Wasted Words by Staci Hart

Have faith. Burn together.

My fears disappeared with my breath the moment he entered the room, T-shirt stretched across his chest, hands in his jeans pockets, smiling at me like I was the only person in the room, in the world.

He walked over and stopped behind me. The girls were watching the video again, and he leaned in to look too, his face soft. When it ended, Meg groaned and handed me my phone.

“God, you guys are the cutest thing in the whole world.”

Tyler’s mom set plates in front of all of us with chicken salad sandwiches, complete with chips and a pickle.

He was close enough that I leaned against his torso like he was a chair.

“Hey,” he said, bending down a little. “Wanna have a picnic?”

I craned my neck to look up at him, smiling. “Sure.”

He kissed the top of my head and disappeared for a second, appearing again with a hoodie on and a Mexican blanket folded under his arms. We picked up our plates and headed out the back door to the smiles and approval of his family.

The back yard wasn’t even a yard — it was acreage with no visible fences, bearing a huge garden in the middle of it and a deck in the center. A pagoda stood there with hanging swings and chairs. I thought we’d head that way, but I followed him off the path and toward one of the big trees, an oak, I thought. When we reached it, he handed me his plate and spread out the blanket on the orange and gold leaves, and we sat, alone for the first time since we’d seen each other.

I didn’t even want to eat anymore. I just wanted to curl up in him and lie there forever.

He seemed to feel the same way, taking our plates, setting them out of the way so he could scoot close to me. And we lay down, our eyes peering up into the branches of the tree, deep reds and oranges, dotted by blue sky.

His arm was around me, holding me into his side, his bicep under my head like a pillow. “I think they like you.”

I chuckled. “I hope they do. They went so far out of their way to help me.”

“I’m not surprised. They know how I feel about you.” He was quiet for a moment. “What happened when I left?” he asked softly.

I pulled in a breath and let it out. “I cried. A lot.”

His arm tightened, and he kissed my hair.

“I ate cupcakes. That helped a little. Then I slept. Yesterday, I woke up and turned on the game. I saw you on the sidelines and …” I swallowed. “I dunno. I just kind of lost it again. And when I talked to Rose, I realized it was because I was being stupid.”

“Not stupid. Scared, but not stupid.”

“An asshole.”

“No. Stop it, Cam.”

I sighed, my eyes on the leaves as the wind blew the branches. A few leaves let go and fluttered down to us.

“Did you know Kyle was at the game?” he asked.

I blinked, stunned. “No.”

“He was being recognized for a donation he made. He came to talk to me on the sidelines.” Tyler paused. “He told me about the party. About what he said.”

Cold worry ran in my veins.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Cam?”

“Because I believed him.”

He sighed. “You believed him over me.”

I took a breath. “It wasn’t just because of Kyle.”

“What do you mean?”

I waited through a heartbeat, then another. “It was what I wanted to talk to you about before you left. I don’t know why I didn’t talk to you about it before. I guess because I don’t really talk about it to anyone.”

“Talk about what?” he asked gently.

I felt him watching me, but I kept my eyes above us, tracing the line of the branches that split off like veins, like capillaries in lungs. “A long time ago, I thought I loved a boy. I was in high school, and he was a beautiful, popular boy. And I was nobody, just a bookworm in glasses. But he saw me when I thought I was invisible.”

He didn’t say anything, just held me, waiting for me to continue.

“I trusted him, even though we kept it a secret. I … I gave myself to him. He was my first, and I thought …”

Tyler squeezed me, and I knew he already understood. The knowledge gave me courage.

“The next day at school, he barely acknowledged me. He was back with his ex, and he told me he was sorry.” I sighed at the emptiness of it. “The saddest thing was that I think he really did care about me. But we were too different, he said. From different worlds. He was on the homecoming court, and I was the president of the Mathletes. So I decided I’d never date anyone who I didn’t feel like was my equal ever again.”

“Cam…” The word was full of pain, and I looked up at him. He watched me, his eyes sad, brow furrowed with worry. But I reached up and touched his face.

“So that’s why. It’s dumb, a million years ago. And the most important thing is that you’re not him. You would never treat me like he did, and I know that. I’ve known that, but after it happened, I just wanted to fix it. Fortify myself, protect myself from it ever happening again. But I was wrong, because that hurt me and you.”

“It’s not dumb. I wish you had told me.”

“I’m sorry, Tyler.”

“Don’t apologize. I know why. But I want you to know that if you give me your heart, I’ll take care of it. I’ll protect it with my last breath.”

I turned in his arms and looked up at him, my eyes welling with tears. “My heart was yours from the beginning whether I gave it or not, but I’m giving it to you of my own free will.”

He touched my face.