This is Not a Love Story Read Online Free Page A

at me like I’ve gone insane.
    The window , I sign again, slowly, as though he’s stupid.
    He’s anything but.
    I’m being fucking obnoxious, and I know it, but I can’t stop. I hate myself, and I hate I’m doing this under the guise of caring for Cassey, and I do care for Cassey, but I couldn’t give a fuck about her cafe window; she can claim it back on insurance.
    Again, Julian nods.
    Stop fucking agreeing with me, I want to scream. Tell me I’m being fucking horrible, tell me to stop!
    I stand up and throw my share of the tarpaulin at him in anguish.
    I walk away to lean against the thick wall that separates the embankment from the water. What the fuck am I doing? Whatever it is, it’s destroying me. I dig my nails into the palms of my hands until they bleed and stare out at the dirty gray river, rough and swelling in the rain.
    A few minutes later, I feel the tarpaulin being draped over my head, and Julian stands next to me. He doesn’t come close enough to touch me. I’m not surprised. I want desperately to close the distance and lean my head against his shoulder. But I don’t.
     
     
    I T ’ S LATE , and we’re wandering. Every so often Julian steals a glance at me, but I’m restless and tearful. I want to apologize, but I don’t know how.
    We walk past Cricket and Roxy, crouched under a dark concrete staircase leading up to one of the walkway bridges over the river.
    Scrap that. I walk past them. Julian, however, stops.
    Reluctantly, I follow him over to them.
    They’re drinking, which means Cricket must have found a buyer for whatever he was selling in Joe Brown’s. He’s so far gone he offers Julian a can for free, while Roxy lounges against him, half-asleep in his lap. I didn’t know they had a thing. Maybe they don’t. Sometimes a little easy affection is all we have, and while you can’t live on it for long, I guess it eases the loneliness.
    Roxy, used to be Robyn, who used to be my friend before I met Julian. He was sweet back then, full of anxiety and wonder, but his big round eyes and smooth caramel skin made him, I don’t know… desirable, I guess, and now he just seems so… lost.
    I sit on one of the weirdly shaped concrete slabs that tessellate the pavement, out in the rain, away from them. I’m being childish, I know, but sometimes you just can’t stop. Sometimes there is no backing down, at least to yourself.
    Julian holds out a can for me, but perversely I shake my head. I get soppy when I’m drunk, and it would do me good, shake this helpless black mood, allow me to apologize. Instead I bite the inside of my cheek as I watch them, while pretending to be staring at the ground.
    The three of them are sitting close for warmth, even though Cricket stinks and Roxy’s skin is covered in sores.
    I screw my eyes shut. A while later I feel the tarpaulin hit me. Without looking over I drag the plastic around myself and curl up on the ground.
    I’ve slept wet and shaking with cold many times before, but it’s been a long time since I’ve slept alone.

B OYS K ISSING
     
    S OMETIME DURING the night, I wake to find a warm body curled perfectly against mine. We fit together so well I can’t imagine we’re not somehow part of the same thing. The rain is pooling on the ground around us, and I can’t go back to sleep, even though my eyes are aching in their sockets.
    Every so often Julian squeezes his arms tighter around me, as though he’s checking I’m still there. That he does this while he’s sleeping somehow makes it sweeter, just a little nighttime wonder between me and his subconscious self.
    I can no longer remember what the past was like without him, what I was like when it was just me and Roxy—Robyn.
    I turn my head to look over at him and Cricket, similarly curled under two torn sleeping bags. Julian murmurs in his sleep, and I push myself back against him, closer than close, as close as it’s possible to get without admitting that this is more than