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“Yeah, Dad. We’re okay.” I race up to my room, lock the door behind me, and wallow in the realization that my mother and I—we’re more alike than I want to admit… because lying to the faces of the men I love was easy.
Almosttooeasy.
58
Harlow
“I wish it were you who had died.”
The nightmare keeps replaying in my mind, like a slow-motion movie on repeat, over and over, again and again.
“I wish you were never born.”
I’m pulled out of my daze when something wet lands on my wrist, and I try to see what it is, but my vision’s blurred, and I realize I’m crying. In the middle of class.Great.
I wipe at my eyes, clearing them just in time to see Sammy motioning toward me. A second later, Jace is beside me, one arm on the chair behind my back, the other resting on my thigh. His gaze searches mine, the sympathy in his stare only making things worse.
He doesn’t speak.
He rarely has the past twenty-four hours.
After he was done with classes yesterday, he came right over to my house. I could hear him talking to my dad downstairs, asking how I was and if he could do anything for us. I couldn’t make out Dad’s answer, but it didn’t really matter. There was nothing anyone could do. Moments later, Jace had joined me in my bed, silently holding me, andwe remained that way until we left for school this morning. The only time he left my side was to grab food and made sure I actually ate it.
“I think I need to go home,” I tell him now.
He’s already halfway out of his chair when he replies, “I’ll take you.”
“You have practice,” Sammy reminds him, and he responds with a shrug.
“Tell Jonah to let Coach know I had to go.”
There’s an emptiness in my chest I’ve never felt before. A heartache so strong it’s… isolating. The world passes me in awhooshas Jace drives me home, and I wish he’d say something. Anything to drown out the voices in my head.
“I wish it were you who had died.”
He veers off the main road sooner than necessary, but I don’t ask him where he’s taking me until we’re there. A hundred yards from where he parked the car is the natural spring they all took me to for my birthday.
I turn to Jace, my eyes alone speaking for me.
Jace shrugs. “It made you happy… last time we were here,” he says, but all I can hear is:
“I wish you were never born.”
“I just want to go home, Jace.”
Without a word, he puts the car in gear and takes off again. A half hour later, we’re back at my house.
“You want me to come in with you?” It’s the first time he’s ever asked.
And for the first time ever, I tell him, “No.”
59
Harlow
I woke up this morning with the type of headache that no amount of aspirin can cure. So, it’s safe to say that school dragged, and work is even worse. I speak at half volume, move at half speed, and my thoughts are nothing but an endless spin cycle—around and around and around.
By the time our shift is over, the only thing I want to do is crawl into bed and die. Not literally. But also: maybe.