Total pages in book: 165
Estimated words: 159976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
I fight to find my words, but she sees me staring and meets my eyes briefly. “I mean, we said we’d keep this casual, right?” she says, letting out a laugh. “The date last weekend was enough risk for a while, I think.”
Enough risk…
Why won’t she look at me? Maybe I can stand being a secret for a little while longer, but I don’t like this distance that’s there all of a sudden. I’m not just some fuck.
I turn and take my phone out of my locker, grabbing my earbuds, too. “I like spending time with you outside of bed too, Clay.”
But she doesn’t want that. Or she’s not ready to admit it.
She reaches for me. “Liv…”
“Just forget it.” I move aside and close my locker. “Macon was right. He always is. I’m the stupid one.”
She slams her locker and moves past me, murmuring, “Meet me in the shower now.”
“No,” I tell her. “I’m over it.”
I’m not doing this anymore. Shit’s changed. I want to go to prom, and I want to go with my fucking girlfriend. That’s it.
I walk the other direction, but someone slips in front of me, cutting me off. “Hi,” Chloe chirps, carrying her bag and smiling as she looks me up and down. “You’re right. Black is your color.”
I force a tight smile as Clay tries to hide her snarl. “Thanks,” I say to her.
She moves past us to the next row and Clay comes in close. “I don’t want to lose you, okay?” she whispers. “Just give me a chance. I’m just not ready yet. I’m not sure. What if this isn’t real? What if it’s—”
I grab her by the arms and back her into the lockers, the metal clanking echoing throughout the room. She gasps as I glare at her, my teeth damn near bared.
Someone comes around the corner, and I look at Ruby. “Beat it.”
She looks quickly between Clay and me, ultimately deciding to not get involved before she ducks back out of sight. I press my palm to Clay’s chest, feeling the rapid beat inside. “When your heart beats too fast,” I grit out, “it doesn’t pump enough blood to the rest of your body. It starves your organs, making you lightheaded, unable to breathe, dizzy, weak, you can’t think…” I dive into her, pressing my forehead to hers. “I do that to you. Not him. I’m real.”
I release her, backing away and waiting. Waiting for anything. Waiting for a yes. A no. Waiting for her to realize that she loves her life with me in it, and the fact that she’s willing to sacrifice how good this feels breaks my heart.
She stands there, her chin trembling as she stares down at nothing, agony written all over her face. “I can’t…” she mouths before finding her voice. “I can’t tell my parents that I’m gay. I can’t ever tell them that. They won’t see me the same way anymore. I’ll disappoint them.”
Pains wracks my body as she goes blurry in my vision. “You don’t have to tell them you’re gay,” I whisper. “You just have to tell them that you’re in love with me.”
Please. I understand how scary it is to change things. To fear being seen differently in the eyes of the people you love.
But she will regret not taking this chance. She may lose me, but she will never stop who she really is, and someday it will be too much to hide anymore.
“Just take my hand,” I murmur. “Please take my hand.”
But slowly, she shakes her head, tears spilling down her face as she backs away.
I take a step. “Clay…”
She shakes her head, backing up more and more.
“Clay, don’t do this.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, wiping her tears.
And I lose it. I slam my hand into the lockers, on fire. “Goddamn you,” I growl. “Goddammit! I told you to stay away from me, didn’t I? I told you to leave me alone!”
I knew this would happen. I always knew she was a cunt.
She sobs, and I get in her face. “Why didn’t you just leave me alone, huh?”
But I don’t give her a chance to answer. I step around her, exit the locker room, and run through the still-empty school until I’m out of the building and a mile away in minutes. My lungs give out, I pant, and halt, hunching over as I try to breathe and stop the tears.
• • •
Hours later, my eyes still burn.
But I’ve stopped crying. I can’t believe I did at all.
“Heart Heart Head” plays as I dip one pearl after another into the glue and stick each to the bodice. Lavinia is running an errand in Miami today, so the shop is closed, the music’s on low in the workroom, and I’m alone. And thankful for it. I didn’t want to go home right after school, and I’m not in the mood to have to talk to customers. I hadn’t turned on the lights when I came in after school. I still wear my sunglasses. I don’t want to see too much.