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“Then why say it?”

“Because it’s true.”

I wipe under my eye with the side of my finger, and it comes away wet. I didn’t even feel it happen.

Something in his face gives. “Ky.”

“Don’t.”

I look past him at the windows of Corvin. Somebody on the second floor has a plant in theirs, too big for its pot, the leaves pressed flat against the glass like it’s trying to get out.

“I asked you,” I say. “Do you remember that? Last week. I asked you if something was wrong.”

“I remember.”

“You told me I was being weird.”

“I didn’t say it like that.”

“You laughed at me.”

“I was trying to—”

“You fucking laughed at me, Evan.”

He looks down at his shoes, and now that I know where it goes, the memory comes back sharp. His room, the navy comforter, his phone face down on his thigh. Me asking. Him smiling and bumping his shoulder into mine and telling me I was making something out of nothing, then kissing my temple and putting on a movie. My face got hot. I sat through the whole first half feeling like an idiot, like I’d made it weird, like I was that girl. I apologized. I actually apologized.

“You made me feel stupid.”

“I know.”

“No. You know now, because I’m telling you. You didn’t care then.”

“That’s not fair.”

I turn my head and look at him, and he flinches. Good. Maybe it isn’t fair. I don’t have room in me right now to care.

“I cared,” he says, quieter. “I just didn’t want to have the conversation.”

“Because then you’d have to tell me.”

“Yes.”

Finally, a clean answer. I wait for it to feel better, and it doesn’t.

Behind us, a door bangs open. Someone comes out of Corvin, keys jingling, and heads for the parking lot without looking our way.

Evan pushes his hands into his pockets. “I should’ve stopped talking to her. I should’ve told you. I shouldn’t have gone to the party.”

“What do you want?” I ask.

He doesn’t even take a breath first. “You.”

I look at the bikes again, and he breathes in slowly.

“I don’t expect you to be okay right now. I know you’re not. I just—Kylie. I don’t want this to be it.”

My throat closes. “What am I supposed to say to that?”