“Dude, anytime,” I say.
“Seriously, if you hadn’t taken a knife to the back to keep me from being overrun, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” he says.
“You know I’d die for you, Hunter,” I say. “And I’d follow you anywhere.”
“Cross gets that kind of loyalty. Because he earned it. I haven’t,” he says, reading what I didn’t say correctly.
“I’m just calling it how I see it,” I say and stand up. “Like always.”
He scoffs at that too, but he can’t exactly deny it’s true. He will one day lead us even if he wants to pretend it’s not already a given, and I do call things as I see them.
And as I leave his room, the dread and guilt I came in with are both gone. Replaced by only the sunshine that me and Veronica will soon be bathing in. On the beach. Watching the waves roll in. Watching the sun set into the horizon and stars light up in the sky.
If we have any time for watching, that is. We probably won’t.