Something strong.
Something punchy, and whiskey is the only strong stuff I know; I have four brothers whose drink of choice is whiskey.
As soon as I saw Reed and he saw me, I took off and made a beeline for the bar because I needed alcohol and also because I needed to get away from my friends.
Who had also seen him and were asking all kinds of questions.
I never told them anything, see.
About what happened in the past. About how I ended up here.
I mean, except for the fact that I stole a car from a guy named Reed Jackson and drowned it in the lake.
They don’t know that he was Roman to me once.
They don’t know that I loved him and that he broke my heart. And that I was supposed to end up in a juvenile detention center instead of at a girl’s reform school.
And neither do they know that I sneak out every week on Thursdays to practice ballet, to chase my dream.
Not that they would object. In fact, I think they’d be super supportive about it.
But all of this is so ingrained in my past, so ingrained inhimthat I never had the courage to tell them.
And now suddenly, he’s here and oh my God, I can’t handle this.
I can’t.
Thatasshole.
That fucking asshole. That fucking asshole bastard. That motherfucking…
A long shadow falls on me then.
A black shadow.
I’m standing outside the bar, propped up against the brick wall, drinking my whiskey. I couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him. I couldn’t stand to dance.
Not where he could watch.
So I stole my whiskey from Will and ran outside to calm myself.
But of course he’s here as well.
Of course he’s chased me down. Like he used to two years ago.
Nothing has changed.
Nothing.
And he’s walking toward me.
His boots are thudding on the ground and I feel those thuds in my chest. I feel them in my heart. Like he’s stomping on it with every step that he takes.
And all I can do is stand here, stuck to this spot, letting him do that.
Letting him stomp on my heart with those boots.
Black with a shiny metallic buckle on the side.
