He Spoke French to Her So I Couldn’t Understand Chapter 02

He Spoke French to Her So I Couldn’t Understand Chapter 02

On the bus back to the hotel, the only open seats were in the very last row. Owen was about to sit next to me when Luna pressed a hand to her stomach and doubled forward. “I think lunch messed me up.”

Owen stopped immediately. “Take the inside. You’ll feel better by the window.”

Once she was settled, there was only one spot left beside her. Owen glanced at me. “Sienna, squeeze in with Riley.”

Riley Quinn, my roommate, heard that and her face went hard. “There are already three of us back here. Squeeze in how?”

The bus went quiet. Owen’s voice sharpened with impatience. “It’s thirty minutes. Don’t be dramatic.”

Thirty minutes.

Junior year, Owen had gone nine stops out of his way just to get me home. It had rained that day, too, and he’d held his backpack over my head while his uniform soaked through. I asked if he was cold and he laughed. “Totally worth it. You’re my girlfriend, aren’t you?”

The headlights swept across his face now. Same face, older, and completely unrecognizable.

The tour guide ended up setting up a folding stool for me at the front. On the first turn, the whole thing tipped sideways and my knee slammed into the armrest. Riley grabbed my arm and swore under her breath. “Is he blind?”

I couldn’t even fake a smile.

Owen heard the commotion and glanced back. “Now what?”

I swallowed the ache in my knee. “Nothing.”

Luna sank into her seat, her voice light and soft. “Owen, don’t snap at her. She probably just wants you sitting next to her.”

Owen draped his jacket over Luna’s legs. “She’s always been like this. Give her five minutes of attention and she’s fine.”

Somebody in the bus laughed. “That’s childhood sweethearts for you. Owen’s got Sienna figured out.”

Luna ducked her head like the comment had stung. Owen was quiet for a beat. Then he said, “It’s not really a childhood-sweetheart thing. We only met in middle school.”

One sentence, and he erased me gently from his own past.

I’d transferred into his class the year my parents divorced. Everyone decided I was too quiet, but Owen shoved his math quiz at me. “Sit here. Don’t listen to them.”

Later, when someone scrawled nobody wants you on the board, Owen grabbed the eraser and hurled it across the room. First time he ever got sent to the principal’s office. He stood in the doorway with a split lip and grinned at me. “Stop crying. I won.”

Back then, he’d dragged me straight into his world. Now, in front of everyone, he made sure I knew I’d never really belonged there.

At the hotel, Owen helped Luna off the bus. Her foot barely touched the ground before she did a delicate little stumble.

Owen bent down to check her ankle. I stood by the door with a bruise spreading across my whole knee, my shoulder aching from the bag strap.

Riley snatched my bag. “Stop staring. Let’s go.”

I hadn’t even taken a step when Owen called after me. “Sienna, give me the room key.”

I froze. “Don’t you have your own?”

“Luna’s ankle hurts. Her room’s at the end of the hall. I’m walking her there, so give me my key.”

The keycard was in my pocket because he’d shoved it at me that morning, worried he’d lose it. Same way he handed me his hoodie, his charger, his ID, his mints. It never crossed his mind to explain.

I dug it out and passed it to him. His fingers brushed mine as he took it. Ice-cold.

Luna leaned on his arm and murmured, “Sorry for the trouble, Owen.”

He answered low, “No trouble at all.”

The hallway lights flicked on one after another. His back kept getting smaller. The click of her door unlocking echoed down the hall and I looked down at my phone and pulled up a photo.

Graduation day. Owen stood outside the school gates holding two iced coffees, grinning like he ran the world. He’d promised me, “Sienna, on the senior trip, I’m going to show you the time of your life.”

My thumb hovered over delete. The confirmation box popped up.

From outside the door, Owen’s voice came through. “Sienna, open up.”