Regretting You (Blackthorn Elite #4) - J.L. Beck Page 0,47
I can start to try though.
“Okay, I’ll try, Mom.”
“That sounds wonderful, sweetheart.” I can see her smile in my mind, and I know she is happy about this. Happy that I’m taking the first steps of learning how to deal with Jillian’s death. “Why don’t you come home to visit next month?”
“Sure, why not. I’ll look at some dates and call you in a few days.”
“Great!”
“One more question… did you get Kennedy’s cell number while you were here?”
“Yes, why?”
“Can you send it to me? I want to talk to her.”
“Sure, I’ll send it right over. Please, be kind to her, Son. She blames herself enough, and even though you don’t want to believe it, she lost Jillian too.”
“I know, Mom.”
We say our I love yous and then hang up. Part of me feels the phone call was what I needed. I’m terrified of what will happen next, but this has to happen eventually. Being angry and bitter every day is killing me on the inside. Destroying the best parts of me. Jillian would kill me if she was here right now and saw the way I’ve been acting.
My thoughts of Kennedy swirl, and I wonder how I’m going to approach this with her. She’s my trigger in the big mess of things. Scrolling through my phone, I open my mom’s text and save Kennedy’s contact info. I’m tempted to go over to her place, but then I’ll want to fuck her, and I won’t get to say what I want. Plus, I’m not sure she is ready for sex yet, and I don’t want to push it. I’m going to do my best not to hurt her anymore. I don’t want to be the reason she continues to hurt herself.
So, I send her a text that says, hey.
Instantly, I get a reply.
K: Who is this?
I contemplate telling her that it’s Jackson, but I figure what I’m about to say is enough knowledge for her to get the hint.
Me: You can’t cut yourself anymore. If you do, I’m telling someone. I won’t let you hurt yourself anymore. Promise me you won’t.
I hit send before I can stop myself. I’m reaching that point where I want to just shut down and say fuck it, but this is part of moving on, and I can only deny that I care about her for so long. It’s time to face the music.
K: Promise.
Reading her single word text, I don’t trust that she really means it, so I send her another.
Me: On Jillian’s grave.
My phone dings, and I imagine she’s staring at her screen with the same conviction I am.
K: On Jillian’s grave.
Dropping the phone onto the mattress, I tip my head back into the pillows and let my mind wander. Maybe I can forgive Kennedy? Maybe I can let go of the pain? Or maybe I can’t? At the very least, I know Kennedy won’t be hurting herself anymore, and that’s the most important thing of all because if she ever killed herself because of me, I wouldn’t forgive myself. It’d be like losing Jillian all over again, and I doubt I could survive that.
20
Kennedy
Life seems to be headed in the right direction. For once, I feel like I’m not suffocating. Like I’m swimming back to the surface, instead of being dragged down deeper. The fact that Jackson isn’t doing everything in his power to make my life hell helps immensely.
We’ve come to this strange agreement that we aren’t quite friends, but we aren’t enemies either. Every day I see a little bit of the old Jackson returning. He smiles more, laughs, and seems as if he too is healing.
I still wait with bated breath for the other shoe to drop. How long is he going to keep up this act of caring before he snaps on me again? I keep hoping things will stay this way, and we can heal together, but I’m not stupid enough to believe that’ll happen.
As sad as it is, I’m wary of every little thing he does. I don’t understand how he flipped a switch, how he went from hating me so passionately to showing he cares in the blink of an eye. It’s not like he goes out of his way for me, but he also doesn’t actively try to make my life difficult anymore.
Descending the steps outside of my economics class, I find Jackson sitting casually against a bench. He looks ruggedly handsome in nothing more than jeans and a T-shirt. He’s surrounded by his friends,