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“I’m game if you are,” I said, since she seemed to be okay now.
Bow nodded. “I’ll let her know. Honestly, I think she’s lost her mind.” She rocked on her sock-covered feet. “If Dorian finds out, he’ll be pissed.”
I lifted my eyes, but didn’t question why she said what she did. Dorian and his protective shit when it came to my sister was legendary. I obviously appreciated him looking out for her, but the dude was completely over the top sometimes.
I pulled out my phone. “I’ll text him we’re going, and that I’ll be with you guys.” It might not matter but it was worth a shot, and these dudes could get handsy at these parties. I didn’t want dudes messing with my sister either, or Fawn and Bow. “You can go ahead and let Sloane know we’re going. I just need to get some shoes on.”
Fawn might want to get ready too, and she was already up on her feet.
The door closed behind Bow, and I almost walked into Fawn since I just sent off the text to Dorian. I laughed. “Sorry.”
“No problem.” She didn’t move and studied the door before facing me. She frowned. “I guess I just wanted to check in. You were kind of spacing before Bow came in.”
And she was already keeping her promise to me, checking on me. “I was, but I’m good. You good?” There was a moment I questioned that when Bow came in as well.
Fawn waved me off. “I’m fine. And this does sound fun. It’s going to be fun.”
I agreed it sounded like fun, but I also felt we were talking about something without talking about something.
That’s just you.
It was just me, me and my secrets, and if I did have some kindness when it came to myself, I would have shared that fact with her. Instead, I just smiled again and let her get ready.
I was already breaking half our promise.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Ares
I HATE THIS.
I NEED U.
FORGIVE ME.
My stick dragged through the dirt, the same three sentences drawn over and over again.
I HATE THIS.
I NEED U.
FORGIVE ME.
I forgot how many times I drew the letters, probably about as many times as I did on Fawn’s back before she kicked me out of her room. I used her freckles, the tiny imperfections like stars forming a constellation. They were perfect in their imperfection, unique like snowflakes. Art.
I HATE THIS.
I NEED U.
FORGIVE ME.
I’d drawn a heart after that last set of sentences on her back. Well, I’d started to until she woke up, which was just as pathetic as me drawing words in the first place. I had no right to do any of that, none of it.
I HATE THIS.
I NEED U.
FORGIVE ME.
