Me. Trembling and wishing I’d just disappear.
My entire body goes cold and then numb, my chest so tight I can barely get a breath as memories flood in.
My hand where I never wanted it.
My tears pulling at his smile.
My voice too shocked and scared and small to say no.
To say stop.
To scream.
“Stop,” I manage to whisper. “Stop, stop.”
Alex is off me and on the other side of the bed so quickly, it’s almost as though he were never there.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” he says, breathing hard. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
I shake my head but I curl up, wrapping my arms around my knees to cover myself and stop the shaking. I’m dizzy, too much oxygen, not enough space in my lungs.
“Alex,” I choke out. “You didn’t . . . you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Yes, I did. Shit. I’m such an asshole.”
I want to crawl over to him, but I can’t move, can’t make my thoughts stop screaming at me.
Stupid little bitch.
Stupid little bitch.
Stupid little bitch.
I squeeze my eyes shut and pull one of his pillows to my chest, trying to get a damn grip. I’ve never been with a boy like this. Never even been with Charlie like this. We only ever went to second base, and even that took months, and then it was only over the bra or Charlie’s chest binder for even more weeks after that. I’ve never touched anyone my own age below the waist. And it’s not that I don’t want to—?I do. I wanted to with Charlie. God, I wanted to, but every time my fingers brushed the button on her jeans, I’d freeze and it was as if some force I couldn’t control was moving my hand away. Her hands would drift south too, and she’d always ask if it was okay, and every single time, I’d lock up and move her hand back to my waist. She was fine with it, her kisses just as gentle, the sigh she released whenever I pressed my lips to her collarbone just as happy and content as ever.
Right now I want this with Alex, even though it’s for all the wrong reasons. But my body and mind are at war, fear and memory shredding through the desire.
“I’m sorry, Mara,” Alex says, and he sounds totally destroyed.
“Alex, look at me.”
He does, but I still can’t make myself go over to him, and when I speak, I don’t even recognize my voice. Or maybe I do. Maybe that scared little girl is finally tired of being tucked away and hidden. “You’re fine. I just freaked out.”
“This is not fine, Mara. This is anything but fine. I can’t do this . . . I can’t.”
I stare at him, thinking back on him and Owen in the driveway, his tears on this very bed just minutes ago, and something shifts inside me. Another memory of a different night, a different Alex, a different Mara.
Did you find Owen?
Yeah. He’s fine. He’s fine, he’s with Hannah.
“Alex. Why did you ask Owen to tell you the truth tonight? What did you mean?”
He lifts his head to look at me, but he can’t hold my gaze. He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath.
But you saw him and Hannah at the lake, when you went back to tell him you were taking me home?
Yeah, I saw him.
