Page 2
He sighs resignedly, rolling off to flop onto the ground beside me. “My sister is an idiot. I told her she’d have to sneak it in, but she didn’t listen.”
“You think we could sneak in a duck?” I turn my head to look at him, sticking my thumbs through the holes in the sleeves of my shirt. “Keep it in your closet?”
“But then, where would you sleep?” He jokes, grinning again. The sight causes my chest to ache, and I glance away toward the stars.
“Probably in my own bed, like I should.” Even though the thought of going home tonight makes me nauseous.
“Hey, I was just messing around.” His face fills my vision as he moves over me again, thick brows pinched with worry.”You know I don’t mind sneaking you in every night.”
“Yeah?” I clear my throat, tracing his jawline with my eyes, unable to meet his gaze.
“Yeah. We take care of each other, remember? That’s the rule.” He pauses, pursing his lips. “But the closet would probably be better than waking up every day with your elbows in my face. Seriously, Xed, you take up a lot of room for someone so small.”
With a light shove, I push him away and fight a smile. “Shut up. I’m not sleeping in your closet with the spiders.”
“Fine, fine,” he laughs, cradling the sign I stole for him. “It’d be weird sleeping alone now since you’re always there.”
A knot forms in my stomach at his words, at the meaning between them, and I freeze as I watch him smile down at my gift. Like all his smiles, it’s crooked, thanks to a rogue softball when we were nine. This one, in particular, does something to me, though. It makes me feel things I can’t explain.
“Me too, Matty,” I murmur, pulling my sleeves down as we stand to head back home. “I’d miss sleeping next to you, too.”
Leaning my palm on the edge of the dresser in my room, I itch at the scars on my arm while I stare at myself in the mirror for a long time. Taking in my bloodshot gold-flecked eyes drowning in a sea of red. Dull strands of hair fall over one side of my scalp, unwashed and limp. Hollow cheeks. I can’t even remember the last time I was sober.
Behind my reflection, the bed I once shared with him mocks me, blankets twisted and sheets wrinkled. Empty and cold.
Twelve years of feeling his warmth beside me, and now I’m sleeping alone.
While he shares his life with someone else.
High School Senior Year
Chapter two
Sweat coats every inch of my body, chafing my arms beneath my shirt sleeves. The soft turf slaps under my feet as I push forward. Three other runners pant beside me, each gripping a baton, ready to pass it on. I love running, but I fucking hate track meets. Competing in any form? Hard pass. But it’s required, so here I am.
When I finally pass off my baton, my legs nearly give out. My heart pounds so hard I can feel it in my toes. From the stands, obnoxious voices call my name, and I heave a sigh when I spot Matty with Taylor and Christian, holding up a massive cardboard sign: Why are you running? Who’s chasing you?
Every. Damn. Meet. A new sign, no matter how many times I tell them to stop.
Wiping sweat from my forehead, I tell Coach I’m leaving before making my way toward my dumbass friends. Matty is in his football practice gear, just as sweaty as I am.
“How the hell are you wearing long sleeves right now, homie?” Christian shakes his head, his long brown hair falling over his shoulders. “I’m already dying in this heat, and I wasn’t even the one running.”
Matty and I exchange a look before I shrug. “Hardly having any hair helps. You’ve got a whole horse mane going on.”
“Don’t be jealous of my luscious locks.”
Taylor snickers, yanking his best friend into a headlock. “Careful. You might wake up bald one day. Don’t sleep with your eyes closed.”
“How the fuck else am I supposed to sleep?”
“You’re not. That’s the point.”
“Why didn’t you just say don’t go to sleep, then? What’s wrong with you, tonto?”
As they bicker, Matty steps up to slap me on the shoulder. “You did good out there, man.” He accidentally puts too much force into it, damn near knocking me over, and his strong hands grip my waist. “Shit, sorry.”
Poor guy doesn’t know his own strength.
