Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 91560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“It doesn’t sound like you do. Why can’t you just be honest with me?”
Because you would never talk to me again, if I was honest with you. You would never want to see me or hear my name. You might even regret the time we spent together.
She still thinks I’m a good person. She only knows what I’ve let her know. That’s the only way I can survive, by keeping so much of myself to myself.
The thing is, I want to open up. The pressure in my chest might ease if I shared at least some of the truth. My loneliness, the emptiness I wrestle with every day. I might be able to step out of the darkness and into the light for the first time in much too long.
But that would sort of defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it? Because if I told her what I did, how Mom is dead because of me, she wouldn’t want to be my friend, anyway. I would end up just as alone as I am now, only I’d also have to struggle with knowing what I once had and how suddenly I lost it. It was easier to deal with before I had a good friend. Life is so damn cruel, but then I already knew that.
If there’s one thing I’ve practiced, it’s pretending everything’s fine when it definitely is not. “There’s nothing to be honest about. I already told you, I’m a little worried about you. And I’m sorry if I have a hard time accepting Briggs and you being together when you were so afraid, and he did those terrible things. You’re my friend, and I care about you, and I just have to wonder if you’re making a mistake.” Yes, because it’s easier to turn this around and pin it on her than it is to let her shine a light on me another minute longer. I can’t bear it.
What’s even worse is the way her chin quivers. The way she backs up against the shelves behind her, almost like she’s leaning against them for support. The way a person dies when they’ve been knocked weak by something they weren’t expecting. I’m sure she wasn’t expecting me to judge her. There I go, hurting somebody else. It’s all I’m good at.
“How can I make you understand?” she whispers.
“You can’t, so you shouldn’t bother trying.” It’s better this way. She won’t ask so many questions if she’s not around me all the time. I wish I could make her understand this is for her sake. “Maybe you should go have fun with your bully and his bully friends.”
That was the death blow, the one that makes her suck in a breath before she turns away from me, shaking a little. Is she crying? I hate to think she is, but again, it’s for the best. This is how it needs to be.
Maybe she’ll understand someday. That’s what I have to tell myself as I leave the stacks and almost rush to another, quieter part of the first floor. This time, she doesn’t follow, but it’s only when I’ve taken a seat in an unused study pod that I’m able to release a long, shaky breath. There are partial walls blocking out most of the floor, giving me a sense of privacy. Exhaustion leaves my body slumping in the chair, the effort of holding myself together having wiped me out. It’s getting harder and harder to keep the darkness at bay while I’m in public—and run-ins like the one I had with Tucker don’t help. What’s the alternative? Running away for good? Disappearing? If only it were that easy.
Maybe I should do what Mom did and fall down the stairs. Not the first time I’ve had that thought, but it is the first time that thought seems so seductive. All of this would be over. I would finally get a break, a little peace. If I get lucky, there won’t be anybody around who knows how to help me survive.
The way couldn’t help Mom.
7
TUCKER
“Where are you tonight?”
A jolt of surprise rushes through me at the touch of fingers to my hair. Somebody is running their nails through it, gently scratching my scalp. It’s not bad—I don’t hate it.
What I hate is knowing somebody thinks they have any right to touch me without asking permission first. No big surprise, twisting around in my chair and looking up to find Tiana standing behind me. The living room is dark except for a small handful of lights, just enough for people to be able to see by so they don’t trip and break their necks. Otherwise, the point of a party like this is to keep things dim. It’s easier to screw around in the dark. You can hook up with somebody, then walk away without thinking about the consequences.