Read Online On an Edge of Glass by Autumn Doughton - Free Book Online Page A

re nothing significant to each other.
    Ben and Lily, however, have had years of kissing, laughing together, dancing.  Sex.   He obviously loved her if he was with her for two years. 
    Who am I kidding?  He probably still loves her.  What guy wouldn’t?  She’s beautiful and sexy and confident in all the ways that I’m not.
    Deep breath.  For Lily’s benefit, I use my sweetest smile, but I’m pretty sure that it doesn’t reach my eyes. 
    “We didn’t exactly meet, but I’m Ellie Glass.  I’m just one of Ben’s new roommates.  That’s all,” I say nimbly as I slip inside.  The door falls shut with a loud thump, leaving me in the darkness of the front hall. 
                  Ben and Lily are outside together for almost an hour. 
    I know this because I watch the clock on the small table by my bed like my life depends on it.  Clearly, falling asleep is out of the question. 
    I roll under my duvet and yank my pillow over my head hoping to block out the muffled sounds of Ben and Lily talking on the porch.  When that doesn’t work, I bring my laptop to life and open up my favorite playlist. 
    The clock nears midnight.  Finally, I hear the front door open and close as Ben comes inside.  My ears strain over the chords of soft music and I make out only one set of footsteps.  At least Lily hasn’t followed him inside.  At my bedroom door, the sound of his steps stops.  Sitting up, I see the shadow of his feet through the sliver under the door.  I wait, holding my breath and hoping that my insistently thudding heart won’t break any rib bones.
    The knock that I half-expect never comes.  Eventually, his feet move on and I hear a clunking sound and then the bathroom door closes.  The pipes whine in protest as the hot water for the shower is turned on.
    I let a held breath whoosh out of my lungs. 
    I don’t want to think about Ben anymore.  I don’t want to think about his ex-girlfriend holding his hand or kissing him.  I don’t want to think about dancing with him, or the gentle way that he touched my face in the car.  And I definitely don’t want to think about Ben Hamilton in the shower naked. 
    So I turn over and close my eyes, and this time I refuse to open them for anyone or anything. 
     
     
    A group of students walk past us, talking and laughing.  I sigh miserably. 
    Mark opens his mouth and then closes it.  He taps one finger against his outstretched leg.  His head is tilted to one side and he’s looking at me like he’s trying to solve a difficult problem.
    “Mark?”  I ’m beyond frustrated with his silence.
    “I’m thinking,” he says finally.  As if that’s enough of an answer. 
    Mark pushes his blond hair back and rolls his neck.  He pops a green gummy bear in his mouth.
    “Can you think faster?  I’m getting old over here.”
    We’re sitting on top of our favorite wooden picnic table in the Quad, which is an open space on campus nestled between a cluster of brick classroom buildings and the Student Union.  In the early fall and spring, it’s packed with picnickers and students playing Frisbee, or studying under the shade of one the trees that border the south side. 
    T oday it’s fairly quiet.  Only one other table is occupied.  The tree limbs are barren and the grass is on the brink of brown and crunchy.  I figure by Halloween next week I’ll be in a scarf and hat until March. 
    But right now , with the sun glowing in the sky like a sunny-side up egg, our faces still get warmed if we position ourselves just right.  That’s what Mark and I are doing after our last class of the day—sunning like a pair of seals on the beach and gossiping about boys.  Our feet dangle over the edge of the tabletop.  There’s a half-eaten box of gummy bears between us.  Our bags and laptops are parked below on the bench seat.   
    “It’s not like I’m surprised Ellie.  I could see this one coming from a mile away.  I did warn you if you