Page 118 of Striking Range

How did he find this? Juvenile court doesn’t publicize its cases, and my family made sure to keep things hushed. They even made a deal with Jerome’s family before they moved to assure their secrecy. So how?

“So you went to juvie?” Henry asks, taking in the title of the document. “That’s what he has over you?”

I can feel the weight of Everett’s gaze on me, but I cannot tear my blurry eyes from the papers. The life I have so carefully created for myself through years of work is crumbling around me, and I can’t breathe.

“Not Ev,” Kelly says softly. “Sky.”

“Skylar went to juvie?” Henry nearly shouts.

“Almost.” It leaves me as a hushed gasp, a shameful admission. “I…”

But I can’t explain. The part of me that is screaming to be understood is overshadowing the part of me that can give them the facts. It’s a paradox in its own form.

“Oh. How does that hurt Everett?”

“You are such a moron,” Kelly sneers. “Clearly his dad is threatening to ruin Skylar’s life by revealing this, and it’s working because Ev loves him.”

Love. Ev loves him.

Everett says nothing as Kelly and Henry bicker. I still cannot face him.

“What did you do, Sky? Petty theft?” said moron grills.

“I… Well, I…” Harsh, heavy breaths leave me. I think I might be hyperventilating as I try to explain.

“Sky,” Everett calls out, taking a step to round the bed.

I stumble backward, creating some distance. What if he gets too close, and as I reach for him, he flinches? I wouldn’t be able to stomach that. I can’t even stomach this.

“I almost killed him,” I whisper, my hands cupping the space before me to catch my falling tears. “He called me a faggot, and I nearly killed him.”

“Oh, shit,” Henry mutters.

“B-but I was young,” I rush out, finally feeling my heartbeat as it pulses through my veins at an incredible speed. I look between Kelly and Henry in a panic. “I was just a kid, and I had—well, have—bad anger problems, and I just blacked out. I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t mean to put him in a coma.”

Kelly gasps, a hand rising to cover her mouth.

“Once I came to, the police were there, and everything just happened too fast. One moment he was spitting in my face and the next he was so bloody I couldn’t even make out who he was anymore. But please, please don’t hate me. I didn’t… I wouldn’t… I’m so sorry.”

The word vomit rips at my throat, causing my voice to become hoarse and my nose to run. I have never felt this guilty, not even in court. I’m not used to feeling insecure or judged, and right now I can feel both so heavily that I’m crushed under the weight.

Neither of my friends speaks, only staring at me with wide eyes and open mouths.

They hate me.

I am the monster the world once said I was, and nothing I do or have done will change that.

I’m trembling, panting as I back away another step. And then another.

“Skylar.” Everett’s voice penetrates my panic, causing my gaze to finally snap to his.

He’s staring at me so softly, so reverently, that I begin to actually cry. A sob breaks free, and I slap a hand over my mouth to stifle it.

“I’m sorry,” I push out around the barrier pressed to my lips.

“Don’t,” he interjects, rounding the bed once more. “Don’t apologize to me. There’s no need.”

So he’s done. There is no need to apologize because he no longer wants to offer his forgiveness.