My head throbs with an incoming headache. Closing my eyes doesn’t stop the tears and choking on them doesn’t stop my chest tightening so hard it hurts.
Hyde thinks I’m trying to steal his friends the way I stole our parents. In his head, it’s still hospital rooms, hushed conversations, Mom crying in the corners, and people hovering near my bed.
He remembers being unseen.
How convenient that he doesn’t remember whathappened after. The nights I sat outside his door because he wouldn’t let me in. Every time I lingered at the edge of his room, hoping he’d look up and choose me like he says Creed chose him.
He built a life that didn’t include me and I told myself I deserved it, because if I hadn’t been sick, if my illness hadn’t demanded so much, maybe he wouldn’t have learned how to live without me.
Evan didn’t break me or invent the voice that told me I was too much. He just pressed on the part that was already bruised.
I curl my fingers into the pillow and curse Dr. Quinn’s advice. My old pieces fit fine. The sketching. The talking. The stupid denim dress that made me feel pretty.
They fit so well I forgot why I got rid of them. They fit so fucking well I’m right back where I started... crying over boys I desperately want while they push me away.
42
Creed
My tongue is still inside Flora’s mouth when I’m yanked back. My head snaps to the side a second before Noah’s fist slams into my face and pain explodes across my cheekbone.
Blood fills my mouth and I square up, ready to swing. It’s a reflex. No matter who it is, if I get hit, I hit back, but Dash moves faster and shoves himself between us, one hand braced against my chest, the other against Noah’s.
“Alright, that’s enough blood for one evening. Jesus Christ, guys, you need air.”
“I’m fine,” I bite out.
“You’re far from fine,” he shoots back, curling his fingers around my bicep.
Noah doesn’t argue. Breathing hard, he grabs my other arm, and they drag me through the crowd, out of the common room, down the corridor, and through the front doors.
Cold air hits my face, but it doesn’t calm me down. I don’t think anything will until I get to Jed’s bar.
Dash and Noah shove me against the wall, my head hitting the stone, adding insult to the throbbing in my temples. Everything aches, my knuckles are split, and my chest feels like it’s caving in.
“Deal with him,” Noah says to Dash. “I’ll go check on Hyde and Millie.”
“Alright. Let’s see.” Dash moves in front of me as Noah walks away. “What are you doing, Creed?”
“Making room.”
“Yeah... fuck, no.” He jogs after Noah and taps his shoulder on the way past, shouting, “Tag, you’re it!” as he disappears inside the building.
Noah huffs, eyes rolling to the sky before he comes back. He pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lights one up and puts it in my mouth. He lights another for himself, his face vanishing behind a smoke curtain for a second.
“Go on,” he prompts. “Explain.”
“There’s nothing to explain. I’m done. It’s you she wants.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? Millie wantsyou.”
“Yeah?” I take a long drag, my pulse calming down slowly. “Is that why she was with you the whole evening? Is that why she ended up inyourarms?”
He rears back and pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out a harsh breath. “You’re unbelievable. She wasshaken. You beat the shit out of a guy right in front of her,what did you expect?”
I don’t answer. There’s nothing more to say, so I focus on the cigarette burning between my fingers, the cool air swatting my face, the familiarity of bleeding knuckles.
This is my normal.
