I feel something shift after, like maybe, just maybe, we can find our way back to normal if we really try. He’s not treating me like he hates me. He’s hurting, yes, but he still loves me. I can feel it in his kisses, in the way he touches me with a gentle caution, as if he’s afraid to break me.
Once we’re lying next to each other, his soft breathing against my skin, I close my eyes and pretend, just for this moment, that we haven’t broken anything beyond repair. That the bruises, inside and out, will fade. That the Eli I fell in love with, the gentle, sweet boy who made me feel safe, is still in there.
14
Lydia
Weeks have slid by, and if someone were to tell me that I had imagined everything that happened, that it was just some dark, twisted nightmare, I might actually believe them. Eli has been nothing but kind, gentle, and endlessly patient since then.
I haven’t seen a hint of anger from him since that night, the night I’m desperately trying to erase from my memory. Even though some nights when I close my eyes, I’m right back there in that car. Some dreams I have blend seamlessly between the pain he caused me and being eight years old again, after the wreck, looking out at my dead parents. Sometimes when I look out of the car, I don’t see my dad lying there in the road…I see Eli. I always wake up gasping from those nightmares. I don’t know what they mean, or if they mean anything at all. I just want them to stop.
I know things aren’t the same, not really. There’s still a shadow lingering between us, something fragile that could break at the slightest touch. But I’m holding on to things being okay again.
Eli’s been crushed by his parents’ divorce and his mom telling him that she’s moving out. It’s consuming him and slowly chipping away at his confidence and happiness. I just want to fix him…and bring back the happy, loud, funboy I met.
We’re sitting on the edge of his bed when he tells me that his mom told him she wants him to meet her boyfriend, the one she cheated with, the one she’s now dating. I can tell how much it hurts him, how much it’s messed with his head and made him feel replaceable, something he constantly tells me he’s afraid of happening with me.
“It’s just so messed up,” he whispers bitterly. “How can she just move on like it never mattered? Like my dad meant nothing? Like our family was disposable?”
I reach for his hand, wanting to do anything to ease his pain and comfort him. “I’m sorry, Eli. You don’t deserve this.”
His eyes lift to mine, hurt and searching for a way that I can fix it for him. “You’ll never do that to me, right? You’ll never just leave me for someone else?”
There’s no anger in his voice, only a desperate fear I wish I could erase. “Never,” I promise. “I would never do that to you.”
He nods and then sighs. “I just—sometimes I get so scared.”
I pull him close, running fingers softly through his hair. “I’m here,” I whisper. “I’m not going anywhere.”
15
Lydia
It’s a normal Tuesday morning. The cool wind is blowing through the open window in my car, and I’m sitting with my leg propped up on the seat as I drive. The volume of the radio is up so high I can barely hear myself think, which I prefer. “S.L.U.T.” by Bea Miller is playing, and I’m still half asleep as I pull into the student parking lot.
I’m suddenly wide awake now when I see a small group of students all standing around Eli’s car. Confused, I quickly park, grab my bag, and step out to figure out what’s going on. When I get close enough, I see why they are there, and gasp quietly.
Spray-painted on Eli’s car, and across his friends’ cars, are huge, brightly painted letters that say: “LYDIA, PROM?”
I stand there frozen, embarrassed, and also a little giddy. “Oh my gosh…” I whisper, and try to keep my smile under control as Eli moves through the small crowd toward me. He has a bunch of pink roses in his hands, which he knows are my favorite. His face is red, and there’s a cute boyish grin forming on his lips.
“Morning, beautiful,” he says quietly, searching my eyes hopefully. “So…what do you say?”
I chuckle softly and covermy mouth with my hand, trying to hide how happy I am. “Yes,” I say breathlessly, stepping closer. “Of course.”
Eli puts his arm around my waist and pulls me in for a kiss, right there, in front of everyone. Everything else fades away—the whispers, the stares, the heavy weight I’ve been carrying around lately. It’s justus, and it all feels so right again.
* * *
That feeling’s short-lived only until lunchtime, though. It’s quickly ruined by the worst kind of person to ever exist—a mean, sadbitch.
All the normal voices that I’m used to surround me, talking and whispering about me. Usually I can tune them out, but today, one voice cuts through everything else being said.“God, I don’t get why Eli made such a big deal out of asking her. It’s honestly embarrassing.”
My head snaps up, and my pulse quickly picks up. Mary—with her perfectly straightened blonde hair and perfectly cruel smile—meets my eyes without hesitation.
“Excuse me?” I say sharply, anger crawling up my spine. It’s anger I’ve been trying to keep down for so long at this school. I just—I have this rage in me…something that hasn’t had anywhere to go in so long. Today, I finally see an outlet for it, and I can’t stop.
Mary smiles. “It’sembarrassing,” she says, emphasizing it this time. “I mean, we all know he’s only with you because he feels sorry for you. Nobody thinks that heactuallyloves the freak of the school. That’s probably why he talks to other girls behind your back too.”
