Page 24 of Bombshell

“I said hush. You have nothing to be sorry for. But you should do what you had me do earlier. The first thought that jumps to mind when I ask ‘does Sterling love you?’ is…”

“He loves me.” In the end, it’s simple. I know Sterling loves me.

But he’s like the ocean. Powerful and brooding and mysterious. What difference does it make if I know the tide will come in again—if that same tide washes me away? And that’s what it’s like with Sterling. Whatever I grasp is just a small part of a whole I can’t see—and it’s dangerous to make assumptions with a force as powerful and uncontrollable as that.

“Then you should at least talk to him,” Poppy says. “If it helps, we can do it at our place with Ava and me there.”

“Maybe.” It’s not the worst idea. I’ll need closure, one way or the other, right? “But I don’t know what I would say. Not yet.”

“Then take your time. He’s not going anywhere. And if he does, well, at least you’ll have your answer.”

I take a deep breath, and enjoy feeling like there is something fixed in my future. It already feels like a tether to reality. “Okay. That’s the plan, then. But there is something I’d like you to do for me.” I open the drawer of the nightstand next to my bed. “I wrote him a letter. Well, more of a note, really. Whenever we do end up talking, I think it will help if he reads it.”

“I’ll get it to him,” Poppy says, giving me a kiss on my temple, which makes me fall to pieces. Dry sobs rack my whole body, and my friend keeps her arm around me. “We’ll get through this. You don’t have to do it alone.”

I do, though.

8

Sterling

“Is something wrong?” Francie unspools the words without bothering to pause between them. I can’t tell if she’s worried or teasing. We haven’t talked much on the phone since the holidays.

“What? Why would you think something’s wrong?”

“Because you’re calling me!” The edge to her voice is replaced with exasperation.

“Give me a break. I just wanted to talk,” I say.

“Jesus, Sterling. Now I’m really worried. What happened?”

This was supposed to be the call. But it’s already off the rails.

Over the last couple of days, I thought a lot about how to tell her. How to talk her down from wanting to fight the administration. How to tell her things are going to be alright. I never did figure that one out, actually. Not that it matters. Apparently, my carefully selected explanations flew out the window before I said a single word.

You’re getting better at fucking up. You’ll have a degree in it soon. Then you won’t need this place.

I take a steadying breath, wondering if Francie can sense that, too. “It’s just...trouble with Adair.” It’s not a lie, anyway.

“Ah, that explains it.”

I can feel the outrush of Francie’s tension through the cell phone’s speaker. I could probably guess where she is in the house, what expression she’s wearing.

“Well, is it advice you’re calling for?” Francie continues when I don’t.

“I’m not sure there’s anything left to advise about.”

“Oh, Sterling…” She fills the two little words with so much love and sympathy.

I feel better. And worse.

I really didn’t think this through. What was I going to tell her, anyway? That I was losing my place at Valmont, at least in part because I lost my temper—again. Because it’s definitely not the first time Francie watched me make that mistake. And somehow, every time I disappoint her, it gets harder to do it again. Maybe that would be a good thing if I were ten and she were my mother, helping me figure out how to grow up. But I’m nineteen now, and still making the same mistakes. What’s left to say?

Isn’t that the problem with letting other people get close to begin with? You give them power over you. Then, they mostly just use it to make themselves happier. That’s how it’s been for me with nearly everyone. And if by some miracle they keep loving you despite your repeatedly fucking up? You have to watch their heart break for you. You have to know you caused it. You can’t escape.

I know I’ve already stuck the dagger in Francie. I just can’t bear the thought of watching her turn around to see me standing there holding the handle.

“Sterling, this is an uncomfortable pause, even for you.” Francie’s voice floats over me.