sleep while Melanie was in class.
“Fine,” he said stiffly as he got out of bed. I carefully averted my eyes from his too beautiful form as he disappeared into the bathroom.
I grabbed my crutches that Jackson had brought in while I was asleep, and hobbled into the hallway, looking for another bathroom, found one, and then promptly gasped when I saw myself in the mirror. My eyes looked like a raccoon’s, and my hair looked like squirrels had taken up residence in it.
I can’t believe Jackson actually kissed me looking like this…
I felt around the back of my head and neck to see how it was faring, and winced when I happened upon a particularly sensitive area.
I felt pretty pathetic in that moment. The woman staring back at me in the mirror looked haunted, exhausted…hopeless.
Is this how it would be forever?
My thoughts drifted to that feeling of terror as I’d begun to fall down the stairs. In the light of day, it didn’t seem as clear that someone had pushed me on purpose as it had last night. Was I just being paranoid? The house had been crowded after all.
And what did it mean for me if it had been on purpose? Who was targeting me?
“Everly?!” Jackson’s voice sounded down the hallway. It was a little panicked.
I took a deep breath and crutched my way out of the bathroom. “I’m right here,” I called out, and he appeared around the corner, looking relieved to see me.
“You shouldn’t have gotten up without me,” he scolded me. I just rolled my eyes. I’d had to do a lot of hard things without him. This was easy compared to those things.
Jackson helped me back down the hallway, and I actually paid attention to his place this time. Everything was decorated in muted greys and blacks. It was austere…perfectly neat. Everything looked like it had been placed there on purpose.
It looked more like a museum than a home. Although saying that…what did I know about a home?
“Nice place,” I commented as he opened the garage door for us to leave.
“Yeah,” he grunted, evidently back to responding to me in monosyllables, even after what we’d shared last night.
He helped me into his truck, and then we were off, heading back to campus.
We went through a coffee shop drive-through, and before I could give him my order, he told the barista my exact drink.
It was so bad how happy it made me that he still remembered that detail. So bad.
The barista handed him our drinks, and he gave me mine nonchalantly, as if I wasn’t having a freak-out in the passenger seat next to him.
We continued to drive quietly.
“Do you still journal?” he suddenly asked.
It was a really random thing for him to say. “Um yeah, every day, just like always,” I responded quietly, thinking about the spot under my bed where I’d moved them to after keeping them in my car for the first part of the semester.
He nodded, evidently not having anything for follow-up.
We pulled to the front of my dorm, and he shut off the truck and proceeded to open his door.
“What are you doing?” I asked, panicking for some reason.
“Helping you inside of course.”
“I don’t need your help,” I spat at him, irrationally angry, even as I hung on to the coffee he’d just purchased for me so perfectly.
“Why are you fighting me so hard?” he snarled, turning towards me.
I gaped at him. “What part of ‘we’re done’ did you not hear?”
“We’re never going to be done. It doesn’t matter what you say. You’re poison, but even if I have to die to taste you, that’s what I’ll do.”
I laughed bitterly, even as his words did something crazy to my insides.
“And what about your brother?” I goaded him.
“What about my brother, are you going to start sleeping with him again?”
My face paled as we just stared at each other. The words hovering in the air between us, highlighting the damage and broken shards that was our relationship in glowing letters that couldn’t be ignored.
“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling at his hair. I took a deep, quivering breath and then opened the truck door, practically falling out as I tried to balance my crutches and my coffee.
He got out of the truck and hurried after me as I clumsily made my way up the dorm steps, inside, and up to my room.
I was sweating by the time we got up there, my head throbbing like someone had taken drum sticks to it.
My hands shook