It feels as if I’ve stepped into the eye of the storm. The adrenaline rush of the night peters out while I continue to dig my fingers into half-healed bruises, wincing each time the consolidated hurt presents itself as a tangible vessel.
“Consider this: if you truly want Staten to be happy, you won’t continue to drag her down, and you won’t keep her from living her best life. All you have to do is ask yourself if it’s worth it: keeping her complaisant so you can play house.”
I have nothing else to say. The only thing that I question—time and time again—is my deservingness of the girl who took a chance on me.
Leif still has his greasy fingers hooked in the cavity of my torso, clawing, scratching,pullingat my offal with a greed not forged from hunger but from animalistic savagery. A greed thatwants to see my bloody parts bared to the rest of the world; a greed intent on dragging my deepest insecurities toward the light.
And I hate that his unsubstantiated accusations ring true, because I begin to wonder if Staten’s life would be a lot better without me in it.
27
WHEN THE SKY MOURNS, SO DO I
STATEN
Ican’t believe Leif had the gall to speak to Knox like that. I felt so…powerless. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did, and I definitely should’ve left the party with my boyfriend. I don’t know why I didn’t. I hate admitting it, but I was embarrassed. Knox needed me in that moment, and I abandoned him.
There’s an ache in my stomach as I walk through campus with my face smushed to my phone screen, waiting for Knox to message me back.
I hate this feeling. I hatehurtingpeople, and that’s all I’ve been doing for the past few months.
Nothing else has occupied my mind—not even the Lit final. All I think about is Knox. Every second of every day. I think about the kindness and quiet support he’s shown me…and then I think about my inability to return the favor, especially in his time of need.
I’m contemplating disregarding the societal rules of consecutive texting and breaking my five-message quota when I run into the equivalent of a very tall wall. I don’t anticipate that mysilent sentry of a stranger is the one person who was so far back in my rearview he was almost completely out of the picture.
At least, until last night.
Leif stares down at me, guilt unfurling over his hardened expression and emphasizing the heavy bags under his eyes that weren’t there before.
Shock keeps me glued to the spot, and it feels like my entire body has been plunged into arctic water, my nervous system trying to reconfigure itself amongst a sudden induction of adrenaline and heart-accelerating endorphins.
“Leif?” Despite the single syllable, there’s a weight to the word that I don’t like. When I roll it around in my mouth, the taste is nauseating.
“Hey, um. I’m sorry to ambush you like this. I was just hoping we could talk,” he stammers, pasting on a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes—a stage illusion that only I can see through.
We may have become estranged within the last month, but that doesn’t erase the years I’ve spent learning the routes of his emotional plays.
“Why?” I croak, anger corroding my voice. “You clearly had enough to say to me after the game.”
He scratches the back of his neck, and maybe it’s because of the fading afternoon light or a wake-up call to my otherwise preoccupied attention, but I finally notice the aftermath of his broken nose. The laceration where skin was first broken, the crookedness of bone, the complementary swelling.
“I’m so sorry for lashing out at you last night. I’m so sorry for causing a scene. I miss you, Staten.A lot. I know things have been tense between us, and it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have said what I did about Knox. I was just…fuck, I was hurt. The minute he stepped into your life, I was worried he’d take you away from me.”
I’m not even sure I’m fully comprehending what he’s telling me. It’s like I’m standing in the middle of an echo chamber.
Tears begin to warp my vision into caustics. “So that gives you an excuse to try and punch him?”
“Of course not. No. I—that was a terrible oversight on my part. I thought I’d be happier if he suffered, but the only one I’ve been hurting is you.”
“Why are you even bothering with me? You’re in a relationship.”
“Trishella and I aren’t…together. I just wanted to make you jealous, and I failed miserably. All I did was level the playing field—a playing field that I didn’t want to be a part of.”
Since I’m already on a suicide mission, it’s kind of out of my control when I blurt out my next thought. “Why do you hate him so much?”
Leif rears back. “I don’t hate him. Ienvyhim.”
I dig the heel of my palm into my forehead, no better than some poor, helpless bird that’s found itself on the other side of a window, colliding with glass in an explosion of feathers and blood. Disoriented, displaced, so desperately yearning for something that’s been hidden behind a deceptively flashy façade.
