And just as my heart stutters at the realisation that he knows what that is—that maybe he has that same scar—he reels back, white, horrified. “I’m sorry.”
The way he’s apologising for touching it means he definitely understands. In full. “It’s alright,” I tell him.
But I know it’s not, because he passes a swift hand through his hair and mutters, “I can’t process this. I can’t.”
Even if I’m not supposed to touch him, I can’t help it. I can feel his pain. My hands are on his arms before I know what I’m doing. “It’s just going to take a bit of time. Sit back down.”
With a shake of his head, he does the opposite. He shoves my hands away and walks straight out the door.
I know where he lives. I can find him. So I let him go, to give him space. When he’s had some time to adjust, when I’ve had some time to adjust, I’ll talk to him again.
But the second I sit down, the door flies open. August’s back, and it’s weird, the little heart thump thing in my chest. I can’t help but feel there’s something kind of heroic about him, throwing caution to the wind and facing his fate. Coming back to associate with me when it’s theoretically dangerous to even…
Yeah, no.
He’s just come back to pay the bill.
Kelly’s talking to him, but he’s keeping his eyes down, concentrating super hard on his wallet. She looks at me, sayssomething to him. He’s even pinker now. He fumbles his card to the floor, and he’s scrambling to pick it up where it’s almost flush with the smooth surface.
He’s a complete mess. And why wouldn’t he be?
He’s not like me, by the looks of it. Not yet.
He’s all soft and sweet.
Like I used to be.
And it honestly hurts a bit, what I’m going to have to do to him.
And that’s weird. Because I haven’t felt this sort of guilt in a long time. A very long time.
But being with him, with that version ofme, it’s…
It makes me sick. I feel sick.
He beeps his card, and he’s back out the door and gone.
I should probably go after him. But it’s cold as fuck out there, and he’s not ready to talk anyway.
I wonder how long Kelly will let me stay here if I don’t order any food…
CHAPTER FIVE
GOOD AUGUST
OUT OF TIME
Ablast of warm wind slides over my face the moment my foot hits the ground outside the cafe. My shoe lands with a squelch. It’s black, dark out here, and I can’t make out what I stepped in.
How is it dark? It was daylight a second ago, through the cafe windows.
And what is that smell?
It’s ammonia, like… old piss. And god, what did I step in? I lift my shoe, but I still can’t see a thing. What’s wrong with the streetlights?
But then I look up.
There are no street lights. And these buildings, I don’t recognise them at all.
