He sighed and shook his head. “You’re so different since you woke up.”

Seriously? That was what he got out of this conversation? That I was different. Not a “Yeah, you’re right” or an “I didn’t think of that.”

“Did you not hear what I just said?” I asked him.

“Sure, but you aren’t even considering my feelings.”

Oh my God.

“You’re right. I am different since the coma. I woke up and I felt different. I saw things differently. Maybe it was from the near-death experience, or maybe … maybe I dreamed of a different life.” I stopped. Where had that last bit come from?

“A different life?” he asked, looking at me, confused.

I paused. I wasn’t sure why I’d said that. But somehow it felt right. Like I had been asleep until that coma, and while I was fading, I was imagining the life I actually wanted. Although I remember nothing of that time. My memories were the car accident and then opening my eyes in the room to see my mother.

“Crawford, I’m not sure I can be who I was before. I want an opinion. I want my needs to be as important as yours.”

Crawford didn’t say anything, but he looked out the window toward the dorm where he had parked.

“I don’t want to lose you … to lose us,” he finally said.

“Then don’t.”

He finally turned to me again. “You’re different. It makes us different.”

Again, here we were—back to how I was affecting his life. Our plans had been to go to dinner and then to a party at a frat house where he was pledging. But I just wanted to go back to my room and study.

“Maybe we need time.” I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but I nodded and reached for the door handle.

“Maybe we do. You think about what I said, and I’ll think about what you said. Let’s have some space and decide what it is we both want now and for our future.”

He watched my hand on the door as I pushed it open, then he nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

He didn’t stop me or argue, and I was glad. I wanted to be alone. This wasn’t an easy conversation, but it was one that needed to be had. I felt free. Instead of feeling weighed down with guilt, among other things, I was lighter.

Crawford had to accept the me I had become if we had a future.

* * *

I LEFT HIM alone. Let him decide. It took him two full days before he texted me. The text he finally sent was:

You’re right. I’m sorry.

That wasn’t what I had been expecting. Nor did it bring relief. Instead, there was still confusion. My feelings for Crawford had changed so much that I wasn’t sure there was a chance for us now. The little girl in me wanted there to be a chance, but the me I had become wasn’t sure comfortable was what I wanted in life.

There was excitement, and thrills, and not knowing the future. Even though I knew nothing about those things, I wanted them. Deep down inside I was craving them.

But he was sorry. And he wanted a chance. I owed him that. Maybe I owed it to me, too.

I replied.

Okay. What does that mean for us?

The photo I had placed by my bed of the two of us at homecoming last year stared back at me. We had been so sure then. No questions about what came next. I didn’t miss that girl. She was lost. She just hadn’t known it.

There’s a party at a friend’s apartment. It’s his birthday. Will you go with me tonight?

It was a Tuesday night. I needed to study. But this was Crawford trying, so I said yes.

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

VALE

THE ONLY WAY they could be getting away with this was that everyone in the apartment complex was in college. Blaring music and laughter could be heard from outside. We had barely made it out of Crawford’s car when people called out his name in greeting. This was the football crowd. I hadn’t met any of them yet and I realized that was odd.

It was also my fault. I had been keeping Crawford at a distance and it was time I admitted that. I hadn’t tried to get to know him or his life here.

“Hey, Crawford, you promised me a dance,” a tall, leggy blonde called out.

He tensed beside me and I almost told him it was okay. Because it was. I didn’t feel jealous. A bad sign.

“She’s a cheerleader. Just a friend,” he said, his attention turned to me.

I shrugged. “Okay.”

“Who’s the babe?” asked a guy with long hair pulled back in a ponytail and beer in his hand.

We had just made it to the entrance of the building.

“Garth, this is my girlfriend, Vale. Vale, this is Garth.”

Garth looked surprised by the word girlfriend. I began to wonder if this crowd even knew of my existence.

“You did good, man. And you work fast.”

Crawford was tensing again. “Vale and I have been together since we were kids.”

Garth’s eyebrows shot up. “Wow. Well, all righty then. Let’s introduce Vale to the group.”

* * *

THE INSIDE OF the building just got louder. I noticed most of the doors were open and people were pouring out. I was beginning to think I didn’t want to meet the group.

Crawford stopped and introduced me to people as we went. I was shocked when he was handed a beer and he took it. That wasn’t Crawford-like at all.

No one seemed to know he had a girlfriend. It was a surprise. Only two girls who had come up to paw at him seemed to know who I was. I wondered if it was because he’d had to tell them he was in a relationship at some point.

The blonde from the parking lot kept looking our way, and when she got a chance, shot me smug grins. I wasn’t sure what all that was about, but I had a few ideas. I wasn’t that naïve.

Crawford was a hit. Everyone wanted to be near him and they all wanted to talk about football. This was his element. I knew that, but I still felt like I didn’t fit.

Was this what growing apart felt like? Could that be all this was? We were going our separate ways and this was how it looked.

“What about that dance?” the blonde asked as she wrapped an arm around Crawford’s.

I watched him closely to see if she had a reason to feel so comfortable with him.

He chuckled, but it was forced. “Not happening, Cat, but have you met my girlfriend, Vale?”

That was subtle. I’d give it to him. He was trying to handle this without drama. I just wasn’t sure it was possible. Cat looked determined.

“No, just like I was unaware of her until last week,” Cat said, her eyes narrowing in my direction as if she wanted me to read between the lines. I was reading just fine.

“Excuse me while I take her off your hands,” said Dan, a redheaded guy with a buzz cut I had met earlier, as he scooped his arm around Cat and literally pulled her away with him.

“That wasn’t what it looked like,” Crawford said. He had never lied to me over the years. So now that he was, I saw it clearly.

“We should probably discuss that later,” I told him.

He started to say something else and stopped. I would give him a point for being smart and shutting up. He had lied already. No need to dig further.

As the evening wore on, there appeared to be more girls who seemed to feel close to Crawford. It was becoming more and more obvious how far apart our worlds had grown. There was a lot of talking about things they had all done that I wasn’t a part of this summer. They laughed together and the inside jokes didn’t seem to stop.

I stayed by his side like I always had until I needed some fresh air from the stench of beer and too many people. Excusing myself, I headed out while Crawford entertained several of his buddies with some story about another friend I didn’t know.