Chapter 8
After the first semester ended, I had a month–long break to go back to the States. I flew back with a senior from school. His family was running late, so while he waited, he walked with me for a bit and helped carry my luggage.
As soon as we stepped out of the station, I saw Erik. He looked thinner
and somehow taller.
No jokes, no weird tension. He just quietly took my suitcase from the senior and walked beside me like a normal person.
At 19, it seemed like he had finally figured out how to act decent.
He suddenly stopped and asked, “Who was that guy?”
“Just a senior I know pretty well,” I replied.
Erik looked at me for a second, then said, “Be careful when you’re out there. Don’t trust people so easily.”
“A lot of international students aren’t exactly what they seem.”
I glanced up at him with hesitation in my eyes. “Maybe not.”
“I think my boyfriend’s actually really nice.”
He froze.
I spotted my stepdad’s car in the lot and jogged over to open the door.
My mom was in the passenger seat. “Where’s Erik? Didn’t he come pick you up?”
Chapter
I dropped my backpack onto the floor. “He is taking his time.”
“I wanted to see you faster, so I ran ahead.”
My mom smiled. “I asked Janine to grab some groceries earlier. I’ll head back and cook your favorite dishes,” my mom said..
Three minutes passed. Erik still had not shown up. My stepdad called him, and eventually he came over, sliding into the backseat. My backpack sat between us.
He kept his head down, eyes red. I had no idea what was going through his mind..
At dinner, Erik stayed quiet and distant–nothing new. He never cared much about putting on a good face. Everyone had pretty much gotten used to it.
After eating, I did not go upstairs. Instead, I went out to the garden and sat on the swing. The fallen orange–red leaves rustled softly underfoot. Erik came out too.
He stood behind me. His voice was low and kind of rough. “Do you actually like someone, or did you just make up this boyfriend to get under my skin?”
I lightly dragged my toes through the grass, slowing the swing.
“Why would I want to mess with you about that?
“Does it even bother you?”
He did not answer that.
“What’s his name?”
“Christopher Blom,” I said simply.
Chapter 8
I was not playing games or lying just to get his attention. I really was dating him.
“You’ve only been abroad three months, Hallie.”
I nodded calmly. “Yeah, and we just got together recently. That’s why I didn’t let him delay his own plans to fly back with me.”
Erik took a deep breath. “Is he rich?”
“Not sure,” I said, “Probably not as rich as you.‘”
Honestly, very few people are. Back in high school, Erik used to transfer money in amounts that made your jaw drop.
Suddenly, he grabbed the rope of the swing. The rough rope scratched his hand, and when the swing came to a stop, there was blood on his palm.
He stepped in front of me and leaned down, way too close. His eyes were dark, colder than the autumn wind around us.
“What exactly do you like about him?”
Too close.
I turned my face away and leaned back. “He’s a really good guy,” I said quietly.
“Excuse me, I want to go back to my room.”
