I nodded. I didn’t say anything else because something else had started to happen. I was beginning to fear that if I continued to speak, I might end up confessing my close relationship with broken glass, and I really, really didn’t want to do that. At the same time, I couldn’t stop talking now, could I? Not with him looking at me the way he was—as if how this moment turned out depended on me, and how I was possibly going to either make or break his heart, depending on what I said next. So, I decided to speak. I hoped I’d be able to refrain from saying too much.

“When Liam… After he died,” I said but really hated having to do it, “I kind of lost it.”

“That makes sense—”

“No, I mean…I lost it. I just—I was just gone.”

“O-kay,” he said slowly, frowning.

He looked so nervous, and so beautifully confused.

“I’m saying this because I need you to change your mind.”

“You do?” He tilted his head.

“Yes,” I said, with as much resolve as I could possibly muster.

“Thomas—”

“On the first day of school, someone texted me asking if I was the psycho kid.”

Ethan instantly widened his eyes. “Who did that?”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters—”

“No, see, they’re right. I am the psycho kid,” I said, managing a half-smile. “And if they knew enough to text it, that means it somehow followed me from Magnolia to Grant, which means it’ll catch up with me and implode, at some point.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. It’s the kind of thing that catches up, and it’s always messy.”

“But—”

“I’m not the guy you go after, Ethan.” It fucking hurt like hell to admit it. “I’m the one you run away from.”

He looked at me in a way that made me feel utterly exposed.

“I get what you’re saying, I do,” he eventually said. “You make sense.”

That was a first, right there.

“Except—” he continued.

“What?”

“I’ve medicated before,” he admitted. “I’ve been around this stuff my whole life, you know? None of it is taboo.”

“Yeah, but—”

“There’s something else too,” he said quietly.

“What?”

He took a step closer to me. “When you say my name?” He slowly shook his head and said softly, “It’s like all I want to hear is that. You, saying my name.”

“Ethan, I—”

I didn’t finish. He didn’t let me finish. As I spoke, Ethan took another step forward, put one hand on my waist, and kissed me in a way I was left utterly breathless.

It was a single kiss, one that felt as though it was my very first kiss, ever. He slowly pulled away and pressed his forehead against mine, keeping his eyes closed.

“I knew it,” he whispered.

“What?”