I squeeze her back. “I’ll be here when you get back.”
She rounds the table to Sawyer. He hugs her warmly, lifting her off her feet.
“I’ll see you after break,” he murmurs. “Be safe.”
As we walk to the front door, I duck my head, trying to get Sawyer’s attention, to communicate with him that I want to talk, but he dutifully averts his gaze. That desperation from earlier winds its way through me. In a shameless effort to trap him here, I wedgemyself in front of him, opening the door for Nash and Tess and blocking his way out with my back squarely to him.
“Bye!” I say, a little too loudly.
“Brie.” His voice abrades the back of my neck.
My nose stings as I swing the door closed.
He catches it from behind me, keeping it ajar.
I push harder, trying to shut it.
“Brie.”
“No!”
Turning around, my face inches from his, I say it again. “No. Please, you got to say something to me. Please hear me, too.” I’m speaking too quickly, breathing too fast. I hold Squeakers up between us. “Please.”
CHAPTER 49
BRIE
My brain is chaos,a jumbled mess of words, as I lead a reluctant Sawyer up to my bedroom, hugging Squeakers to me. Now that I have his full attention, I want to tell himeverything. So that when I say those three words, he feels the weight of them. I need him to understand why I’ve been holding back.
I lead him to the bed, and it takes two tugs of his hand before he sighs and sits down next to me. His body is tight and I can tell, one wrong word and he’ll be gone.
My mind scrambles for how to start. How do I tell someone all my deepest secrets? All my fears?
Swallowing, I reach under my bed and pull out my old JanSport. I lay it between us.
He runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “Brie, if this is a walk down Memory Lane, I’m not interested.”
When he starts to stand, I reach for his hand. “Please!”
He sits, but he takes his hand back. My chest caves in at the pain of the rejection.
I look down at Squeakers, still in my tight grip. “My mom used to call me her Brie Cheese.”My chest fills with love and grief at the nickname. “Everything I had was second-hand from Gia.Everything. Except this mouse, and I had her for as long as I could remember.”
Sawyer is silent beside me, and I can’t look over at him. If I do, I might lose my nerve, and Ihaveto be brave. I need to get this out.
“Squeakers was the only thing I had from her when she died. One night, in a drunken rage, my dad threw outeverythingthat reminded him of Mom.” I still remember the way his eyes landed on Squeakers. The way he stomped toward me. “Gia stopped him before he could take her away from me, and I never let her out of my sight after that. She was always in my backpack, even at school.”
Sawyer’s indrawn breath is loud, but I keep my gaze firmly on the mouse in my lap.
“Dad wasn’t just a stain on the town.” I laugh humorlessly. “I mean, to even call him ‘Dad’ is more than he deserved. He spiraled worse and worse, especially after Gia left. I was trying to take care of everything, basically raising Mara on my own.”
Sawyer’s big body grows more tense. He shifts, and suddenly he’s closer, elbow brushing mine. I shiver at the contact.
“It was all on me. I had to keep everything together without drawing attention because if I didn’t, they’d take Mara away. Me too, probably. We’d both go into foster care, get split up.” My voice hardens. “There was no way I was going to let that happen. I worked every spare second. I tried to keep up with school. With what Gia sent home, we had just enough to pay the bills and for food.”
It’s not until Sawyer’s hand covers mine that I realize I’m shaking.
“Brie,” he chokes out, “I had no idea it was that bad.”
