Help me. Please, make it stop.
I’m always here.
When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.
When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.
When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.
“Kit? What can I do? Are you alright?” The softest voice, the lightest touch on my knee.
I flinch so hard that I jump in my seat and sob even harder. I can’t face him. I cover my face and hide behind my hair.
Why? I hate this. I hate that I’m like this. That I can’t be with Levi. Why won’t you take it away?
He could. But he won’t. And once again, I’ve let Levi down. I clench my fists until my nails dig into my skin. I can feel Levi’s care, almost tangible, but I curl up tighter, avoiding him like one glance would turn me to salt.
When we’re parked, he rips off his seat belt and bends toward me. “Kit, I want to help.” His voice is soft but filled with urgency. “Please just tell me what’s going on.”
I’m still barefoot. I can’t bear another second in here. Don’t look at him. Just get it out. “This was a bad idea. I’m sorry. I know”—my voice breaks with emotion—“I know better.”
Seat belt off. Grab my shoes. Door open.
I run all the way to my room, lungs burning, tears mixing with the rain. Rocks prick my feet. Water sloshes. Like an extension of my flashback.
I’m okay.
I’m okay.
CHAPTER FORTY
I’m on a mission,embarrassed of this half-baked plan but proud of my newfound courage. Yesterday needs to go away. I ignored Levi’s text checking on me, and I’m in dangerous territory. If I don’t act soon, things will turn unbearably awkward.
After breakfast, I borrow Sophie’s curling iron, swipe on mascara, and zip leather boots beneath my white long-sleeved dress. Books dropped off in the classroom, I bolt across campus.
Sophie didn’t push for details yesterday when I came barreling in, just held me there on the sofa like a drenched cat. As she rhythmically smoothed my hair, I let something slip about ruining things with Levi. Without hesitation, she said, “Then go get him back. Put on that white dress he likes and get him back.”
I’m not sure about the logic or wisdom of that advice, but I’m following it out of desperation. I never had him fully, but I had some part of him, and getting back to Before Us might still be an option. Joking and confiding and reading his eloquent, caring eyesis worth almost anything to me. I can still choose to be Brave Kit. So I’m run-wandering around campus, panning my head around, hunting him down. I’ll hate if I curled my hair for no reason—it was a big step. I know he’s frustrated that I won’t tell him anything, and he deserves to be, but an argument would only push us further apart. Maybe a pretty dress and a smooth-over will be enough of a Band-Aid, just this once. Enough to keep him from insisting I tell the truth.
A far-off car door slams, and a spike of fear stabs through me—proof that this is necessary. Two weeks after prom, I couldn’t hear a door shut without flinching, nightmares every night. I couldn’t stand another word of Mom’s consolation, so I told Tess everything, thinking I wanted her level-headed advice. Now I can hardly stand the memory … Squirming in that armchair in the church atrium, throat aching with hidden tears. Her sheer contempt. She said I was asking for it, that I should be happy, that I didn’t even deserve flashbacks because nothing happened. She said it wasn’t fair I was spared when worse things happen to girls who don’t walk right into it. Her derision, her flippancy. I shiver. Enduring a sequel with Levi? Never. I can’t, and I won’t.
A cool wind blows the final leaves off a tree. I hold down the skirt of my dress while my eyes bounce around my surroundings.
There. Levi’s dark-green sweater. A favorite of mine. I can’t wait to see the hazel above it. I stride up to him and his Jesus backpack with all the confidence and calm I can muster. This ridiculous plan might work. I need it to work.
He sees me coming, but he doesn’t start like I expect. He straightens to perfect posture and avoids my eyes. “Are you okay?” I’ve never seen him so walled off.
I motion past the corner of the engineering building, ensuring the privacy he’ll want so we can get back to normal. He follows silently, stops at the wall, and pivots to face me without meeting my gaze. I thought he’d be stubborn, insist that I explain. What is this?
My skin chills. Are we done? It’s only fair. He should distancehimself from me and my crazy—especially without a word of explanation.
“Levi?” I try.
When his eyes finally meet mine, they soften instantly. They’re every bit as green and gold and dreamy above his sweater as I anticipated, but I can’t enjoy them because I caused the hurt there, the concern. I want to kiss him until he sees how much I care about him. No! Not the k-word. I can’t think like that. I have to stay on task.
“Friends?” It’s not actually a question. I’m channeling my mother—only a yes will be acceptable.
He doesn’t answer, so the plan is on. I step close to him, as close as possible without touching, and look way up.
