Page 34 of Save Me

Good, genius idea.

So instead of reaching, I pick at my nails.

“I hate these things,” Micah says, looking out over the nicely manicured backyard full of people. “They make me twitchy.”

I try to press my own twitchy hands into my lap. Immediately, I wonder why Micah’s here then, but that’s not professional to ask, so I hold it in.

Micah runs his hands over Princess’ back. “Mom is like, crazy, but her one saving feature is that she likes Princess.”

I sneak a glance at him. I didn’t peg Micah to have a crazy mom. I’m not sure how I pegged him, actually. Rich, hot, has anything he could possibly want, and way too cheerful for his own good. Not with shitty parents.

For a second, I see Micah’s mask slip as he looks out over the backyard. Only, his eyes don’t darken, and his mouth doesn’t curl down into a sneer. Instead, his face drops, and he looks almost…sad.

Okay, so different mask; he’s playing the pity card. And considering he’s my boss, I’m obligated to play along at least a little.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

Micah glances at me, seemingly surprised. “About what?”

Why the hell is he surprised right now? I’m playing into his game. He should be feeling at least a little smug. With monumental effort, I keep my face blank. “About your mom,” I say. Now I’m looking out at the bushes that line the backyard, all elegantly sculpted. Micah’s better at this game than Arthur was; I’ll give him that.

“Yeah, well, family is family.” Micah shrugs. “Enough about me. What about you?”

Immediately, I stiffen. He thinks he’s played me so well that he’ll get vulnerability from one sad report about his mom? Maybe he isn’t better than Arthur.

“Your family host stuff like this a lot?” Micah asks.

“No.” Even talking about my family makes a cool indifference skitter down my spine. I moved away as soon as I could, and I don’t speak to them much anymore. My siblings and I drifted apart, something I blame myself for. I don’t even like thinking about them. And I really don’t like that Micah is sniffing after that. Nose like a shark for weakness, I see. And I must be running around bleeding everywhere. Must have a sign on me that says: I’m wounded, please hurt me!

“Oh? You live far?” Micah asks, sounding surprised.

“No.” An hour isn’t far, but he isn’t getting any details.

There’s a bit of a silence, then Micah says, “Well, you’re always welcome to hang with my fam if you miss it!”

I steal a glance at Micah again. He’s offering to have me at his family barbecues?

Micah looks over and sends me a wink, those pretty eyes sparkling even in the shade.

Slowly, very slowly, I realize that he’s flirting with me. For the tiniest breath of a second, bubbly exhilaration fills me right before a deep, crushing doom weighs down on my chest, pressing the air out of it.

Flirting won’t work. Not this time. Gotta work harder than that, Micah. In fact, may as well choke me out till I die, because I’m not doing this again.

“I can take Princess,” I offer again, coldly. I need something to do, or I might just walk away from the money that’s going to pay for my dinner tomorrow.

“Okay! I’ll be right back!” Micah’s bouncing up and is gone before I can stop him.

As soon as he’s gone, it feels like I can breathe again. Like the crushing weight of despair has alleviated, and suddenly, the sun is brighter, Princess is soft against my fingers, and sounds of laughter carry over the yard.

Micah’s bubbly voice is back. “Here!” He hands me a plate with a cupcake covered in chocolate frosting and multicolored M&Ms. “These are my weakness. Chocolate on chocolate on chocolate? Sign me up.”

Micah’s voice starts tuning out, like I’m in a tunnel and he’s getting farther and farther away. For some reason, all I can do is stare at the M&Ms. They’re the little tiny ones, and now I’m kicked back into a memory, and I’m ten in the basement of my parents’ church.

It smells like mildew, and the screams of my siblings and the Sunday school kids echo around as they chase each other.

My starched collar itches the back of my neck, and I sit stiffly. Something about this place makes me feel like I’m being watched all the time. Like something or someone knows I’ve let my pets die and haven’t been able to save them. Like they know I’m a bad kid.

I try to make up for it by watching my siblings. I make sure they’re okay, that they get enough to eat, and that no one’s fighting with them.