The giggling and fussing became soft moaning, and I slid my gaze down from Adam’s face, seeing that his hand was moving between them under the quilt, the imprint of his corded, muscular arm between her legs.
He was fingering her. Jesus.
He stared at me the entire time he was doing it, and when our eyes met, a slow, taunting smirk marred his gorgeous face.
Maya threw her head back, scoring no points in keeping their hookup on the down low, her scarlet locks fanning across our yellow flowery couch, her mouth O-shaped. Something very dark and very violent unfurled inside my stomach, clawing up my chest. I felt like I’d been punched in the nose and couldn’t hold back the tears. He was fingering her, and she was enjoying it, and I was there with a front-row seat.
I felt love in its purest, most heightened form—heartbreak.
The worst part was that I genuinely believed Adam liked me. At least, I thought he did a few minutes ago. It was the small things that made me feel like he was seeing me as more than just his best friend’s baby sister.
The way his eyes held mine for a second too long across the dinner table when he stayed over for supper, and everything around us blurred at the edges, spinning out of focus.
The way he tuned out the rest of the room and listened to what I had to say, no matter the place, no matter what we were discussing, no matter the people we were with. He was attuned to me, endlessly fascinated with my words, my thoughts, my small, weird quirks.
The way he stopped by my room every time he was on his way to visit Val across the hall, stealing moments, minutes, small memories that were uniquely ours. He recommended new movies to me, and I shared cinema trivia with him. We were both movie buffs. We could talk for hours, until our mouths went dry.
But I knew Val would have a heart attack if Adam ever asked me out. Adam had a less than pristine reputation with the fairer sex, as exhibited right freaking now. And by that, he was known in our zip code as a total male slut. Anyway, that would be breaking every bro code in the history of friendships, and Adam seemed like the loyal type when it came to friends. Not to mention, there was also me. I loved Val to death and would never want him to feel some sort of way. He always had my back, and pursuing his best friend when he obviously felt weird about it seemed like a crappy sister move.
For the most part, I understood why Adam and I couldn’t be together. I truly did. I smiled through the pain at school, when Adam passed by me, jerking his chin in my direction in hello, a different girl under his arm every week.
I ignored the stabs of jealousy in my chest when he made out with other girls underneath the bleachers.
And scolded myself at my inability to be happy for him when he played Romeo in a school play and kissed every single Juliet who auditioned.
But that thing with Maya? It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. The very old, wary, thoroughly annoyed camel, who’d finally had enough.
“I think I’ll catch the rest of the movie in my room.”
“Nika, you okay?” Val cocked his head.
“Yeah. Totally. Just tired,” I mumbled, shooting up to my feet and darting up the stairs. It was too abrupt to look casual, but in that moment, I didn’t care. What was the point, anyway? Adam and Val had graduated weeks ago. Adam was going to Juilliard. I wasn’t going to see him very often for the next four years—if at all—and even if I did, it was time I Band-Aided whatever was going on between us. The wound underneath it had festered and become too raw and painful to ignore.
I realized Adam had had me without really having me for the past year, since our attraction had become too magnetic to ignore. He threw clandestine, half-moon smiles my way like breadcrumbs to a bird, keeping me securely under his spell. Telling me I deserved better than the guys who asked me out, but never asking me out himself.
And the worst part was that I’d listened.
I was the idiot who turned guys down because they didn’t meet the astronomical standards of Adam. I’d played right into his hands, while he toyed with my heart.
I raced up the stairs, stormed into my room, and slammed the door behind me. I collapsed on my bed, bashing my head against the pillow with a groan.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
A knock on the door startled me.
“Nik?” Adam was the only one who called me Nik. He had a great voice. Low, gravelly, confident. I remember joking with my friends that I wanted him to narrate my life. He was going to become an actor, and I was certain he would detonate La La Land with his charm and looks the minute he landed at LAX. It depressed me, because his brilliance should’ve been my own worst-kept secret. Something that is uniquely mine to bask in, I couldn’t even deal with the high school girls who swarmed around him. I wasn’t ready for the entire world to fall for him, too.
“Leave me alone.” My voice was muffled by the pillow.
“When have I ever done that?” He laughed from the other side of the door.
“Never.” And that was my whole problem.
He opened the door, clicking it shut behind him. I saw him in my periphery, hooking his thumbs to the loops of his jeans, cocking his head sideways. Everything about him reeked of nonchalance. If the world ended tomorrow, Adam’s heart wouldn’t miss one beat.
“If I didn’t
