3 Sides to a Circle (20 page)

“Honor. I just
wanna ask you something.”
I need to know how hard I should be fighting to get you back.

The lock scrapes and
Sawyer holds the door open but is very carefully not looking at me.

I step inside
and begin to stutter, but no words come.

A smile tugs at a corner of his mouth before his face becomes a mask of calm again.

“I know you need space.”

“I do.” His voice almost breaks in those two words, and I feel like shit all over again.

“I need to ask you if you like me because of this.” I paint an invisible circle around my face. “Or something else.”

“Do you know why I asked for space? Why I needed it?” he asks.

“Because I left you alone and then did something stupid, and you didn’t want to worry about me.” At least that’s how I remember him explaining it to me at the police station.

“
Maybe that’s part of it. But it’s that I don’t like who I am with you. I like who I am when we’re in the same room, but not when we’re apart. I’m not the panic guy, the jealous guy, and you make me that way. No, I don’t get your relationship with Libby and with Toby, but I do know where I fall on your scale of important people, and it’s definitely below them. I like you too much to be in that spot. Even when we’re
apart
I’m falling for you, and I shouldn’t be.” He shakes his head. “That’s why I need space. I can’t be falling for someone who clearly doesn’t feel the same.”

“You’re only falling for me because you want to paint me.” My chest feels heavy, and now that
Sawyer and I are alone, and he’s telling me all the things I sort of already know but really don’t want to hear again, I’m wondering why I came.

“No.” He
steps closer and holds my chin softly, his bright blue eyes unwavering. “It’s how you fidget, and how sometimes it takes you five minutes to tell me what you actually want to talk about, and how you get this panic look on your face when our conversation gets too deep, and how sometimes you let me in and I feel it in a million places and in a million ways. And when you came to my apartment and made me feel more naked than I ever have when someone looked at my paintings because I felt like you got it. Me. And not just a little, but a lot. Deeper than anyone. And because of how you talk about your parents, and how you care about the people around you, even when it gets you arrested.”

His hand drops and my heart melts.

“And that’s just the beginning. But I know you’re not there yet, in the same place I am with you, and I have a feeling you won’t be. Not until you grow past needing Libby, or whatever Toby is to you.” He backs up again, and leans against the wall, crossing his arms and putting boundaries between us. The urgent desperation I feel in wanting to touch him intensifies, making it hard to breathe.

The lump in my throat is too big to speak so I stand silent.

“I’ve always been the nice guy, Honor. I’m the relaxed guy who gets a little obsessive about painting, but around you… I don’t know how to feel less when I’m around you, and I can’t invest this much of myself in someone who doesn’t want to be in that place with me.”

It’s not that I don’t want to be in that place
, it’s that I’m terrified of it and don’t know how. Just like I always do, I sort of freeze up when I think about how to tell him that simple truth. “I miss you,” I whisper.

Sawyer
stares at the ceiling for a moment, blinking. “Just more time, okay. If this is what you want later, and we’re not…with other people, maybe we could try again. But I hurt too much to do it right now. I want more than you’re ready to give, and that’s okay for you, but it’s not somewhere I can be and stay sane.”

It’s like someone’s cut open my chest, because thinking about other people and
Sawyer and me and space is too much. I do like him that much, I’m just not sure how to do it. I pull open the back door and take off running for my dorm.

Libby wraps me up in a hug with no question, or chastisement, or I told you
so’s. Pulls me in and holds me like a sister. We stand locked together long enough for it to get uncomfortable and then comfortable again. Like I need her to stand, and in this moment, every crazy, bitchy thing she’s ever done disappears, because when I really need her to be here for me, she is here in a way no one else has ever been—she’s here with everything she has to give.

“You okay?” she whispers and hugs me tighter. I nod and squeeze my
eyes shut so tears don’t fall.

Toby taps on the door and the look he gives the two of us nearly fractures me. “I…I ju
st wanted to see if everything’s okay?”

Libby grabs his hand and drags both of us onto the massive floor bed.

“People don’t understand us,” she says. “They don’t get this. They don’t get our connection. I don’t know what to say. If you want, I can try to be less me.”

Toby chokes on a laugh. “What’s the likelihood of that, Libby?”

I expect her to snort or do something else, but instead, she’s quiet. Too quiet. Finally, she says, “I know I’m not for everyone. I’m too much after awhile. People always leave me eventually. You two will one day. I’ve steeled myself for it. But for now, I want to hang on to you.”

“We’re not going to leave you,
Libs.” But even as I say it, I recognize the truth of what she’s said. And I
have
considered leaving her. She is equally amazing and exhausting and honestly, it is nearly impossible to keep up with her. And if I left her, Sawyer would be easy. The problem is that there are parts of Libby I love too much to walk away from, and if Sawyer wants me to walk away, that isn’t fair either.

“Of course you are,” she says and smiles in this sad way. “People leave.
I’ve told Toby this. I don’t blame them. I could try harder, I think. Try to be less like myself. But when I’ve done that in the past, it’s nearly killed me. It felt like every day I pretended to be normal, I died a little more. So now, people either take me or leave me. But when they take me, I know it’s just a matter of time.”

“What did
you do for break?” This from Toby whose eyes are darting between the two of us.

Libby’s face breaks into a huge grin. “I hitchhiked to Boulder to see my friend Dave.”

I sit up. “What? Boulder? That’s like fifteen hundred miles from here. Did you go by yourself?”

“Of course. You all didn’t go with me, obviously.”

Toby’s mouth opens and closes. “Libby. That’s so dangerous. You
have
to know how dangerous that is. Anything could have happened.”

Libby drops her hand to his cheek. “I knew you’d be worried. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

I’m reeling from this. Completely. What nineteen-year-old girl would hitchhike half way across the country? Seriously. I don’t even know what to say.

“Didn’t your parents want to see you?” Toby asks.

“Mom went to see my sister. She’s preggo, remember? Mom wanted belly-rubbing time. Exciting. I wasn’t up for it, though. My sister and I are pretty different and her house is like a museum. It’ll be hilarious when she actually has a kid. Poor little dude. He’ll have OCD by the time he’s three.”

“Are your parents split?” I don’t know anything about Libby’s family. I
suddenly feel so selfish. Like I should know about all of this, but she’s always so forthright and I didn’t realize in all her honesty, she’s actually said nothing about her own life.

“My dad died.” She gets up and crosses the room. Her face looks strange and slightly pale. “Killed himself when I was a kid. Do you know, I think I’m going to go to the
library. Do you guys wanna come?”

“What?”

Her dad killed himself and now we’re on the library. I can’t keep up with her.

“To the library? I’m going up to the fourth floor
, and I’m going to eat a bag of chips and maybe even talk on the phone.”

“Libby…” Toby says.

She plants her hands on her hips and stares at us. “In or out?”

Toby and I sigh at the same time. He looks at me and I know he has as many questions as I do. Maybe even more. I pull myself up off the bed and hold out my hand to him. He takes it and the two of us follow a babbling Libby out the door.

Toby

Libby’s dad killed himself. I don’t even know what to say. Except it’s obvious from the non-stop yammering coming from Libby that she wants me to say nothing.

“You guys should have been on the road with me. It was amazing. I thought I’d never get a decent ride at first, but then this trucker named Rodger picked me up and he drove me all the way from DesMoines to Cheyenne, Wyoming. He even had this cozy little bed in the back of his truck. He said he normally brings his dogs with him on his trips, but this time he left them at home and wasn’t that lucky for me.”

My head wants to explode.
Libby’s dad and her hitchhiking and now on to this next stunt at the library.

“Did you know there are actually prostitutes who service truckers at truck stops? It’s crazy. They’re called Lot Lizards and Rodger had this bumper sticker on his truck that had a lizard dressed in stilettos crossed out
, and he said it was a signal for Lot Lizards not to come knocking on his door when he was trying to sleep at the truck stop.”

“Did you actually sleep with this guy?” I stammer.

“Of course not. I mean we slept together, but we didn’t
sleep
together. He has a fiancé. And that bed in the back of his truck cab was a double.”

“Jesus Christ, Libby. I don’t think you should tell me anymore.”

“I was fine. I’m here. No worse for wear, obviously. And it was this amazing adventure so now I can cross that one off the bucket list.”

Honor is scary quiet. Too much has happened to her tonight. I can see it on her face
, and I want to tell her to just go home. But that’ll leave Libby on her own and I can’t have that. Not with what she just dumped on us.

We’re almost to the library when Honor stops. Completely frozen. Won’t even budge when Libby tugs on her.

“I can’t,” she whispers. “Libby. Please. Not tonight. It’s too much. I can’t.”

Libby’s eyes glow. She’s not clear-headed. I can see it. This is the Libby of the golf carts and the icy pond. “No one said you had to come.”

Honor bites her lip. “Please. Can we go home?”

Libby shakes her head. “Are you going to leave me?”

There is so much more in this question than whether we open chips on the fourth floor of the library. We all know it. I hold my breath.

“No,” Honor finally says. “But I need you to do this for me now. I need you to come home with me. I can’t be here. I can’t pull this off right now. Please.
For Toby. Because this is his place and I don’t want him not to have a place anymore. And for me. Because you love me, please, come back home.”

Libby blinks too many times
but finally nods her head. It’s like her whole body crumples and I’m standing here like an asshole, not knowing how to help her. And the other part of me just wants us to move somewhere because it’s dark and panic is starting to creep over me. So I turn around and lean over.

“Hop up,
Libs.”

“It’s okay,” she says.

“Come on. You know you want to.” I squat down farther.

“I’ll take a picture,” Honor squeaks. She’s trying to thank Libby in her own way without ruining the mood by actually saying thank you.

And suddenly Libby tosses her small camera to Honor and lunges on me and laughs her loud, crazy laugh. Honor smiles at us and I feel like in one offered piggyback ride, we’ve dodged another bullet.

But part of me wonders for how long.

Honor

Honor Priest –

I’ve skipped over your agency to talk with you for now because I have to be a little on the down-low for this. I’m not positive, but you’re one of the top five choices for VS. If that’s the direction you want your career to go, that’s great, and if they don’t pick you up this time, chances are you’ll hear from them soon.

I’m the guy with the glasses
, who was clutching the iPad. You might remember me. You might not. I switched jobs and now help with model casting for Ralph Lauren. I think you would be perfect. If you give the okay, I’m going to send your agent a slightly different version of this same letter, but no matter what, if you’re not living in New York now, and want a career, (because I’m certain you could have one) you need to move.

Cordially (or however someone ends letters when they’re trying to poach you from their
previous employers),

Chance

Chanc
e? I sort of remember him—the guy who led me from the dressing room to the shoot. My heart pounds, and I fist and un-fist my hands over and over again. Leave here? Leave Libby? Toby?
Sawyer
?

Before I take too much
time to think about it, I call Mom, already knowing that she’ll tell me to go for it, and the fact that I definitely want to hear her opinion means that I might have made up my mind.