Page 79 of Take Care, Taylor

“No—don’t do that.” I sat forward, palms flattening on my knees. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s not important.”

“It’s my mother, Taylor.” Heat crawled up my neck. “You think you can just drop something like that and change the subject?”

He exhaled hard, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m saying it’s complicated.”

“No,” I said, standing. “You’re saying you’ve been sitting on a bomb and finally decided to light it.”

He rose too fast, his chair scraping against the floor. “You act like you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t.” My voice cracked. “How could I have known?”

He laughed once—bitter, hollow. “Because everyone in that town knew except you.”

The sound of the rain filled the silence that followed. My pulse roared in my ears; I could taste copper from biting the inside of my cheek.

“So that’s why you hated me more?” I asked quietly. “Because of them?”

He dragged a hand through his hair. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to lose you,” he said. “You were the only friend I had.”

“No,” I whispered. “You just needed someone to hate.”

“Audrey—”

“Taylor—”

“I meant what I said about you being my only real friend,” he said, voice rough. “And I know I was yours. I didn’t want to throw that away.”

My throat burned. “We threw it away two years ago. We weren’t even on track to speak again before this program.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Yours.” I grabbed my jacket from the back of the couch, the fabric shaking in my hands. “I need to breathe. Don’t fucking follow me.”

The door slammed behind me, but his voice still echoed in my head long after I hit the stairwell—low, breaking, and full of every truth I hadn’t been ready to hear.

BULLY YEARS: SOPHOMORE YEAR

AUDREY

Welcome to your second year of college!

We’re excited to have you as a transfer student and we hope you’ll love your new home at our university!

Sincerely,

The Honors Dorm Leaders

Outside my window, laughter and loud music from a party drifted across the quad, daring me to look. I didn’t bother.

My sophomore year was off to a failed start, and it felt like a rerun of my worst days at my previous school—No, of high school.

Too restless to close my eyes, I picked up my phone and scrolled through social media. I lasted five minutes before tossing it aside and wandering the empty halls, the hum of fluorescent lights keeping me company.

Every corner of the campus reminded me of somewhere I’d already been—some version of myself I thought I’d outgrown but hadn’t. And every time my mind tried to fill the quiet, it reached for the same name.

Before I knew it, I was dialing Taylor’s number by heart.