This Is How It Ends (Page 43)

Sarah knew what I was getting at. “When my mom got into something, she was all in. Like with my dad’s dissertation. Unfortunately,” Sarah said wryly, “that applied to people, too. She met a guy at work.” She looked away and I could see her fighting tears. “And that was that.”

I didn’t know what to say. Her mom sounded like all the things Sarah had said, brilliant and flighty and a little bit nuts. But not in a good way at all. I knew Sarah didn’t see it that way, though. People rarely do when it’s someone they love.

“She wanted me to go with her, but my dad wouldn’t let me,” Sarah said softly. “I think he hoped if I stayed, she would.” She shook her head. “After almost twenty years with her, you’d think he’d know better.”

“I’m sorry.”

“She told me she’d be back.” Sarah shrugged sadly. “I guess she’s just been too busy with another guy or an important project.”

“I can’t imagine what would be more important than you.” It slipped out before I knew it. The words were right, but I could tell I’d said them too honestly, with too much of my own feeling. I felt my face redden.

Sarah met my eyes. “Thanks, Riley,” she said after a minute. “That’s sweet.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I kept quiet. The silence lingered in the stillness of my house. Sarah was close enough that her bent knee touched my leg just barely, but it felt like that spot was lit with a neon heat. I’d been working really hard to ignore the charge between us, the inescapable memories of how it had been to kiss her last time. I was trying to be good, do the right thing.

But then Sarah moved, pressing her leg against me so gently, I might have thought it was unintentional, except for the way her eyes held mine. A tingling raced up my thigh like a trail of sparks. I made some sort of sound, my breath tight and short, and then I was leaning toward her, eyes closing as our lips touched. Everything beyond was gray and dark, my focus totally narrowed to the feel of her cheek brushing mine, breath on my ear making me shiver. We fell back onto the bed, and her hand was on mine, guiding it to her buttons, then moving lower as I fumbled with them, opening her shirt. I sucked in my breath at the sight of her pale skin.

And then I saw her necklace. Light glinted off the locket Trip had given her last year, a picture of the two of them inside.

“Oh God, Sarah.” I pulled back, away from her. I kid you not, it was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done. “I can’t. God knows I want to.”

Fool! my inner fourteen-year-old screamed. How long have you been waiting for this? You’re blowing it, you idiot!

Fourteen-year-olds can be very cruel.

I looked away while she scooted up toward my pillow, buttoning her shirt, then hugging her legs to her chest. Neither of us spoke for a long time.

“Can I ask you something, Riley?” she said finally.

“What?”

“Have you ever . . . done it before?”

What? I hadn’t expected that one. “Not in real life,” I answered.

She laughed softly. “You know, a shrink might say you use humor to cover insecurity.”

“I prefer to think of it as lightening terribly awkward situations.”

She smiled. “That too.”

I hoped she wouldn’t go into what else a shrink might say about my being here with her—Trip’s girlfriend—the way his dad and my mom . . . Ugh, I couldn’t even think about it.

“Why?” Sarah asked.

“Why what?”

“Why haven’t you?” she said. “You’re almost eighteen. You’re smart, good-looking, nice—”

“You’re making me blush.”

“You were already doing that,” she said, not letting it go. “You must have had the opportunity.”

I had, in fact, one night out with Trip. And as far as he knew, I’d taken it. We’d gone to a party at one of the houses on the mountain, some college girls here for the weekend. Trip had fitted their rentals, and one of them had invited him over later.

“Their parents’ll be in Burlington for some dinner,” he said. “It’ll be small—it’s not like they know anyone here. They asked me to bring some friends.”

Trip knew I hated shit like that. Spoiled rich kids one-upping each other, pretending we were all pals, then laughing about us behind our backs. I told him that, and he said I was paranoid. “They can only laugh at you if you give them a reason to, Riley.”

“Come off it, Trip. They’ll laugh at us either way. It’s sport to them—ski during the day, make fun of townies at night.”

“Fine,” he said angrily. “Don’t come.”

But I went, and I think the girls were honestly too wasted to make fun of us. We weren’t there an hour before Trip was taking one to the bedroom.

“Good luck, man,” he said, and winked.

Her friend, who I’d been kind of talking to, grabbed my hand, tried to drag me up. “Lemme show ya round,” she slurred.

I followed her, knowing full well where this was going. We wound up in another bedroom, her beckoning from this massive bed. I went with it, and it got pretty hot, but when it came down to it, I balked. I’m still not sure why.

“You doan wanna?” she slurred.

“I do,” I said, because I did. And it would have ensured I wasn’t that guy, Last Virgin Standing. Not that Trip wouldn’t have found something else to rag on me about.

But this girl was a mess. “I just . . .” I hesitated, then told her the truth. “I don’t really know you.”

She squinted at me like she couldn’t believe it, then burst out laughing. “OMG, how cute are you?” She sat up, not bothering to straighten her clothes. “So this is where they keep all the gentlemen.” Only, it came out “gennelmen.” We ended up talking for a while because I didn’t want to go back out there and look like a total loser. It turned out she was actually nice, and I was kind of sorry I hadn’t done it.

I let Trip believe I had, and he congratulated me over and over on the way home. After telling me in agonizing detail about his adventures.

“It didn’t seem right,” I told Sarah now.

She nodded, as if that were exactly the answer she’d expected. “Can I ask you something else?”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “I’m finding your questions rather forward.”