Chapter 10

As soon as Harlow stepped out of the van, she went straight to the log by the firepit and sat her ass down. I assumed she wanted me to start the fire for her, so that's what I did. Then I noticed she was rubbing her arms, and I assumed she was still cold, so I got the cleanest sweatshirt I could find from the back of my van and gave it to her.

Now she's wearing it.

But it's so damn big on her that the sleeves fall past her hands, and she tucks them under her arms as she looks around, lifting her gaze above us. You'd think by the look of amazement on her face that she'd never seen solar string lights strung up between trees before. I'd found them at the used goods store a few months ago, and Glenda, the owner, said I could have them. She gives me a lot of things for free. Kind of like how Lana turns a blind eye to all the food that goes missing at the skating rink.

Perks of being the grandson of a notorious mean, old drunk, I guess.

"Did you do this?" Harlow asks, motioning around us.

I don't really know what she means by "this." I cleared a bit of land next to the creek, hung up some lights, built a firepit, and dragged over a fallen log for a place to sit. It's not that special.

"Yeah," I answer and then awkwardly stand between her and my van because she's sitting in my spot. And, sure, there's room for me to sit beside her, and since she's my fake girlfriend and we're fake-dating now, I should probably get used to being close to her.

I sit beside her.

Then, for a solid minute, I watch the ash from the firepit float up, up, up into a new existence, and I ponder what to say or do next. She thinks I hate her, which couldn't be further from the truth, but revealing my feelings would be pointless.

We tried to kiss.

Triedbeing the operative word because what the fuck was that?

"So…" she says out of nowhere, leaning into my side. "With the whole ‘fake girlfriend helping you better yourself' thing…"

She's warm against me, and I'm tempted to put my arm around her, pull her closer. I don't. Instead, I say, "I don't recall stating it in those terms, but okay?"

"You'd be okay doing it with me… knowing my past is what it is?"

"So it's true?" I ask, and it doesn't really matter, but it's all people talk about at school, and Harlow—she doesn't seem like the type to just sit down and take it… if it was just a rumor.

"What if it is?"

I shrug. "I mean, it's not my first choice, but it's not as if I have other options."

"Jesus," she murmurs, and she's pulling away before I can stop her. Not that I'd try.

I turn to her, but don't make eye contact. "What?"

"That was kind of mean, Jace."

I think it's the first time she's ever said my name—at least to me—and I don't know how I feel about it. Harlow's slow intake of breath is a prologue to the silence that then falls between us. I look up at the night sky, wishing the darkness would swallow me whole. I should probably apologize, though I don't really know what for? For telling her the truth?

I open my mouth to speak, but she beats me to it. "Would I have to go to your games?"

I'm grateful for the subject change. In fact, I'm grateful for Harlow in general. I just didn't know how much. "The season doesn't start until November and by then, we would've already…" I trail off.

"Fucked?" she finishes for me, and swear, she says it just to watch me squirm, because it's exactly what I do.

She laughs at my expense, and it doesn't bother me the way it should. Then she scoots closer, resting her head on my shoulder. I can smell her hair—the flowers or spices or whatever—and it makes me dizzy in ways I can't explain. "I haven't been to a game since…"

Shit.

Shit, fuck, shit.

This is why people don't like me, or at the very least, don't like to be around me. I say and do dumb shit without thinking about others. I'm selfish. But at least I know that I'm selfish, and it's the reason I choose to be alone. So I don't hurt the people around me…

…like I'll inevitably end up hurting her.