Year 28 - J.L. Mac Page 0,91

of, as I suspect you do, you need to know that as your momma, I’ll carry that hurt with you. I’d carry it all if I could, but I can’t,” her voice quivers for a moment while my entire body quakes with sobs I won’t lend a voice to. “So the next best thing is for you to share your burden with your old momma and give me a chance to feel useful,” she laughs, a small, sad sound that chips at my walls. “You can’t carry on this way. I want my girl back. Let me try to help,” she pleads, squeezing my hands in hers. Her blue eyes shine with tears, her brow in wrinkled in distress and it takes a brick of plastic explosive to the barricade guarding my hideous truth from the world.

I was so worried going home would result in Sylas uncovering my ugly truth. I never saw my mom coming in from left field like a boss. My inner circle collectively give a nod of respect. She’s right about several things, I can’t keep living this way, and she is definitely a fucking superhero.

Raegan

17 years old

After seeing Sylas with Brooklyn in his Jeep I find that I am actually thankful that I’m working double shifts this entire weekend. I’m hoping two and a half full days will give me enough time to calm down and figure out where I stand with Sylas. Part of me wants to hate him for turning to Brooklyn so quickly—and I do hate that he has obviously turned to her but most of me can’t bear the idea of being without him as my best friend and boyfriend. Still, the mental image of Sylas with someone else today is vivid and stinging and the worst of it is the fact that I was so easily replaced when the idea of replacing Sylas seems unthinkable. Did I mean so little? Is the joke on me? Am I the punch line? I spend my entire shift thinking of all the possible scenarios that could play out. Maybe we will get back together. Maybe I can make a long distance thing with him work. Maybe… we are truly over. In which case I plan to move as far away as I can and throw myself into my studies.

My evening shift at the grocery store flies by thanks to me being a zombie the whole time. I’ve been so lost in thought I haven’t had a moment to count the minutes like I normally would. Like Sy would. Most shifts Sylas texts me with a countdown to when I am off work and free to see him. My phone has been silent though. Not a single text message or phone call from him has come through and I wonder if it’s because he’s angry with me or if he doesn’t care enough to seek me out in the first place. I flip the switch to darken my lane and go about cashing out for the night. I slide my till drawer across the office counter to Derek and turn to leave just to see Josh lingering outside the office door.

“Hey Josh,” I mutter as I move to walk past him.

“Hey, Raegan. I uh, listen I hate to ask, but I don’t have a ride home tonight and Derek said you live pretty close to the house we just rented. Could I bum a ride?”

“Oh. Um—” I shift my weight, leaning my back against the wall. The mention of someone else in my car where Sylas usually rides makes hives crawl beneath my skin but then the memory of seeing Brooklyn in Sy’s Jeep chases away any of that nonsense. What’s the point in saving Sylas a seat he doesn’t seem to want, anyway?

“Totally cool if you don’t want to or can’t. My mom will be done with her shift at midnight and I could get her to come pick me up.” He rushes out.

“Midnight? It’s only ten,” I say dumbly. Josh shrugs and smiles. I study his face—he has a nice face—and decide to say screw it. Sylas isn’t the only one who can so quickly pile someone else into his shotgun seat.

“I don’t mind at all,” I say forcing a smile that feels out of place on my lips.

“Great,” he smiles fully, and it’s a great smile but somehow I can’t make myself like it.

The shifter clicks into park and I hit the unlock button to let Josh out of my car