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Mom peeked her head out of her room before she went to bed and furrowed her brows at my sobbing mess on the couch. “Are you going to be okay, sweetheart?” she asked, running her fingers through her wet black hair.
“I’ll be fine, Mom,” I sobbed, moving my fingers faster along the screen. With all the tears clouding my eyes, I could barely see my tiny-ass phone screen, but I continued writing because I had to get it out.
Before the night ended, I must’ve reread my writing five times. I wanted to put it out in the world, wanted someone to read it and to understand me, understand how I feared that I’d be another one of Blaise’s girls that he dumped ruthlessly, how I feared that I’d never be good enough for anyone—relationship-wise and writing-wise, how I … wrote about love all the time, but never believed I’d ever find someone to love me completely.
My blood was soaked into every one of these words. My worst fears. My insecurities.
Everything.
I hoped that someone could relate.
As my finger hovered over the Publishbutton, I shook my head and erased almost everything. Everything, except one rough, hard sex scene that I had written tonight to get out my anger and annoyance.
I wasn’t ready for people to read about the deepest part of me.
I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be ready for something like that.
ChapterTwenty-Seven
BLAISE
When I pulled up to the skatepark at fucking midnight, a handful of kids from the slums were there. The rain had cleared about an hour ago while I rode around Redwood aimlessly, waiting for Vera to call me, to tell me she hadn’t meant what she said.
But she never called, and I didn’t want to go back home. If I went home, I would do nothing but think about her in my parents’ big, empty house that they’d paid millions of dollars to not even fucking use.
I stepped out of the car and snatched my board out of the backseat, wanting to hurl my fucking fist into someone’s jaw tonight. I didn’t care who these motherfuckers were here. I wanted someone to hurt as bad as I was.
And I didn’t want that to be Vera. At least, not right now.
Because … I didn’t want to fuck up more than I already had. I didn’t want to lose her.
She was the only person who I fucking talked to, who I thought about, whose opinion I cared about anymore. My parents were assholes. All the other girls before her, like Skylar, had only wanted my dick, and then they dipped.
Vera … she … I hadn’t given her a chance to leave me. I had blackmailed her and hoped that she wouldn’t go anywhere. And for a couple days, she didn’t. Then, Skylar had fucked that all up.
I couldn’t lose Vera. I fucking couldn’t.
I balled my hands into fists.
And what the fuck did she mean when she blew up at me about not being myself at school? She didn’t fucking know shit about me. I was quiet all the fucking time—unless I wanted her attention. Did she want me to be an asshole to her? Was that what she liked?
Just as I tossed my board down, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I slipped my hand into my jeans and grasped it, hoping to the fucking Redwood gods that it was her. I didn’t even care if it was an emoji or a GIF or even the fucking wordsgood night. Something.
Instead of Vera’s name on my screen, Skylar popped up with about a hundred useless-as-fuck questions about when I wanted to see her. I hurled my skateboard at the concrete. “What the fuck does she not get?!”
She wasn’t the only one pissing me off either. That fucker João had purposely come into the library today, leaned closer to Vera, and told her that he’d see her tomorrow night.
What the hell did he want with her anyway?
Had she cut a deal with him or something?
João wasn’t someone a girl like Vera should associate herself with. It was bad fucking enough that she had gotten tangled with me. João and his gang were fucking worse.
In the skatepark, I spotted someone from the slums who João had been doingbusinesswith lately. Whether that business be selling him drugs or doing somethingmorefor him, I didn’t give a fuck. All I knew was that I wanted to fucking hurt him.
So, I did whatever the fuck I had to do to get on his every last nerve. And when he had enough of me, he kicked his board up and glared in my direction.
“Watch where you’re fucking going, Harleen. Your daddy doesn’t own the skatepark.”
