“I thought,” I start, my voice coming out too small.Pathetic. “You said you didn’t want her. You said—”
He runs a hand through his hair with a mean laugh, looking away from me. “You think I actually want this? You? Come on,Alex. Be realistic.” He shakes his head. “You’re never gonna get it, are you?”
I think I do get it.
He doesn’t want me. I’ve lied to my family. I’ve let him fuck me any time he wanted. And it’s still not enough.
I’mneverenough.
I press my back against the wall, wiping my eyes with my sleeve. “I’m sorry,” I say with a sniffle, even though nothing I can say will change anything.
He looks at me, watches me cry silently, and then he stomps toward the locker room without another word.
I stay where I am until I get my face under control.
Iris is waiting for me on the bleachers, and I’m glad to see her. She never treats me like baggage, and I’m really fucking grateful for that right now.
But when she looks at me, I can tell that she saw something.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine,” I say, my voice coming out a little bit too scratchy.
“Alex—”
“Don’t. I’m fine,” I snap.
She tells me about being bullied in high school. That she knows what it feels like.
But she hasno ideawhat she saw.
Now
I’m packing my bigger suitcase when Mike appears in the doorway.
He doesn’t say anything at first. He leans against the frame with his arms crossed, watching me fold a shirt with a little pout on his lips and his eyelids heavy, the way they get when he smokes.
He’s been trying not to say anything, but I know he cares.
He always cares.
And that’s the thing about Mike that no one else knows. WhatRyandoesn’t know. He hides it under confidence, and jokes, and sex. But underneath all of it, he feels so much.
“How long again?”
“Twelve days. I’ll be back before your New Year’s party,” I tell him, tucking one of my good shirts into the bag.
Part of me regrets telling Nate and Iris I would stay with them over winter break. The last thing I want to do is leave Mike for that long. But this is the last chance I’ll have to go home again before they move into the new house.
He pushes off the doorframe and comes into the room, stopping behind me to wrap his arms around me. He rests his head against my back, and I put my hand over his. “It’s a long time.”
“I know. It’ll be the last time, I promise.”
“It’s Christmas.” He says it simply, but I know what he means.
There’s a difference between any other random holiday and Christmas. Everyone knows that, even people who act like they don’t care. And he’s gotta be missing his parents extra right now.
Christmas always makes everybody miss Mom.
