“He would.” And so long as he doesn’t, I don’t have to confront what love would mean for us. For him. Roped to a miserable, dependent shut-in. Neither of us got into this situation for love. All it would do is trap us. Him with me. Me with this version of myself. “I… I should go. Check if they need help with the dishes.”
Amy brushed off this excuse only a moment ago, but she’s clever enough to realize that I want an escape. From her. From me. Even from him. The lifeline I caught hold of after spotting the Grand Astrologue slips from my grip as I realize who I would be pulling below water with me.
I have to find some way to break away from Sid before I drown him.
WHEN I RETREATto the room I used to share with April, Sid is distraught. He bangs on the door—and to make matters worse, April lets him in, then abandons me, so I have to face my heartbroken husband on my own. You can’t count on teenagers for anything.
I press my face against the mattress, the sheets already sticky with my tears. I can’t look at him. Forget leaving the farm, I don’t know how I’m ever supposed to leave this bed again.
It’s not even Astolia I’m thinking about anymore. It’s every fucked up thing I’ve done since lighting the signal fire.
Shooting Sid with my slingshot.
Running around the hospital, trying to break down doors.
Cussing out an old man who walks with a cane.
Knocking the wooden spoon out of Wendell’s hand.
Sobbing on a couch in the middle of the exchange.
Trying to convince April to abandon the only place that can keep her alive.
Greeting Amy with a knife.
Along with these memories comes a gallery of stunned faces, as if each person was shocked to discover I wasn’t as human as I looked. Maybe I’m not. Humans are supposed to be social animals, craving the support of a community. Instead, I’m terrified of everything that’s supposed to make me happy. This place might have saved April, but it’s crushing me.
“Kayla.” Sid’s hand is warm as it wraps over my shoulder, large and firm. I’m not strong enough to push him off. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to fix things or… I thought you might want a friend, you know? But I should have asked you first. I should have—”
“Youshouldhave picked Amy.”
“You’re kidding, right? I thought we already…” He lets out a hollow laugh. “I don’twantAmy. I want you. I love you.”
There it is. Strange, how such beautiful words can cut so sharply.
I curl into the mattress. “You shouldn’t. Why the hell would you ever choose me when you deserve a normal—”
“Don’t talk about yourself that way.”
“It’s true!” I’m angry enough that I roll over so I can yell at him without the mattress swallowing my words. When I look up, I’m confronted by his face, leaning over me, eyes shining like blue skies I could fly up into if I had wings. It leaves me breathless for a second, until I swallow back the last of my tears and go on. “You’ve been—I mean… you’re perfect.”
“Holy shit,no.”
“You are! You’re perfect and I can’t even love you the way you deserve.”
There. I said it.
His knees buckle as he sits next to me on the bed. “So…you don’t love me,” he finally says, blue sky eyes shuttered by clouds.
“I can’t.” My voice sounds a thousand leagues away. “I don’t know how.”
“You love April,” he says.
“You know that’s not the same.”
“Isn’t it? Because I know it’s not the sex thing. You’re okay withthat.” His voice rises and I flinch. Not because I’m afraid of him anymore, but because it’s clear I did what Amy warned me about. I hurt him. “So it’s just the love part. Why, Kayla? Why can’t you love me?”
“I don’t know!” How can I even put this into words? There’s no good explanation, because a normal person wouldn’t be reacting this way. “I just can’t. I’ve lost too much. I can’t live a normal life because I can’t make myself believe it’s real. It’s too late. I’m too scared.”
