about that kiss. Think about how you feel in here,” he presses a hand to my racing heart, “when I kiss you. Then think about how you feel when McGrady kisses you. If you can look me in the eye and tell me you feel the same when he touches you, then…” He exhales and shrugs. “Well, I guess I was wrong and we’re done here. You can go on with your life and your vigilante mission, and I won’t get in your way. But if you’re willing to be honest and admit that what we have can’t be replicated? Well…” He leans forward, slowly, carefully, and presses a gentle kiss to the corner of my lips. “You know how to find me.”
“Jamie, I…”
“I love you.”
Smiling, he places one last kiss on my cheek, then spins away and slams the back door open. He escapes without another word, leaves me leaning against the brick wall and barely able to stand on my own. He lets himself out the back gate and walks away.
Gone.
Into the distance, and away like he was never here.
I look down into my hand, at the watch I took straight from his wrist, and while I study it, fresh tears escape my eyes. When one plops on the screen, and splashes off, a torrent of tears spill over until I can do nothing but slide down the wall and sit on the cold concrete.
I pull my knees up, lay my face against my legs, and I cry. I cry for the boy who holds my heart, and I cry for the man who wants more of me. I cry because Evan kissed me, and even more because Jamie saw him do it. I cry for the injustices that have plagued my life, the lies that have imprisoned my brother, and the parents that we were given.
Junkies. Useless. Deadbeats.
Why were we given the Rodneys, when there are parents like Jim and Izzy Kincaid out in the world, offering cups of hot chocolate and squeezy hugs to their children whenever they want one?
When considering Will’s ‘scales of life,’ what possible infraction could we have committed before birth for us to be saddled with the parents we were given, which in turn meant we would run, which then would lead us to the dockyards where Will would eventually be accused of something he never did?
Why were our cards dealt so unfairly, when there are people like the Kincaids floating around, so full of love, and so willing to share it?
I know the answer, of course. If I got to keep Iz for a mom, Jimmy for a dad, Bobby and Aiden and the rest of them for uncles, then Jamie and his sister would have missed out. They might have gotten the junkies.
And that’s not a cross I’m willing to throw at someone else. That’s my lot in life to bear, the weight that will forevermore sit on my shoulders; it’s not something I would foist off onto someone I care about.
I remain sitting on the concrete for only ten minutes after Jamie walks out of my life. Ten minutes to cry, to mourn, to wish I could keep him all for myself.
Then I check the time on my newest watch. It’s time to get up, to clean my face, to shake off my pity party.
Because for girls like Quinn Eloise Wilson, the girl born just six blocks from here, who has never left this place except for a week in two consecutive years to visit a fight tournament, the luxury of self-pity doesn’t exist.
Like a shark, I must keep moving, otherwise… I die.
Part 4… Afterlife
Quinn
At four o’clock, I close and lock up my studio – or, well, the old butcher shop that I kind of stole – and fix my Ellie Solomon Dance Academy bag on my shoulder. I turn in the direction of my apartment, and though I’m usually in more of a rush, I move slowly today.
I still have a few hours before I have to be at Zeus’. I’ve already missed the live tutorial Sophia tends to put on the internet, and Will isn’t at home anyway, so I dawdle, kick rocks, and even smile at Joe as he stands behind his hotdog cart trying his damn best to offload food he cooked eight hours ago.
My stomach grumbles, but I’m not hungry.
It’s an odd sensation to know that my body is hungry, but not have a desire to eat. I think a trained professional might call