3 Sides to a Circle (11 page)

“Don’t be so dramatic, Libby.”

“It
was.
They thought you were gay. They wrote DIE FAG on your arms.”

This is the worst part, I think.
On a lot of levels. Not that I was mistaken for a gay guy, but that I’m going to a school in a town with such open animosity toward gay people. It’s like being in small-town Nebraska all over again. And it means that really no one is safe. I can’t help thinking about Libby kissing Honor and now instead of turned on, I’m just scared.

“I don’t want this to be a big production. I want to go back to classes and try to make up my work. I want to finish the semester. I want to be…”

Safe
.

I don’t say it, but it hangs
between us and I know that Honor, at least, sees it in my face.

“You should be pissed off,” Libby says. “I’m pissed off for you. I mean I’ve been all over the cops in getting them to find these guys.”

“How’s that working out for you?” I catch Honor’s eyes and she gives me a small smile. We both can guess what the cops think of our purple-haired pixie friend.

“They’re stonewalling me. Which is why I want to get the administration involved.” Libby’s pacing again.

“Stop,” I say. “Libby. I need you to sit down and listen to me. It’s important.”

She spins over and flops next to me on the bed. I try not to wince at the ache in my ribs. Honor hovers but keeps her mouth shut.

I take Libby’s hand in both of mine and squeeze. “I appreciate your anger. More than you know. But I need you to let this go. I don’t want to be the example. I don’t want this to be an albatross around my neck for the rest of college. I don’t want marches organized or activism groups started on my behalf. I want this to go away. It needs to go away. Do you understand that, Libby?”

My eyes plead with her
, and even though I can see she’s exasperated, she nods. “It won’t be that simple, Toby.”

The room is silent as her truth hovers around us. She’s right, of course. But it doesn’t matter. Whether or not it’s simple, I won’t
be a leader in her revolution.

“I’m tired,” I say.

Honor nods and moves to the door, but Libby jumps up with a huge grin.

“Of course, you are. We knew you would be. But I thought you might not want to stay alone. So I’ve created something for you.”

I glance at Honor who just shakes her head. Libby grabs my hand, and I pull back quickly before she yanks me out the door and re-aggravates my cracked ribs.

“Easy, Tiger,” I say. Libby skips to her room and points.

“Look. We’ve created a convalescence bed for you.”

I peek inside. They’ve placed the mattresses on the floor and pushed them together to form a giant bed. It’s covered in pillows. The bed frames are bunk-stacked in the corner and are now being used as a makeshift closet with clothes hanging all over them. Really fancy clothes.

“I don’t know what to say.” I grin at Honor.

Libby claps her hand. “You can be in the middle of a girl sandwich.
It’s like guaranteed recovery. And I even bungeed the beds together so you won’t be in the crack. What do you think?”

I eye Honor. “You okay with this?”

She smiles. “You recovering in here? Of course. Whatever you need. But don’t feel like you
have
to.”

I gingerly sit down on the bed before lying completely back. “How come your beds are so much more comfortable than mine?”

“I got a king-sized down-filled mattress pad. I convinced the manager at the bedding store that my friend wouldn’t be able to recover without it,” Libby says. “He even gave it to me for half off.”

“Of course
he did. Did he have any tatts for you to lick?”

“Very funny.”

Libby drops down next to me and leans against my shoulder. Like a little kid might. She plucks my glasses off and folds them on the floor next to her. Her fingers trace my face and I close my eyes for a second. Part of me wonders if she even remembers the stoplight.

“You scared us, Toby,” she says softly
, and I feel Honor drop down on the other side of me.

“Didn’t mean to,” I mumble, enjoying the warmth and safety of the two of them. Pretending that my heart doesn’t hammer inside my chest every time I even think about what happened.

“We stay together,” she whispers. I nod.

“Toby,” Honor says
, as she scooches in closer to me.

“Hmm.”

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Me too, Honor. Me too.”

Honor

My phone alarm buzzes, and I sit up breathing hard over another nightmare involving my dad. It always happens when he’s been out to sea for a long time, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to cave and drive home this weekend, even though Toby’s barely recovered. I fumble for my phone and turn it off before it wakes Toby. He’s putting on a brave face, but I know he hurts more than he lets on. He should probably wince more when he moves, so Libby will start to slow down and be gentler around him.

Libby’s lightly snoring, and Toby’s carefully positioned on his back, an arm propped on the pillow that normally rests between us. P
robably a good move on his part; I sometimes flop when I sleep.

I slide on my sports bra and shorts to hit the gym. As much as I hate working out, I need to tone up a little because the more I think about it, the more I
feel like this Victoria’s Secret thing is a big deal, and something I might actually want. It’s a dangerous thing to want, because I don’t know how to be okay standing in front of people in my underwear and my chances still suck, but I do have a chance. Part of me doesn’t want that bit of hope to scrape in. It’s been so much easier for me to go along with what I’ve felt like my
mom
wants for me. But maybe after seeing Sawyer’s art, and seeing it from a different angle—I might actually want it for myself, and that’s stripping me of my safety after letting the hope rest on Mom’s shoulders. But I’ve done that for too long, and like Libby said—this is when I’m supposed to try out different things, figure out what I want.

What’s
funny is that I’m figuring out that I might actually want what I’ve already been doing. I’m pretty sure Libby would not approve of this as a “college” experience, but I’m okay with that.

Libby rolls over and rests a hand across Toby’s stomach. He laces his fingers through hers without opening his eyes and I stare at them for a moment, a pan
g of jealousy racing through me, which doesn’t make any sense.

What has Libby created between the three of us? I can’t tell her
no. I know I want to be with Sawyer, but sometimes I stare at Toby and think he’d be better for me in so many ways. I wouldn’t wonder if I was keeping up, or if I was good enough. Maybe I’m snobby and think I’m better than him, or… Maybe he’s more like a brother, only I’ve never had one so I don’t know what it’s like. I hate not knowing how I feel about a person. I’d do almost anything for Toby or Libby—even though she makes me crazy. But what does that make the three of us? Odd parts of a circle?

Toby blinks a few times and squints at me.

“What are you doing?” he mouths.

I flex my arm
s as a show that I’m working out.

“Is it still dark outside?” His brow furrows.

I shrug. “It is most mornings.”

“Run. Don’t walk. Keep your eyes open.” His face pales a little, and I wonder
if either Libby or I will ever understand what that night was to him. How he’ll probably never be the same. How I don’t want to think about him being attacked when I’m outside or I’ll turn into him and never want to leave.

How do you recover from being nearly beat
en to death for no real reason?

“Be safe, Honor,” he whispers.

In the six nights he’s spent in our room, he’s only left once. It hits me hard enough that my stomach flips over. He’s afraid.

I give him a slight wave before jogging out the door
, because standing in the room with his fear is too much for me—and makes my small fears feel pathetic.

My sweatshirt isn’t thick enough to keep out the cold, and my bare legs burn
in the frosty temps by the time I make it to the PE Building and the student workout room. Only the real athletes come at this time of day, which makes me feel completely inadequate, but I’m determined.

“Honor?”
Sawyer steps into the workout room behind me, a bit out of breath.

“Hey.” I spin around.
We haven’t seen each other since I spent the night. I’ve been watching Toby and terrified that my night with Sawyer wasn’t real—that I’m seeing the memories through rose-colored glasses, which are sure to shatter.

“
I saw you jogging across campus. I’ve barely seen you for a week.” His eyes are wide, and there are paint splatters on his fingers and face.

I bite my lip. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“
I’m going home this weekend and there’s no workout equipment, and I’m getting ready for an audition.” And part of me realizes in this moment that Toby’s a huge reason I’m going home, because as much as I want to make him  better, I don’t want to think about him being attacked every time I see his face. It makes me horrible and selfish maybe, but I need out.

Sawyer’s
head tilts to the side. “You okay?”

“Yeah.
Just nervous. It’s a big deal. What are you doing up?”

“I’m
still
up. Got into a project, and time slipped away. Figured it was better to caffeinate than nap at this point.” He smirks but is looking at me in that intimate way of his that curls my insides in something half-delicious and half-fear-inducing.

“
Sawyer?” A short girl with clipped black hair pushes into the room, breathing hard. “I almost lost you. You coming?”

My chest goes suddenly
hollow and then fills with weight.

Sawyer
must read my expression. “It’s just Lane. I painted her,” he whispers. “It’s not… We’re not… Me and her are not…”

Right. She’s not afraid to pose for him, and I’m so terrified that the thought of it freezes me up. I don’t want Sawyer to be the one that makes me feel like a nothing.
Like a doll to be painted instead of a person.

“I need to workout.” I turn and walk toward the treadmills, which are filling up.

“Honor, dammit.” Sawyer grabs my arm from behind, and I spin to face him.

“What?” I blink a few times as humiliation washes over me in thinking that our night was
as incredible as I thought it was. He apparently just did the same thing with someone else, only she let him paint her. Of course I was thinking it was something it wasn’t. I already suspected it, but being faced with that reality is worse than I expected. And to think I
kissed him.

He rests a hand on my sho
ulder, and then slides his fingers down my arm before taking my hand. “You’re special. To me. Or different. Look, I promised Lane coffee, but can I drop by your room later? I’ve missed seeing you.”

“Me
too,” I mumble, afraid to trust anything right now, but wanting so hard to. “But I’m driving home.”

“Where home?”

“Annapolis. My dad’s stationed there.” Though he’s not
there
, there.

“Long drive.”

“Yes.”

“Hey…” A smile plays on the corners of his mouth. “Would you drive me home?
Pennsylvania? I’m right on your way. And pick me up on your way back through? It’s been too long since I saw my little sister, and I’ll pay you for gas. My car is perpetually in the shop.”

He wants me to drive him. We’re special. Maybe.
I don’t know. It’s too early.

“Sure,” I say before I
let myself think at what all this might entail.

“Great.” His smile is wide. “Perfect. I’m ecstatic you’ll get to meet my family.”

I’m pretty sure I choke on my smile because everything goes numb when I think about meeting his family.

He pauses for a few more moment
s, still smiling, before taking a step backward, turning around, and walking out the door behind the short, dark-haired girl to
go have coffee.

I’m
filled with too many emotions about meeting his family and him out with a girl to nail anything down, and so I turn to jump onto the last treadmill and run until I feel like passing out.

“Wait.” Libby shakes her head as Toby shifts, trying to get comfortable. I hurt just watching him.

“Wait,
what
?” I ask. “I haven’t been home since I got here.”

“And Thanksgiving weekend is almost here. It doesn’t make sense.”
Her eyes narrow and I can tell she isn’t happy.