Jackisn’tBradley. I repeat it to myself over and over, trying to pull myself together.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m so sorry. Tell me what to do, please.”
Jack isn’t Bradley.
I count backward from ten again, feeling my heart rate slow down, and I shake my head. “It’s okay. I’m okay,” I force the words out, and Jack’s whole face is knit with concern.
I’m fine.I’m safe.It’s okay.
Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.
The repetition of counting down from ten always helps. It’s something my brain can make sense of when everything else is moving too fast.
“I didn’t—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have grabbed your wrist,” Jack says, apologizing again. His eyes roam over my face to see if I really am fine, but the truth is I’m not. If I were, I wouldn’t be losing my shit over Jack catching my arm.
“It’s not your fault,” I say, trying—and failing—to smile at him because it wasn’t. I have plenty of issues, and unfortunately,grabbing my arm triggered some of them. I don’t know how to explain this away, and based on his facial expression, I don’t think I can.
Jack drags a hand over his stubble, exhaling. “Was—did your dad . . .” Jack trails off, struggling to get the words out.
“Dad never touched me.” I clasp my hands in front of me, trying not to twist them as I kick to keep my head above water. “Sometimes that happens. Um, I count in my head to calm myself, but I have some shit I haven’t dealt with yet. It’s just . . . hard.”
“But Coach B . . .” Jack trails off, his jaw clenching as if the idea of my dad hurting me causes him to feel physical pain.
“Never, I promise,” I reassure him, and he nods, but I’m desperate to know what’s running through his head.
There’s an awkward silence between us, the sound of the music echoing to fill the gaps, and I wish I could rewind us back to fifteen minutes ago.
I move closer and lace my fingers through Jack’s. His eyes flicker to meet mine, and the apprehension lurking in the crystal coloring shakes me to my core. It feels like I’m staring into a looking glass, seeing everything I’ve tried so hard to hide reflected on Jack’s face.
“I’m okay. I trust you,” I whisper, trying not to let the words scare me into running as fast as I can in the other direction. “I wouldn’t be here with you if I didn’t.”
It’s terrible because it’s true.
I don’t trust easily, but somehow, like a parasite, Jack has infiltrated all of my defenses with his easy smile and the kindness he’s shown me. I know I haven’t known him long, but despite every verbal sparring match we’ve had, Jack’s taken everything I’ve thrown at him without so much as raising his voice. In fact, I yelled at him outside of Twin City, yet he still drove me home and took care of me to make sure I was okay.
I don’t like being someone who looks for the worst in people.
Maybe believing that if someone shows you who they are, you should believe them can also apply to recognizing when someone isn’t a shitty human.
I don’t think Jack is a shitty human.
Jack is sweet like honey, but I can only hope it’s not a trap designed to lure me in before going in for the kill.
“I’m sorry if I pushed too far to get you out here with me. I just wanted you to have fun . . . with me,” Jack says.
“You didn’t push me.” I squeeze his hand, trying to reassure him in the best way I know how. “Wanna race?”
“Even if I kick your ass?”
I laugh, shaking my head despite knowing he could probably beat me in his sleep. I haven’t spent enough time at the gym yet and am trying to rebuild my endurance. “I’d like to see you try.” Jack holds on to me, his grip unwavering.
It occurs to me that maybe I need Jack in my life, and the reason I fought against his friendship is that it’s terrifying to rely on other people. But maybe,just maybe, Jack might need me too.
CHAPTER 13
Alondra
“You signedme up for a dating app?” Jack asks from his end of the kitchen counter where we’re studying, while Coop makes dinner. Coop’s head turns in our direction, his eyes wide.
