Page 75 of Shapes of Love
My fingers slacken, and my bag slips from my grasp, hitting the pavement with a muffled thud. My feet carry me toward him, and my arms wrap around his back.
“I’m sorry.” I’m not sure what I’m apologizing for, but I hold him against me like he’s about to evaporate into thin air.
“Are you okay?” He hugs me tight, the tension in his shoulders dissolving under my touch.
I’m scared of losing you again.
“I’m fine.” I pull back. “You can let go now.”
“I don’t want to,” Kai whispers. He squeezes me. “I talked to Mia. She says you fought?”
“Something like that.” I swallow hard. I don’t know how much Mia has told him, but I know he must have freaked out about the way I reacted last night.
Mr. Santos, my elderly neighbor who always gets into extremely loud arguments with his wife, walks past, throwing us a strange look. I move away from Kai, suddenly self-conscious, and pick my backpack up off the road.
“Want to come in?” I offer, and Kai nods.
My moms are at work, and Sonia is at school, so we go to my room and sit on my bed facing each other. It’s like déjà vu. I remember holding his hand the day we broke up. I remember the way he pulled away.
“We weren’t planning on keeping it from you.” His voice is a whisper. “It’s just been confusing. For both of us. We’re not dating. I’d never date anyone without asking you.”
Why would you need to ask me?I almost say.
“Do you love him?” I blurt out. It’s been a week, but I know Kai. He wouldn’t kiss anyone he doesn’t have feelings for.
Kai’s gaze drops to his lap. “I… might.”
He shrugs, a shy smile tugging at his lips. A rush of affection rushes through me. Shy Kai is like a rare Pokémon—hard to find, hard to keep. He traces the edge of my blanket with his thumb, as if seeking comfort in the familiar texture. A faint blush creeps up his cheeks—the way he tries to hide it behind his hair makes something inside me soften.
“I’m happy for you,” I say, and I mean it. “You make a good couple.”
“You don’t look happy.” Sadness flashes through his eyes. Or maybe it’s my own, reflected in his gaze.Because it feels nice not to be alone. It hurts to know things will change again. I wanted to move in with you.
The words linger, unspoken. Is it weird to want to spend your life with someone you haven’t fallen in love with? It’s not something I can ask him. He wouldn’t understand. Or worse, he would, and I would burden him with it. With me.
“Listen, the contract is up soon.” I clear my throat. I need to be cold about this. Mia is right. Everyone is just looking for their person. I can’t keep Kai from finding his. The longer we keep this up, the harder it’ll be for him. “Marissa wants us to talk about it.”
“Oh.” Kai blinks, as if this was the last thing he expected us to discuss. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind if we keep fake-dating. I actually wanted to ask you—”
“We should end the contract,” I say, pushing the words out before I can regret them. “I want to end the contract.”
Kai stiffens. “What does that mean for us?”
“We should probably spend some time apart.” I’m unable to meet his gaze this time. I scan my room, my eyes landing on a row of plushies on the shelf. Funny how they’ve seen us fall apart twice. “Since we’ll technically be broken up. You know, for optics.”
“Fuck optics. Are you serious?” His brow furrows as he searches my face for answers. “Sasha, what’s going on? Talk to me.” His voice hardens with frustration when I don’t respond. “I don’t read minds.”
My lips tighten. There’s a selfish part of me that wants to keep him around forever. Not in a friend way, or a boyfriend way, just in a partner kind of way.
Stop trying to fix everyone else. Maybe you’re the broken one.
“You’re not going to lose me,” he says, and it’s ironic—for someone who can’t read minds, he can surely read mine.
“I know,” I say. It comes out quiet. He won’t drop out of my life like the first time, but I’ll lose him regardless. I will lose him like I’ve lost Mia, one silence at a time, and somehow that makes it worse. He reaches for my hand, but I move back. “This is just what’s best for us.”
“Is that what you want?”
“I—”No, it’s not what I want.But I can’t say that. My phone rings, breaking the urgency of the moment. “It’s Marissa.” I move away from him. He searches my face, pleading, but I’ve said my piece. “You should go.”
