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“Nothing is wrong with you, Bria.” I feel a pain soar through my chest. “You’re…perfect.”
She is everything that anyone could ever ask for. And I’m not going to be the monster in her story.
As I pull back, looking down at her, she gazes up at me. Even in the darkness, I see the tears in her eyes.
“Then, why can’t you love me back?” She sniffles. “Why don’t you want me?”
Dropping my forehead to hers, I close my eyes. “It’s not about wanting you, Bria. Because if that was the only thing that mattered, I would have never left that night. I’m no good for you. I’m no good for anyone.” I swallow. “You’ve been through so much already. I’m not about to fuck you up more.”
“But you’re all I want.” She cries against my neck, slurring her words. “I love you. Why can’t you just love me back?”
Not knowing what to say and not having any kind of answer, I just continue to hug her. “I’m sorry,” I mutter. “I’m so sorry.”
“The car is spinning.” She throws her head back suddenly. “I don’t feel good.”
Quickly, I pull her seat belt around her, clicking it in. “Let’s get you home, babe,” I tell her before closing the door and jogging to the driver’s side.
She’s going to be sick. That’s unavoidable. The least I can do is make sure she’s home when she is.
She heaves, hugging the toilet bowl like her life depends on it. Finally, her body gives her a break, and I grab the hairbrush, fixing her hair for the second time. She needs a shower—that’s pretty obvious. But the least I can do is make sure she doesn’t get puke in her hair before then.
Brushing it softly, I make sure to get all the pieces before tying it in a low ponytail. It’s not perfect—I’ve never had to do this shit before—but it’s better than nothing.
Wetting a washcloth, I pat her face down. “Do you want to try to lie down for a while? I could bring a trash can into your room.” I talk quietly, knowing her head must be aching.
She doesn’t look at me, and her eyes are barely cracked open. But she gives me the smallest nod and attempts to stand. Before her drunk body has the chance to smash into the wall, I grab her. Lifting her up, I carry her in my arms to her room. The motion of walking instantly makes her pass out, and she snores softly in my arms.
With my footsteps up the stairs, I hear commotion in Tate’s room just before she cracks the door open.
Taking in the sight of me carrying Bria, she gives me a sad smile. “Rough night?”
“For this one, it was,” I say, looking down at Bria’s angelic face before my eyes move back to Tate.
“She snuck out when I ran to class.” She leans against her doorframe. “I overheard her talking to her mom on the phone last night. It would have been her dad’s birthday today.”
Tate’s eyes find mine. “You’ll stay with her?”
Glancing down again, I swallow. “For a little while. But trust me, she won’t remember this tomorrow. And you can’t tell her I was here either. It’s for the best.” Taking a few steps forward, I look back at Tate. “In the morning, she’s not going to feel good. Can you just…you know, look after her?” I sigh. “Make sure she’s okay?”
I know I’m not only talking about in the morning. I’m talking about from here on out. She’s going to need someone.
“She’ll be just fine,” Tate whispers. “She’s tough.”
A lump forms in my throat. “She shouldn’t always have to be though.”
Walking to her room, I set her down gently before pulling the covers over her. And when I start to step back, she grabs my hand.
“Stay,” she barely croaks. “Just…hold me for a little while.”
Inhaling, I drag my free hand down the back of my neck before taking my shoes off and climbing in next to her. I pull her against me and hold on to her tightly.
I hold on to her stronger than I’ve ever held on to anything. For a little while anyway.
23
Bria
Ifeel like shit. And I look like death warmed over—twice. The big bags under my eyes are not very becoming. Neither is my pasty-ass skin.
