wanted you to … see me like that.” I frown. “I feel like you always see me at my worst. I wish you could have known me. Before.”
Drew reaches beneath the blanket, pulls me onto his lap. “If your worst is a girl who hangs out with angels and convinces a hardened criminal to give up his drug-dealing ways just by being herself, by always keeping it real no matter how fucking messy things get, I’d say this Hannah’s pretty great.”
She’s a shell, I think. But if I said that, it would break his heart. So I don’t.
“Are you ever gonna kiss me?” I say instead.
I was the one who kissed him. He kissed me back, but still.
“You sure you want me to, after the other night? I kinda fucked that up.”
“Don’t be an idiot.”
“See? Keeping it real.” Drew smiles, and his eyes are playful and full of light.
He ducks his head toward mine, and his lips brush against my skin, soft and light, snowflake kisses that melt against me. So gentle. Careful.
“You won’t break me, Drew.” The hands resting against my cheeks tremble a little. “I’m stronger than you think.”
He swallows. “I … I know you are.”
I shift so that my legs straddle his hips, and that one movement unlocks something in Drew, whatever was holding him back. He lets out a low growl, pulls me close, crushes his lips against mine. This kiss is a homecoming, reminding me I’m not that girl shivering on the hospital bed, that my body isn’t always a traitor.This kiss does right by the miracle.
A new height. A new high.
I open, open, open to him, to his breath and lips and hands, to his tongue and his teeth and his skin. Drew kisses me like he wants to pull me inside him, his whole body fusing with mine, sending sparks of light all through me until I’m dizzy, like we’re on carnival swings that spin, faster and faster, higher and higher, and oh God, this new high feels so, so good. I ride this wave, let it take me all the way to the shore.
When he pulls away, my lips are swollen, and I’m covered with his scent, tea tree and cedar, like the inside of my mom’s hope chest, which we had to put in storage.
“You smell like hope,” I whisper against his lips. I can feel the blood fly under my face. “Sorry. That was weird. I just—”
He kisses me again. “So do you.”
I want to believe him. So badly.
The high of the kiss melts away, and then I feel it, just like the doctor said I would: the craving. More, I want more.
That kiss, so good, so perfect—but it wasn’t quite enough.
I need to feel … calibrated. Normal. Me. Just a little kick in my bloodstream to be me.
Drew reaches into his pocket. “I have one more diamond for you. Just one.”
I stare at him.
On the one hand: Oh, thank God, he knows me so well, he loves me, he has my back. On the other: I just got out of detox. He said he was sorry about the pills. What is he thinking?
“I don’t know if—” I start, but then the words, they don’t matter anymore. Whatever I was going to say doesn’t matter.
He holds up a velvet box. Not a pill bottle.
A bit of Yoko comes to me, slices right into my heart:
Each time we don’t say
what we want to say
we’re dying.
I want to say to Drew: You can’t save me.
I want to say: I wish it were a pill. I hate myself for that.
But I don’t. Because he keeps his eyes on mine as he opens the box. “It’s small.” His lips turn down a little, uncertain. “I hope that’s okay.”
Nestled inside the black velvet is a tiny teardrop diamond, just a sliver of sparkle, hanging from a thin gold chain. I know he spent everything he had on this. For me.
I die. For the fiftieth time this week. I die.
You can’t save me.
I’m not worth saving.
“It’s beautiful,” I say instead.
Drew leans his forehead against mine. “From now on, these are the only kinds of diamonds I will give you. I promise.”
I wish this was enough. That he was enough.
I wish I didn’t still want a pill.
“Hannah.” His voice is rough. “When … when I said I had a diamond for you. For a second, you seemed like…” His eyes fly to mine. “Would you have taken it? If it weren’t a necklace?”
My eyes fill. I nod.