Slowly We Trust (Fall and Rise #3)(24)
Author: Chelsea M. Cameron

“That’s up to you,” Lottie said. “And her. It’s up to you. Together. But you have to decide what you want, and how far you’re willing to go to get it. What you’re willing to accept, or forgive.” Anything. I’d accept or forgive her anything without hesitation. That was a stupid question.

I loved her. Nothing she said, or did, could change that. But a relationship was two people. I could love her more than anything, but it could never work if she didn’t love me back. If she could even love me back.

Lottie sensed my mental distress and came to give me a hug.

“I’m here for you, William. Your heart is my heart. When you hurt, I hurt. I wish I could wave a wand and make this better for you.” I hugged her back and swallowed hard. “Love sucks, doesn’t it?”

Yes. It did.

Once again, I was jerking Will around. It made me feel awful, and I knew it made him feel awful, but I just couldn’t seem to stop. Whenever we got close to anything physical, I would absolutely freak out and put a stop to it.

Not because I didn’t want to be with Will. Oh, I definitely did. More than I’d admit. At night, when my mind would wander, I would imagine how it would be with him.

And then I would remember seeing Eddie again, something so unexpected that I was definitely still in shock about it.

When I’d closed that chapter in my life, I’d shoved him so far to the back of my mind that it was almost like he’d never existed.

I thought about telling Will. Imagining his reaction, wondering what he would say. How he would take it.

But those thoughts would just lead to me imagining the worst case scenario, where he stormed out and said he couldn’t deal with it, and then I’d lose him. But it wouldn’t just be Will. I’d lose Lottie and the rest of them, too. Above all, that was what I couldn’t let happen. So if that meant keeping my secret forever, that was what I’d do.

In an effort to get my mind to think about something else, I threw myself into my work. Before I’d met Lottie, and during my senior year of high school, homework was just about all I did. I’d done it before and I could do it again.

I spent most of my time at the library, hiding in a corner so no one could find me. Will and Lottie and everyone else would call or text and I’d ignore them. I claimed to be busy with classes, which was the truth. The only downside was the class I had with Lottie, because when I looked at her, the only thing I could see was Will. They shared so many features and sometimes she would make a face and all I could see was him making the exact same face. It made my heart twist in uncomfortable ways.

Not that Lottie intentionally made things harder for me. But every now and then her words would get the best of her and she’d ramble on about Will and then things would get a little weird.

“I’m so sorry,” she’d say, her face completely red. I’d assure her it was fine, but it still made things harder.

I ended up spending a lot of time with Trish. She didn’t remind me of Will so much, and she had the ability to not talk for hours, as long as I didn’t mind her smoking occasionally. It was trade-off.

“So what was the deal with you and that guy? You bang him?” she said one afternoon after both of us had gotten back from class as we stood in the designated smoking area outside my dorm.

No one had directly asked me that specific question. Will and Lottie had bought my other explanation and spread it to the others, who had accepted it without question.

One good thing about being honest 99 percent of the time was that the one time you needed to lie, people believed you.

But Trish was more skeptical than most.

“You did, didn’t you?” she said, stubbing out her cigarette in the bucket as we headed back inside.

I still didn’t say anything until we got up to my room and she flopped down on my extra bed.

“You don’t have to say yes or no. Your silence is enough of an answer. But don’t worry, I keep my mouth shut.” She grinned and put her hands behind her head.

“Thanks,” I said.

“No problem. The only thing I don’t get is why anyone would care if you were with another guy. Now, if you were with a girl, or you got married or something, that would be different.” I turned away to fiddle with my dresser so she wouldn’t see my face. Granted, she hadn’t gotten it exactly right, but if she kept guessing, she might.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop fishing. But you know I won’t be the only one who wants to know your deep dark secret.” I tried to make my face calm and passive as I turned around.

“Do you have one?” The only way to get the heat off me was to turn it on her. I hated to do it, but I was desperate.

“Maybe . . . but doesn’t everyone?” She smiled one of her rare smiles and then stared up at the ceiling.

“I guess.” I couldn’t imagine Will having a dark secret. He didn’t seem the secret type. Plus, any secret he would have he shared with Lottie. Nor did she seem like the secret type. She was terrible at keeping secrets. They’d come out without her even knowing.

“I don’t want to talk about secrets, especially my secrets. How are you?” Trish usually bristled at personal questions and just gave a sarcastic response.

“I’m f**king peachy,” she said, which I’d expected. She’d taken the death of her friend Ric really hard, but she liked to pretend she hadn’t. I hoped she at least talked with Max about it, since they’d been close at the funeral.

“Everything good with the boy?” She glared and tucked her hair behind her ears.

“Sex is good. What more could you want?” Okay, something was definitely up with her. I sat near her feet at the edge of the bed and waited.

“We’re good, I swear. I just . . . I never thought I could care about someone this much.” She mumbled the words, as if she was admitting to some terrible crime.

“For a girl who claims to love Nicholas Sparks, you’re certainly an anti-romantic.” I wasn’t supposed to mention her secret book obsession, technically, but I took the risk.

“It’s not that I don’t believe in that crazy, all-consuming, can’t-breathe-without-you kind of thing. Just not for me. Those kinds of stories aren’t for bitches like me. But we can all fantasize, right? Some people get off on bondage or peeing in public. I get off on sappy love stories.” There was a lot of weird in what she’d just said, but I got it.

“Well, what if those kind of stories are for you?” They definitely weren’t for me, that was for sure. But someone like Trish, who had been through so much, she deserved a great love. A blue-haired boy who thought she was the sweetest girl in the world, even when she wasn’t.