“Bye, Marisa.”
I turned and shoved my hands into my pockets, walking outside into the still blisteringly cold early April afternoon. My legs felt waterlogged, like concrete should have been breaking under every step.
Numbness radiated through me, muffling and clouding everything.
Sitting inside my car, I stared out the windshield and gripped the steering wheel. My breaths were choppy and strained, and my blood screamed through my veins.
Unable to hold back, I released a scream and slammed my hands against the wheel, jerking it so hard I thought it might rip free from the column. Exhausted, I collapsed back into my seat and watched people walking by in their coats and hats, smiling, laughing, and holding hands. Kids ran to catch up with their parents.
This was a lot like the first time I’d left the hospital after visiting my dad. The rest of the world carried on as though mine hadn’t imploded, like it hadn’t been broken and shattered.
I’d been sliced to the bone, and the surgeon hadn’t even had the decency to pump me full of anesthesia first. Defeated and deflated, I fell over the steering wheel and looked up at the white stone building where Marisa was. I hadn’t thought there would ever be a day in my life when she wasn’t by my side, whether physically or not. But now, I was riding out into what came next all alone.
It was dark by the time I got back home. I don’t even remember where I went. Everything was a blur. The fog of my feelings was so thick, it was hard to breathe.
“LJ?” Keyton called out from his room.
I gripped the top of the railing. “Yeah, it’s me.”
“Is Marisa here too?”
Steadying myself, I closed my eyes. “No, she’s not here.” I walked to his doorway.
He sat on his bed with a sketch pad and pencil balanced on his lap. “Where is—” Following my gaze, he dropped the pencil and flipped over the pad, clearing his throat. “Where is she?”
Leaning out his door, I looked down the hallway.
“Berk’s not here. He’s at Jules’s place.”
“Right. Listen, what you saw before with me and Marisa…”
His gaze dropped to the floor between us, a tomato red creep crawling up his neck.
“Just forget about it, okay? There’s nothing to worry about anymore.” I slammed my eyes shut. My heart feeling like it was being torn apart muscle fiber by muscle fiber.
“Who was worried?” He jumped up from his bed. “She’s not staying with Liv, is she?”
“Honestly, I have no idea.”
“You two broke up?”
“Can you break up with someone you were never even really in a relationship with?”
He sat on the edge of his desk right beside his window. “Maybe, maybe not, but that doesn’t mean it won’t still hurt like a motherfucker.”
“Tell me about it.”
“What happened?” He stared back at me, not with suspicion or skepticism, but open like he really couldn’t figure out what would’ve gone wrong.
I slumped against his wall. “Honestly? I have no fucking clue. Things were great. At first, I wanted to keep things quiet because of her dad. And she went along with it, but later I didn’t want to sneak around with her.”
“She didn’t feel the same?”
“She flipped it around on me. Then, I was the one who wanted to be open about it, and she wanted to keep it quiet. Like she was hedging against us ending—planning for it.”
I slid down the wall and stared out the window beside Keyton.
“She wasn’t ready.” It wasn’t a question.
“When we were together it was better than I ever thought it could be. I love her.” I felt burned out, like the husk of who I’d been only a couple days ago.
“It’s scary shit, having someone love you that much. It’s scary feeling like you don’t deserve it, and if it goes away, then what does that mean about you?” He dropped down to the floor with his back against the desk. “And when you’re the one loving someone when they can’t see it for themselves, you’re bound to get burned. They almost can’t stop themselves from trying to prove to you that your love’s not real. They try to force your hand until they prove it to you.”
I lifted my chin in the direction of his bed. “Is that who she is to you? The one you loved who burned you?”
He leaned over and grabbed the notepad off the bed and stared at it for a long time. “No, I’m the one who did the burning. And she was right to run.” He slid the notepad across the floor.
Staring back up at me was a pretty girl, a little younger than us, with a hidden smile and clear eyes. “You drew this?” I handed it back to him.
“It’s all I can seem to draw.”
“When did you last see her?”
“Almost four years ago. At high school graduation.”
“You haven’t seen her since.”
“I don’t think she’d want to see me. We were…complicated. More complicated than we should’ve been, and we didn’t have the history you and Marisa have.”
“The history didn’t do much good.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“Do you think she’ll ever forgive you for whatever you did?”
A faraway look shadowed over his face. “Some things you can’t come back from. Some things haunt you even when you try to move on.” He stared down at the paper and ran his finger along the sheet.
“I hope you get to see her again. Maybe show her you’ve changed.” After knowing Keyton for three years, I couldn’t imagine him ever hurting anyone. Maybe that was how it happened. The ones you least suspected could reach right into your chest and pull out your heart. I pushed up off the wall and walked to the door.
“I hope you’re right. You—” He stood and set the notebook down on the desk. “You should at least hear her out when she comes back.”
“I don’t even know if she will.” I shook my head, still not believing she’d be leaving after telling me she wasn’t.
“She will. She loves you, and that’s some scary shit. Once you realize it, there’s no going back.”
“I don’t know. She hated how her dad ran out on her family, but he was trying to reconnect with her. Her mom isn’t the greatest, so having him there would’ve been great.”
Keyton tilted his head staring at me for a long time before letting out a breath. “I know it’s hard for you to understand.” He rocked back on his heels and glanced up at the ceiling like the words he was looking for were up there. “Sometimes parents fucking suck. I’m not talking about getting grounded for bad grades or having to take out the trash. They’re the people who’re supposed to love us most, but it gives them an in. They can also be the people with the first crack at hurting us most.”
Bile churned in my stomach. This didn’t sound like he was talking in abstracts.
“Your parents are great. They love you. They’re proud of you. They’ll be there for you. Some of us aren’t so lucky. We’ve never had any stability or feeling that if our life goes to shit there’s a safe harbor for us. Sometimes you’re on your own and sometimes it’s better that way. Just because two people made a kid doesn’t mean they’re true parents and it doesn’t mean they deserve all the chances in the world.”