SEVERAL HOURS later I’m sitting at my easel, wearing an old tattered sweatshirt and drawing King’s hand holding my wrist, erasing that guy from my skin. Thoughts of his reaction to me for the rest of the night are intermingling with those moments, creating an ugly mixture of shades to be present.

Being ignored by King is nothing new, but it’s beginning to hurt more and more.

“I DON’T understand why you’re working so hard to change for some guy you don’t even like.”

My eyebrows crash down as I rear my head back from Kenzie’s verbal slap. It’s a weekend, and for the first time in many weeks, she’s here at the studio, filling the space with unease. I don’t know that many others would consider what I’m doing to be ‘cooking.’ I’m attempting to make a breakfast burrito and I’ve burnt the eggs, so they’re now a rubbery consistency and no longer smell recognizable. “I’m not trying to change anything.”

“You’ve never cooked, so why do you care now?”

I return her stare while considering her words. I care because of Mercedes. Because he posed a challenge and I loathe defeat. I’m learning because I can’t eat boxed dinners for the rest of my life. Do I care what King thinks? Maybe. Probably. More than I wish I did.

She raises her eyebrows, recognizing my awareness.

TODAY HAS been one of those days that I wish I could have a free pass to erase and do over again. Nothing has gone as planned. I missed the bus to school. I was sprayed by mostly dirt from a car. Mercedes was in a mood that rivaled my own, bringing out an uglier side of both of us. And Charleigh has stood me up for the second time now to go out with a guy.

I head to the bus stop, avoiding the puddles with my ballet flats that I am hoping will return to their shimmery golden tan color. The rain has been one of my favorite things about Oregon, but today it’s just annoying. The dark clouds in the sky are annoying. The puddles are annoying. The sound of tires splashing through said puddles is even more annoying because it forces me to move to the far side of the narrow road and brush up against the fir tree branches that I swear are reaching for me as they soak my leg from thigh to ankle.

The car stops beside me, and I look over my shoulder to see the tinted window of a silver SUV slide down, revealing King.

“What are you doing out here?”

I look ahead and then back to him as though the answer is obvious.

“Where’s your car?” he demands.

“I don’t have a car.”

“You walk here? Every day?”

“Until they can figure out that whole teleporting idea.”

“Get in.”

“That’s okay. I’m all wet and it’s not that much farther.” I turn to look down the road again and then back to the interior of the SUV, where King is looking at me with rounded eyes.

“Get in the car.” His tone is calm and relaxed like this is merely a friendly suggestion, but the intense look he’s giving me says he’s going to follow alongside me until I get in.

I sigh deeply and reach for the handle of the passenger door. The warmth inside the vehicle makes my damp skin prickle as I slide in, the leather squeaking protests against my wet jeans, bringing King’s attention to my lap.

“You’re soaked.”

“It adds to the conditioning. You know how swimmers go in with all of their clothes on to build resistance? I find this improves my calf workout.”

“Why don’t you ever ask for a ride?” he asks, dismissing my joke.

“Why would I?”

“Because it’s dark and pouring down rain.”

“It’s not that bad,” I lie. “I just have to get to the end of the road, and then the bus stop is a couple of blocks West.”

“How did we not know you don’t have a car?”

I look at King and raise my eyebrows. “Why would you?”

“Because you shouldn’t be walking this every night.”

“King, you’re my employer. I’m not going to ask you or Kash to drive me to the bus stop. That would be unprofessional.”

“No, what it would be is smart. And I’m not your employer.” My mouth opens to retort and then I pause, watching him shake his head. “I don’t understand why you’re trying to avoid me. I’m not going to tell anyone about what happened.”

I want to contest both of his points since he works just as valiantly to avoid me, but my mouth opens before my thoughts are done forming. “You already did.”

King’s gaze cuts to me so fast, it makes me nearly lose my focus. His eyes quickly move to each of mine, searching for what all I know. He drops his stare before looking out the windshield as though he’s embarrassed. “I told Summer I met someone, way back in September. I never told her you’re the same person.”

“I know. She figured it out a few weeks ago when we met to discuss the work for the shop.”

King closes his eyes and raises a hand to his face where he pinches the slight bridge in his nose. “Why didn’t one of you tell me?”

“What was I supposed to say? I’m so confused by everything that involves you. Most of the time you act like a dick and completely ignore me. Other times you act like a nice guy. I didn’t even know that night meant anything to you after I didn’t hear from you. Then I found out your name isn’t Bentley, and I was positive it meant nothing to you.”

King drops his hand and opens his eyes to stare at me for several long seconds as the windshield wipers echo in the silence. “Most people around here know who I am. I tell people my name is Bentley because sometimes it’s nice to just hang out and be me.” He squeezes his right fist with his left, creating a symphony of pops. “I lost my phone that night. I had no idea where it went and your name wasn’t in my backups.” He swallows, his hands stretching, reflecting there’s something more. “I asked everyone I knew at that party about you.”

“I only knew my roommate and her friend.”

We stare at one another for too long, each of us weighing thoughts and questions that feel louder than actual conversation. I break eye contact first, moving my gaze to the windshield to watch the rain in order to gain the strength I need to ask the question I’ve been agonizing over for months. I press my lips firmly together and turn back to him. King’s eyes are wide, his mouth set in a grim line like he knows what I’m about to ask. “Did you want to be found?”

His shoulders curl inward as though he’s relieved. “You have no idea how much I wanted you to find me.”

I want to ask why he acted so surprised and cold when we met again, but the fact that he did makes this questions seem more inappropriate than my last. “We have to go. My bus will be there in a few minutes.”

King’s chest rises with a deep breath and his shoulders square again. He doesn’t say anything more as we drive the distance to the bus stop. The rain is our music, loud and angry against the windshield and streets, amplified by the roof of the SUV. I hate that it reminds me of that night and lying beside King, getting lost in the rhythm of his heartbeat and the rain until I couldn’t decipher one from the other.

“I’d offer to come get you tomorrow, but I have a feeling you’d say no.”

“I would.” I unlatch my seatbelt and slide closer to the door, gripping my messenger bag and pulling it into my lap. “Thanks for the ride, King.”

“Lo.” King’s voice is loud and unsteady. “We don’t have to go back to that night. We can just be friends.”

I’m so relieved I didn’t turn around when he called my name, because I’m certain my face is contorted with confusion and anger. I slam the door shut and head the few paces to the undercover bench where a woman I see here nearly daily is waiting. We don’t make eye contact. We never do. I pull out my phone and sit beside her, ignoring King’s stare.