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I'm not sure how long we stay like that, him providing gentle touches and soothing words while I snot all over him. Long enough for me to gas out, I guess. For my tear ducts to dry up. Until I manage to pull myself just a little bit together, uncurling my fists from where they're fisting his t-shirt and un-plastering myself from him.
Red-hot embarrassment creeping up my cheeks, I slump back, swiping my palms over my eyes. “Sorry,” I mumble, cringing at my raspy voice.
He dismisses my apology with a shake of his head. “What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Lu, c'mon.”
I tug my legs out of his grip, tucking them underneath me. Cautiously, he stands and sits beside me, a carefully calculated distance away.
“Luna, please. Tell me what's going on with you.” When I remain silent, he adds, in that soft, kind, fucking concerned voice, “I'm worried about you.”
“I never asked you to be.”
“That’s not how it works.” His head shakes, frustration brewing. “I just wanna help.”
“I didn’t ask for that either.” My hands rake through my hair as I stand again, arms spreading wide and gesturing at nothing. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”
“For what, for me?” Jackson challenges, rising too. “For me to love you? My sincerest fucking apologies.”
“This isn’t about you.”
“Then why am I the one that got hurt?”
“Yougot hurt?” A bitter laugh escapes me. “I met my dad. I met my fucking dad and it turns out he is just the asshole I thought he would be. Worse, actually, because I never imagined him having a pregnant wife. FormonthsI sat in a classroom staring at my father and I didn’t know. I befriended my fucking sister and I didn’t know. My parents are a pair of cheating liars andI didn’t knowso tell me again howyou’rethe one who got hurt.”
Jackson freezes. He tries so hard to stifle his reaction but complete and utter shock is hard to hide. I can practically see the cogs in his head turning, retracing the last year and slowly piecing everything together, and I see the exact moment it clicks. “Professor Jacobs?”
I nod, barely.
My name leaves his mouth on a long, breathy exhale and I bristle at the pity it holds. “Don’t.” I step back, hands outstretched like that could possibly keep him away. “It's fine. I'm fine.”
“You don't have to lie to me, Lu.”
My eyes squeeze shut again. There's a headache building behind them, and I don't know whether it's from crying or if it's because I'm just so fucking tired. “Okay. It's not fine.” I'm not fine. “It's fucked. It's so fucked up that it makes me sick thinking about.”
“That's why you have dinner at the Jacobs' house.”
“Yup.”
“And Pen is…”your sister.
“Uh-huh.”
“And that’s why-” Jackson cuts himself off, like he can’t bring himself to say it, and he doesn’t need to.
That’s why you broke up with me.
I hear it loud and clear.
My chest aches as I hum a yes.
“Jesus, Luna.” His voice drifts closer and I squeeze my eyes shut tighter. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I didn't tell anyone.”
“The girls don't know?” When I shake my head, I hear his sigh, feel his frown. “Why?”
