made sure everyone knew I hadn’t been invited in the first place.

The whispers.

The jokes that were never technically jokes.

Drevin knows.

He was there for most of it.

He’s the one who sat with me when I cried over things I pretended didn’t matter.

He’s the one who told me Felicity was miserable enough to need other people miserable too.

He’s the one who once threatened to dump an entire pitcher of punch over her head after she made me leave a school dance early.

And now—

“Why are you hanging out with her?”

Drevin looks away.

That hurts more than an answer probably would.

“She came over.”

I laugh once.

“No.”

His eyes return to mine.

“No what?”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s what happened.”

“She came over, so you had to stand here for an hour flirting with her?”

“I wasn’t flirting with her.”

“She had her hands all over you.”

His expression shifts.

Something almost amused.

“Were you watching me?”

My face burns.

“Don’t.”

The amusement disappears.

“Fine.”

“You’re missing the point.”

“I’m not.”

“Then explain it to me.”

He drags a hand through his hair.

“There’s nothing to explain.”

“That’s convenient.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know, Drevin. Maybe why my best friend suddenly barely touches me, barely comes around, acts like I’m asking too much when I want to know where he’s disappearing to—”

His face goes tight.

“Cam—”

“—but apparently has plenty of time for someone he knows has spent years treating me like garbage.”

That silences him.

Good.

Because I’m tired of feeling crazy.

Tired of pretending I haven’t noticed.

Tired of swallowing every question because asking might make me sound needy.

Drevin steps closer.

“This isn’t about Felicity.”

I let out a humorless laugh.

“It became about Felicity when I walked out of work and found her hanging all over you.”

“Nothing is happening.”

I hate how quickly relief tries to rise inside me.

I crush it.

“That still doesn’t answer me.”

“What do you want from me, Camille?”

The frustration in his voice makes my chest ache.

“I want my best friend back.”

His entire face changes.

Just for a second.

Pain.

Real pain.

Then it closes.

“I’m right here.”

“No, you’re not.”

The words come quietly.

His jaw clenches.

“You’re making this bigger than it is.”

That one hurts.

I step back.

“Okay.”

Drevin immediately looks like he regrets it.

“Camille.”

“No. You’re right.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“You keep saying that lately.”

He goes still.

I look toward the street where Felicity disappeared.

“What did she say?” he asks again.

The anger comes back fast.

I laugh incredulously.

“You cannot be serious.”

“What?”

“You don’t get to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Stand here defending me from Felicity while choosing to spend time with her.”

“I’m not defending you.”

“Then what are you doing?”

His mouth opens.

Nothing comes out.

Exactly.

I shake my head.

“She made some comments about my birthday. My shift. You.”

Drevin’s eyes darken.

“What about me?”

“That you’d eventually grow out of following me around.”

His face hardens instantly.

“She said that?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

“Why?”

“Because she doesn’t get to talk to you like that.”

I stare at him.

The irony is almost unbelievable.

“But she gets to text you?”

His mouth closes.

“She gets to touch you?”

“Camille—”

“She gets your time?”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

He doesn’t answer.

I step closer.

“How, Drevin?”

Something flickers across his expression.

Fear.

Anger.

Something else.

“I can handle Felicity,” I say.

“I know.”

The answer is immediate.

Firm.

“I know you can.”

“Then stop acting like you need to save me from her.”

“I’m not trying to save you.”

“Good.”

I swallow around the tightness in my throat.

“Because right now I’d settle for understanding why you seem more comfortable standing beside her than standing beside me.”

That hits.

I see it.

His entire body goes rigid.

For one second I think he’s finally going to say it.

Whatever has been eating at him.

Whatever made him pull away.

Whatever he’s so afraid to tell me.

Instead, Drevin looks past my shoulder.

“You should go home.”

I stare at him.

“That’s it?”

“Your mom said dinner was at six, didn’t she?”

My chest feels hollow.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Cam.”

I reach for my car door.

He catches my wrist.

The touch stops both of us.

Warm fingers around my skin.

Familiar.

Wanted.

Drevin looks down at where he’s touching me.

And releases me immediately.

Like he’s remembered he isn’t supposed to.

There it is again.

That rejection.

Small.

Silent.

Impossible to pretend I imagined.

I look at him.

“Whatever this is,” I say quietly, “I wish you’d just tell me.”

Drevin’s eyes meet mine.

For a moment, the mask slips.

And the look on his face scares me more than anger would.

Because Drevin doesn’t look annoyed.

He looks miserable.

“I can’t.”

Two words.

That’s all.

I stop breathing.

Not there’s nothing to tell.

Not you’re imagining things.

I can’t.

Before I can ask what that means, his phone buzzes.

The screen lights in his hand.

I don’t mean to look.

But I do.

Felicity.

Drevin turns the phone facedown.

Too late.

I open my car door.

“Camille.”

I get inside.

“Go text her back.”

His face falls.

I close the door before he can answer.

And for the first time all week, I stop wondering whether Drevin is pulling away from me.

He is.

The only thing I don’t understand is why he seems to be moving toward her instead.