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I just hope it’s not too late.
I look down, my thumbs flying over my phone screen. Look at me.
I watch her reading the text. Her face screws up and tenses in agony. She doesn’t look up.
I try again. I’m throwing the game and retrieving your diary. I’m sorry it took me so long to get my head out of my ass. It was dark back there. Hard to see right from wrong. I was my sister’s keeper for so long, I never once wondered if she was worth keeping.
She still won’t look at me. Tears roll down her cheeks. I suck at this. I don’t know much about girls. I know even less about girls I like. And apparently, I know next to nothing about girls I love.
Love. Four letters can’t cover what I feel for Daria Followhill. They seem too trivial, too small, too overused.
Via made me choose between you two. Said she’d run away back to Mississippi if I made the wrong choice.
Her fingers are placid, hovering over her screen. She is not saying, or typing, or doing anything. And love IS humbling, I know now because I want to punch myself in the face for being the smug bastard who assumed he’d just walk out of this shit unscathed. The tin man didn’t ask for a heart—but got one anyway.
I love you, Daria Followhill, and I think you love me, too. In fact, I think we fell at the same time. You, like rain, in drizzles, over the weeks. Me, like the fucking sky above my head, all at once, crashing without the faintest chance of stopping.
Her fingers are moving. I’m mesmerized. She types, looks up, and meets my gaze through the screen of her tears, then puts her phone down.
“It’s too late.”
Rushing toward her, I fall to my knees, wrapping her waist in my arms and burying my head in her thighs. She doesn’t move.
“Skull Eyes?”
“Don’t lose the game. The journal will eventually get out. It’s already out of our control. You shouldn’t deprive yourself and your teammates of this win.”
“Fuck the game. What about you? What about us?”
What about the fact I just ripped my fucking heart out and dumped it at your feet, waiting for you to pick it up, and you kicked it across your room? Huh?
I look up. She bites her inner cheek. Her nose is pink, and her eyes are glittering, and I realize I no longer enjoy her suffering. It’s ripping me apart.
“I told you I love you,” I remind her quietly as though she wasn’t here two seconds ago.
“If this is how you love…” She shakes her head. “Then I don’t want your love, Penn Scully.” I open my mouth to say something, but she beats me to it. “Besides, you have Adriana and Harper to take care of.”
“Adriana and Harper are complicated.” I rear my head back about to spit out some real shit.
“I’ve known Adriana ever since I was a kid. Adriana developed a crush on me, but I never reciprocated. I was stuck in the girls-are-disgusting stage when she started noticing boys. That didn’t stop her from frequenting my house almost every day. I warned her so many times not to, especially as the years passed and things got worse at home. Mom was out of it, and Rhett became more violent. One day, just before sophomore year, she came over while I was at practice. Rhett opened the door and told her I should be in any minute, so she waited. He raped her.”
I watch Daria’s eyes widen, then she swallows hard, so I continue.
“She got out of there, shocked and ashamed. She didn’t want anyone to know. Three months later, she found out she was pregnant. It was too late to do anything about it.” I clear my throat.
I remember all the times Adriana agonized over not wanting Harper before she was born. How bad I felt for her. How guilty.
“Mostly, she was scared that Rhett would tell someone. Boast or brag about it. Most people would try to hide it, but Rhett is a fucking tool and not the sharpest in the shed. Not to mention he flirts with sanity sparsely. So Addy and I made up a story to protect both her and Harper, and gave Harper a semi-legitimate background. We told everyone I was the dad because I didn’t have a good reputation to lose—I already came from an impressive lineage of fuckups. I didn’t mind telling people that Addy was my girlfriend. It kept the teenyboppers at arm’s length. Plus, I never really wanted to date anyone.”
Until you.
“That’s how things have gone for the past three years. And for the most part, everything ran smoothly. When I hooked up with girls like Blythe, Adriana turned a blind eye. And I hooked up with girls all the time since I wouldn’t touch Adriana. But the minute you stepped into the picture, things got messy and real.”
