The memory hurts. Thinking about my behavior hurts.
“He didn’t do anything wrong,” I say miserably. “He was polite and kind and so ridiculous it breaks my heart.”
Maria opens her mouth, but I rush on.
“I was angry at him,” I admit, my voice cracking again. “Because what right did he have to be so irresistible? To smell so good?”
“Tonio—”
“Then he asked for my number and I basically laughed at him. I’m that stupid. That evil .”
“You’re not evil,” she says immediately. “While the jury’s still out on stupid, you were protecting yourself.”
“What a stellar job I did,” I say, folding my arms.
She kisses my forehead. I don’t pull away, which says a lot about my mental state.
“Everything you just said? Nonsense.” Her voice is gentle. “I don’t think for a second your Hulk’s done with you.”
My stomach flips at the thought, but then I frown.
“Don’t say that. I don’t deserve optimism.”
She sighs.
“You do this a lot. You decide you don’t deserve things, but you do. You deserve love and everything that comes with it.”
I open my mouth to argue, but I have nothing to say. For once I don’t have the energy to keep going just for the sake of it.
Deep down, I know Maria is right.
But that knowledge is really deep down.
So deep it just drifted past the Mariana Trench.
CHAPTER 32 – CASPIAN
I follow Mother to the dining room. When I walk past the family portraits, I do what I always do: avert my gaze. My teenage smile, frozen on canvas, hides too much pain.
Father doesn’t look up.
“Son.”
“Father.”
Penelope and Daniel are already seated.
We eat Brazilian seafood stew in silence, the clink of cutlery loud in the absence of conversation.
I can feel Penelope watching me. She looks dissatisfied.
“You drift through life, Caspian,” she says suddenly. “I’ve been thinking about your new major. You can’t really believe studying something as insignificant as restorative justice leads anywhere that matters.”
“I do believe that. It matters to me.”
“Or maybe you don’t care,” she continues, as if I hadn’t spoken. “Maybe you’d rather waste your life dillydallying—”
“Enough,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel.
