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I stand up, take his hand, and lead us to his room, where we climb into bed, our arms wrapped around each other, my face on his chest, his hands in my hair and our hearts beating as one again.
“I love you, baby,” he whispers, kissing the top of my head.
“I love you, too.”
â??â??â??
For the next few days, things go back to normal. Or at least a version of normal that’s enough to not make me sink into myself. Josh works and some nights he leaves and skates for a few hours, or at least that’s what he tells me. Of course I wonder. Every insecure part of me questions what he’s doing, who he’s with… if there’s someone else he’s seeing. And then I remember what he said and I know it can’t be true.
Right?
Josh’s truck pulls in and the second Tommy’s free he comes charging up to me waiting on the porch steps with my camera ready. I told him we’d spend the evening taking pictures—all of him.
He’s such a little poser.
He sits down next to me—his hand on my leg. “What doing?”
“Just clearing some space on my card so I can get more photos of you. Hey…” I face him. “I’m pretty sure Grams has a new costume for you.”
His eyes light up. “Wardrobe change?”
“Yeah, bud. Go inside. We’ve been waiting for you to get home.”
He’s up and on his feet in no time, opening the door and shouting, “Ma’am” right before the door slams shut.
I look up at Josh who’s standing by the mailbox; he’s looking at a letter, his eyebrows drawn. Slowly, he looks at me, his lips pressed tight.
I stand up nervously and wait for him to make his way over to me. “You got a letter,” he says, handing it to me.
The Washington University logo is the first thing I see and I can’t help but smile.
“St. Louis?” he asks.
My smile drops when I look back up at him.
He’s angry again.
“You never mentioned a word about it before. Is that—I mean, are you going there?”
“It’s complicated,” I tell him, my voice cracking. “It’s still kind of… up in the air at the moment.”
His eyes thin to slits. “So that’s what this is? You take a year off before college, live with your grandmother, fuck some guy because it’s convenient and then take off?”
“What? Josh. No.”
“Then what is it, Becs? You didn’t think it was important to bring this up?”
“It wasn’t confirmed… and you knew, right? You knew I wasn’t staying here forever.”
He crosses his arms, his head moving from side to side while he stares me down. “I’ve let you keep your secrets. I’ve held you through your bullshit nightmares—”
“Josh!” I indicate to the front door, hoping Grams can’t hear this conversation. I don’t want her hearing how he’s talking to me. That he’s pushing me down. Making me weak.
He lowers his voice. “You should’ve fucking told me, Becca. You should have at least given me that.”
“Yeah, well you also told me to tell you if you were hurting me. And you are.”
“Yeah!” He’s back to yelling now. “And I also fucking begged you not to leave me. Yet here you are, Becs, leaving me.”
“What’s going on?” Grams snaps from behind me. I stare at Josh. He stares back. Neither speaking. Then his phone rings, breaking the silence. He shoves his hand in his pocket and pulls it out, then turns away from me when he must see who’s calling. Tommy’s next to me now, dressed in his cowboy outfit Grams had bought him.
“I have to go,” Josh says, walking backward to his truck. “I’ll be back soon. Can you watch Tommy?”
I nod, even though I’m angry and hurt and blink away the tears before looking over at Tommy with the fakest smile I’ve ever had to fake before. “You ready, Cowboy?”
22
-Joshua-
“So there’s nothing else we can do?” I ask the doctor while my mom sits next to me, her head bent, her shoulders shaking with each sob.
“No,” the doctor says. “Unfortunately not.”
I look at my mom. “Sorry,” I tell her, because I don’t really know what else to say in this situation.
Mom says, “Thank you for trying, Joshua. I appreciate it.”
“Is he here? In the hospital, I mean.”
Doc stands up, pushing his chair behind him. “I’ll give you a moment,” he tells us. “I have another appointment in ten minutes though.”
I nod.
My mom waits until he’s left before partially turning to me. “He is. But he doesn’t want to see you.”
“What?”
“You know him, Josh. He’s too proud for his own good. It has nothing to do with you.”
“That’s bullshit, Mom.”
She cringes. “I know. And please remember—this stays between us.”
-Becca-
When you spend your whole life faking happiness, it becomes a second emotion. Somewhere between fine and anger and hurt and content and satisfied. But really, it’s just feeling numb, only you carry a smile with it.
I answer the knock on my bedroom door. Grams looks over my shoulder at Tommy playing with his blocks on the floor. “I’m going to Bingo.” She smiles sadly and places her hand on my cheek. “Are you going to be okay?”
