CHAPTER 9
DARE
The cruelest lies are the ones we tell ourselves, because once you believe them, you’ll bleed just to make them true.
I watchedthe tray hit the floor.
Watched his eyes go wide and his hands go still.
Watched the cafeteria go quiet, as if the world itself paused to watch him fall apart.
I moved to stand, but I don’t even remember deciding to. My body justacted, like some part of me still remembered how to be his friend. Muscle Memory. Then Caleb’s hand hit my shoulder.
“Yo,” he laughed, loud and cruel, pointing. “Your boyfriend’s a goddamn disaster.”
Everyone laughed with him. So I sat back down. Pretended I hadn’t moved. Pretended I hadn’t felt something splinter apartin my chest.
I laughed, too. Not because it was funny. Because it was easier. Because one wrong move and they’d turn on me. One wrong look and they’d know. Know something Idon’t even know myself, not really. Not in any way that makes sense.
I didn’t like boys.I didn’t.I wasn’t him. I wasn’tallowedto be.
What happened in that closet wasnothing. Just a stupid dare. Just a kiss that meant shit. I didn’twantit. I didn’t mean for my body to react like that. I didn’t ask for the thoughts that came afterward.
And if they knew, if anyone saw how I looked at him sometimes when he wasn’t watching, or how I remembered the shape of his mouth in the dark… They’d never let me forget it. They’d laugh louder than they did today. They’d destroy me.
And what would my father say? Or my brother, who wanted to be just like him?
So, I kept my mouth shut. Let Tru pick up the pieces alone. Let him run from the room with his shoulders hunched and his heart probably cracked clean open.
I could still feel his eyes on me. Still see the way he looked at me when I didn’t come to help. Like I’d kicked him in the teeth. Good. He deserved to hurt.
Hewas the one who’d ruined everything. He kissed me back. He made it weird. He made it stick. He planted the thought in my head, and now I couldn’t scrub it out. As if tar was under my skin.
I hated him for that.
I hated the way he made me feel—twisted, messed up, like Iwas wrong in ways I didn’t have words for. And more than anything, I hated that I still looked for him.
I thought pushing Tru away would keep me whole, but I’d never felt emptier. That’s when the transformation started. I woke up one morning and decided I was done bleeding in silence. If they were going to see me, they’d see what I wanted them to see: the easy smile, the swagger, the flirting, the jokes. They’d never see what lived underneath.
I smiled at girls in the hallway. Called them “baby” and “sweetheart” and let them laugh at things I barely said. Let them think I was a sure bet. Let them believe Iwantedthem. And every time one of them touched my arm, I flinched so subtly no one noticed but me.
That was the point. No one could notice anymore.
I started sitting closer to the front of class, where teachers noticed charm more than effort. I got better at saying nothing that sounded like everything. I wore cologne I hated, styled my hair too perfect. Walked as if I knew something no one else did. Like I had nothing to prove.
And every time I passed Tru in the hallway, I made sure to say something that would gut him.
A threat disguised as a warning. “Watch where you walk. The floors can be slippery.”
A cutting snub. “Oh look, it’s Tru. Guess they’ll letanyoneinto honors English now.”
Or an outright taunt. “Try not to cry today, yeah?”
The other guys laughed, but Tru didn’t say anything. He just blinked slowly, like it cost him something to evenlookat me. Good. I needed to be the bad guy in his story. It was the only way I could survive being the ghost in mine.
Because the truth?
Every time I saw someone smile at him—reallysmile, because they saw something beautiful there—something sharp crawled up my spine. I didn’t want him to be okay. I wanted him to be as broken as I felt.
