sorry too.”
“You know…” He probably just wanted me to drop it. But I couldn’t help myself. “I wouldn’t have told a soul.”
He sighed into the phone. “I know that, Scarlet. That’s not why I didn’t tell you. With you, I just don’t want to be that guy. That guy with all the issues.”
That made me suck in a breath. Because I’d done exactly the same thing — made exactly the same choice. He didn’t know a thing about me, because I didn’t want to be that girl.
“Are you still there?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Does that make sense?”
“It makes more sense than you’ll ever know,” I said.
I didn’t know if I’d see Bridger in class on Thursday, but he came in right on time, flopping into the seat next to mine. Wordlessly, I put my hand on his lap, palm up. And he took it, stroking my thumb with his.
“You take her to school in the morning?” I asked quietly.
He nodded. “She starts at eight thirty, which is why I gave myself nine o’clock classes every day of the week.”
“She’s so cute,” I said, squeezing his hand.
“Yeah, she is.” He squeezed back. “What are you up to this weekend?”
“I’m writing my psychology paper. And probably watching some fascinating reruns of Dancing with the Stars. You?”
“I’m doing a bunch of chemistry homework. And attending a fascinating puppet show at the public library.”
As always, it was a struggle to tear my eyes away from his handsome face when the professor began class at the front of the room.
“I’m sorry to keep asking questions,” I said later, picking at my salad in the student center.
“Fire away,” he sighed. “Like I said, I didn’t want to be that guy. But I am that guy. And it’s a relief not to lie to you anymore.” He took a bite of his burrito.
I love you , I thought, watching him, happy to see him eating again. Out loud I said “so, what brought about The Most Pointless Night Ever?”
He laughed. “That is an excellent question. Okay, so Lucy was invited to a birthday party, and she was so excited. And I got her over to the other little girl’s house right on time, with a wrapped gift — just like you’re supposed to.”
He flashed me one of his killer smiles, and my heart melted a little more, just thinking about this hunky guy wrapping up a nine-year-old’s party gift.
“…But when I got there, the mom says, ‘where’s her sleeping bag?’” Bridger put a hand to his forehead. “It was supposed to be a sleepover . And I’m totally on the spot, because I didn’t read the invitation carefully. And the mom is like ‘never mind, she can use one of ours, she can borrow pajamas.’ So I looked like an ass. But then all of a sudden I was alone for the night.”
I shook my head, as if I could erase the whole debacle. “Could we bribe that mom into giving another slumber party?”
“Believe me, I had the same thought.” His green eyes flashed at me.
“How do you keep your grades up?” I asked.
“That’s actually the easy part. Because I’m home every night in a silent room from eight o’clock on. I have a clip-on light I use on my books, or I work on my computer.”
“What’s the hard part?”
He shrugged. “Hiding her. If I didn’t have to hide her, nothing would be all that difficult. And the money. Feeding her isn’t expensive, but when the spring term ends, I’ll have to find us some place to live.”
“There must be people in your entryway who have noticed that she’s around all the time.”
“Oh, there are,” he said, swigging back some milk. “The guy across the fire door from me is the only one who knows the whole truth. He’s propped the door open a couple times when I’ve had to run out at night, babysitting for me.”
“That’s handy,” I said. Fire doors were a strange feature of the Harkness dorms. They were unlocked, wooden doors connecting one room to another, so that every room had two means of egress.
“The guys on my floor —
“You know…” He probably just wanted me to drop it. But I couldn’t help myself. “I wouldn’t have told a soul.”
He sighed into the phone. “I know that, Scarlet. That’s not why I didn’t tell you. With you, I just don’t want to be that guy. That guy with all the issues.”
That made me suck in a breath. Because I’d done exactly the same thing — made exactly the same choice. He didn’t know a thing about me, because I didn’t want to be that girl.
“Are you still there?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Does that make sense?”
“It makes more sense than you’ll ever know,” I said.
I didn’t know if I’d see Bridger in class on Thursday, but he came in right on time, flopping into the seat next to mine. Wordlessly, I put my hand on his lap, palm up. And he took it, stroking my thumb with his.
“You take her to school in the morning?” I asked quietly.
He nodded. “She starts at eight thirty, which is why I gave myself nine o’clock classes every day of the week.”
“She’s so cute,” I said, squeezing his hand.
“Yeah, she is.” He squeezed back. “What are you up to this weekend?”
“I’m writing my psychology paper. And probably watching some fascinating reruns of Dancing with the Stars. You?”
“I’m doing a bunch of chemistry homework. And attending a fascinating puppet show at the public library.”
As always, it was a struggle to tear my eyes away from his handsome face when the professor began class at the front of the room.
“I’m sorry to keep asking questions,” I said later, picking at my salad in the student center.
“Fire away,” he sighed. “Like I said, I didn’t want to be that guy. But I am that guy. And it’s a relief not to lie to you anymore.” He took a bite of his burrito.
I love you , I thought, watching him, happy to see him eating again. Out loud I said “so, what brought about The Most Pointless Night Ever?”
He laughed. “That is an excellent question. Okay, so Lucy was invited to a birthday party, and she was so excited. And I got her over to the other little girl’s house right on time, with a wrapped gift — just like you’re supposed to.”
He flashed me one of his killer smiles, and my heart melted a little more, just thinking about this hunky guy wrapping up a nine-year-old’s party gift.
“…But when I got there, the mom says, ‘where’s her sleeping bag?’” Bridger put a hand to his forehead. “It was supposed to be a sleepover . And I’m totally on the spot, because I didn’t read the invitation carefully. And the mom is like ‘never mind, she can use one of ours, she can borrow pajamas.’ So I looked like an ass. But then all of a sudden I was alone for the night.”
I shook my head, as if I could erase the whole debacle. “Could we bribe that mom into giving another slumber party?”
“Believe me, I had the same thought.” His green eyes flashed at me.
“How do you keep your grades up?” I asked.
“That’s actually the easy part. Because I’m home every night in a silent room from eight o’clock on. I have a clip-on light I use on my books, or I work on my computer.”
“What’s the hard part?”
He shrugged. “Hiding her. If I didn’t have to hide her, nothing would be all that difficult. And the money. Feeding her isn’t expensive, but when the spring term ends, I’ll have to find us some place to live.”
“There must be people in your entryway who have noticed that she’s around all the time.”
“Oh, there are,” he said, swigging back some milk. “The guy across the fire door from me is the only one who knows the whole truth. He’s propped the door open a couple times when I’ve had to run out at night, babysitting for me.”
“That’s handy,” I said. Fire doors were a strange feature of the Harkness dorms. They were unlocked, wooden doors connecting one room to another, so that every room had two means of egress.
“The guys on my floor —
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