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“Jace,” she cries.
“You were sad! That’s why I did it! You were sad, and I wanted to make you happy! That’s all! I didn’t know it was wrong!”
“Jace…”
I can’t breathe through this fucking heartache anymore. “Just leave me alone, okay?”
She’s sobbing now, big, fat tears I used to wipe away.
“You don’t get to cry, Harlow! You don’t get to move here and turn my world upside down, all so you can tear it to shreds. Just leave,please!”
She turns slowly, her gaze downcast, shoulders shaking with the force of her cries.
I watch her start to walk away and mumble under my breath. “I wish you’d never moved here.”
She spins to me, her eyes wide. “What did you say?”
I repeat my words, louder this time. “I said, I wish you’d never moved here.”
69
Harlow
It’s Tuesday by the time I see Jace again, or, more specifically, the back of his head.
He told meI don’t get to cry, but I heard it in my mother’s voice.
He told mehe wished I’d never moved here, but all I heard was:
I wish you were never born.
I wish it were you who had died.
Jace was right.
Painisthe price we pay for love.
And darkness is the consequence of it.
A knock on the classroom door has everyone’s heads whipping toward it. On the other side of the doorway stands the school principal and two uniformed police officers—one male, one female. “Sorry to interrupt,” the principal says, his tone quiet, somber. “Jace, can you come with us a moment?”
Jace stands immediately, and I swear, his eyes meet mine for a flicker of a second before they shift, moving to the back of the roomwhere Jonah is. I turn just as Jonah stands and walks toward the door, where Jace is already waiting for him.
The moment they leave the room, the whispers begin.Again. The gossip and rumors have been rampant since Saturday’s game—when Jace showed up the way he did. According to what’s been said, Jace told his coach that he took a basketball to the face and that created the black eye. Whatever’s behind the dressing on his neck is yet to be explained. If the gossip ended there, that would be fine. But it escalated, as gossip does, and now, according to people who have nothing better to do with their lives,I’mthe cause.I’mthe one who hurt Jace. The one who gave him the marks and bruises that are impossible to hide.
It hurts, obviously, because I would never hurt Jace. At least, not like that. And to put me into the same category as the evil who lives under the same roof as him is devastating, but… what can I do? I can’t feed into other people’s bullshit, and so I keep my head down, my mouth shut.
Sammy leans forward, about ready to speak. “I don’t know anything,” I tell her before she can even ask.
Most people get back to work. I stare at my computer screen—at the wordsMy Hero,followed by the cursor, flash, flash, flashing away, as if mocking me because the rest of the page is blank. Occasionally, I’ll look at the doorway, waiting for them to return.
It doesn’t take long—no more than ten minutes. Jace and Jonah re-enter the room, both their faces giving nothing away. Jace returns to his desk, but he doesn’t sit down. He simply packs his bags and leaves.
Not a single person asks why.
70
Jace