“You’re wrong about that. You’re so easy to love.”
We’re silent for the rest of the ride home—I guess I should say “to Billy’s house” because things are moving so fast. Maybe too fast.
After pulling into the spot labeled “P2,” I open my door and step out onto the concrete parking lot as Billy comes around to my side. He takes my hand in his, and we walk to the elevator. “I assume you want chocolate ice cream?”
“Oh, you should never assume.” I smirk. “I’d like two thirds chocolate, one third vanilla.”
“Wow, you have it all figured out, huh?”
“Ice cream. I’ve got ice cream figured out. The rest of it, not so much.”
Outside of his door, he lets me unlock the door with the fingerprint scanner. When the lock clicks, I reach for the door, but it doesn’t open.
“That’s strange,” he says absently. Using his finger, we hear the locks click again. This time, the door opens. “Hm, weird.”
Inside, he says the thing to make the lights turn on. The living room lights up, along with the rest of the large open space. I step across the threshold and begin to make my way toward the hallway that leads to our bedrooms, saying, “I’m going to get my pj—” I’m stopped in midsentence. I’m staring at his sectional sofa and feel my breath leave me. All of it. It’s gone. “Billy?” I squeak.
“What the fuck?” he shouts so loudly it echoes throughout the entire place.
I’m crying—no, crying isn’t enough. I’m sobbing. I don’t know when it started, and it may never end because someone—oh, I know who did it—my sister has destroyed my quilt. It’s literally shredded to the point it’s just a pile of scraps. She took her time.
“Did you have her fingerprint programmed too?” I say through sloppy, wet tears.
“I….” Billy looks back at me, then at my most prized possession. His eyes meet mine. He looks devastated. “Yes.”
I can’t stand here and look at it anymore. Maybe if I don’t look at it, it means it didn’t happen. Turning toward the hallway, I run as fast as I can in heels to my bedroom.
“JoJo?” Billy yells.
But I ignore him. I need to be alone. I need time to process this. I have to figure some things out. Like where do I go now? I can’t stay here. I can’t go home. I’ll tell my parents what happened, but they won’t care. They won’t understand. “They’ll always side with Gisele.” At my door, I push it open, step through, then quickly shut it and lock it. Throwing myself on my bed, I grab a pillow and cry into the cool softness.
“JoJo?” Billy’s tapping on my door. “Let me in.”
“No. I need to be alone for a while.” I’d like to tell him I’ll be okay, but that’s not true. I won’t be okay. While I know it’s just a quilt, I can’t tell you how many times it’s made me feel better. I associate that quilt with good times and bad times, but no matter which, it’s always been a comfort to me. And that fucking bitch destroyed it.
“JoJo, come on. Let me in.”
I don’t want him to think I’m mad at him. “I just need some time alone.”
I hear him sigh outside my door. “Fine. I’ll be back in a little while.”
Okay. I don’t say it, I just think it. Instead, I spend the rest of the night crying into my pillow.
* * *
I’mawoken by the warmth of his body. “JoJo?” he whispers in my ear. “I’m sorry.”
Rolling over to face him, I touch his cheek. “It’s not your fault. I don’t blame you. It’s all on her. It’s just…” I feel my nose and eyes burn. “That quilt… it was my favorite thing in the entire world.” I sniffle. “And she knew it. I bet she was after that at my parents’ house. When it wasn’t there, she went ahead and cut up my other things.”
“Maybe we can fix it?”
I laugh between more tears. “Did you see it? It was just shredded fabric.”
“I know, but—”
“Billy, my grandma sewed tiny messages to me all over that thing, and there’s no way it can b-be fixed now. All of that special, personal stuff is gone.”
Kissing my good cheek, Billy says,, “God, I’m so sorry, beautiful JoJo.” He sounds heartbroken.
