Author: Cheryl McIntyre

I don’t get a chance to respond. Mr. Andrews takes me by the arm and it’s like déjà vu as he leads me away from Christian.

Chapter 41

Mason

Today sucks almost as badly as yesterday.

I know I’m making the right decision. I just wish I felt a little better about it.

Chapter 42

Hope

I get suspended. Obviously I don’t mind. My only regret is that I didn’t leave Adam bleeding like I had with Christian. Is it right? Nope. I’m thoroughly aware of this. I’m also aware that I’m having yet another realization about how terrible I am. I gave Mason shit for always using his fists when he freaks out. And guess what? Yep, I do the exact same thing. I hurt myself or I hurt other people. Not necessarily with fists, my method usually involves anything other than my actual hands, but the idea’s the same.

I don’t want to be like this.

I’m staring at my laptop, my hands shaking. I can’t remember the name of the site Guy told me about, so I Google self-harm help. 79,500,000 results. Not kidding. Guess Mason was right when he said I was normal. And that is so messed up that I close my screen and shove it away. Not the normal thing. I know he meant the way I deal with things is normal and that doesn’t bother me. But that so many people hurt themselves 79,500,000 results pop up in seconds.

Feeling alone isn’t new to me. I spent most of my childhood alone. Loneliness and I go way back. I just haven’t felt it much since meeting Mason. With 79,500,000 search results for self-harmers, I shouldn’t be feeling alone at all right now.

But I’ve never felt more alone.

How fucked up is it that I want to cut?

Not enough to stop me.

I start for my bathroom before I have to remind myself for the 79,500,000th time that Mason took my razors. I do an about face and head for the kitchen. A knife will work. I stare at the knife block, deciding on a small paring blade. I take several paper towels and head to my room.

I sit on my bed and put the blade to my skin.

I’m still sitting here when I hear the bus pull up in front of the house. I’m still sitting here when I hear the front door open and close. I’m still sitting here when I hear Misty and Dylan thudding around in the kitchen.

I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to be this. Not anymore.

I suck in a breath sharply and release it with a sob.

I only allow myself to cry for a few moments then I wipe my face with the paper towels and I take a deep breath.

If there was ever a time I needed a candy fix, it would be now. I’m talking heavy duty candy fix. Like Cow Tales and Sugar Daddy pops. Maybe even Pixie Stix.

Slipping the knife into my back pocket, I go down to the kitchen. “Hey,” I say to Dylan. “Where’s Misty?” I slide the knife back into its place, putting myself in the way of his view.

He shrugs. “Don’t know. I’m hungry.”

“She rode the bus home, right?” I ask as I take a sleeve of crackers from the box and open them.

“Yeah. She was crying.”

“What?” I freeze, nearly dropping the glass I pulled out of the dishwasher. “What do you mean she was crying?”

“She was crying.” He looks at me like I’m an idiot.

“Dylan, did she get hurt?” He shrugs again and I put the empty glass on the counter and go to find Misty.

Sniffling makes me pause in the hallway. I step into the living room. It takes me a second to find her, sitting on the floor, her back pressed to the back of the recliner. I lower myself to sit with her.

“What’s up? Why are you crying?”

She rolls her eyes and wipes a tear off her chin. “Why were you crying?”

That throws me off and I turn my head. “Just had a bad day. I got suspended again.”

Her brows crinkle and she wipes at her face. Her confusion pauses her tears and she shakes her head. “Why?”

I fold my legs in front of me and run my hands across my knees. “This dude was being a huge ass. I hit him with a book.” She laughs lightly and sniffles. “So, what’s up with the tears?”

Misty looks at me funny again and something in her expression causes my stomach to knot. “Didn’t Mason tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

No. No. No. No. No.

She pushes her blonde hair out of her face. “That they’re leaving?”

“Leaving?” My voice barely comes out.

No. No. No.

“They’re moving back to Illinois…” she trails off as new tears run down her pink cheeks. “He didn’t tell you?”

“When?” I choke.

She shakes her head slightly. “They leave by this weekend.” No. No. No. “Their mom already has a job and house lined up.” No. No. No. “She starts Monday. They have to be there by then—”

“Are you sure?” I’m screaming inside.

Misty huffs out a harsh laugh. “Positive. Kellin told me today. He said everything’s packed.” She cries harder and I know I should hug her, comfort her in some way, but I’m selfishly counting the pieces of my heart that lie on the floor around me.

One for every touch.

One for every kiss.

One for every time I told him I loved him.

Five for every time he told me.

“I have to go. Watch Dylan.” I don’t wait for her to reply. I’m out the door before I can think about what I’m doing.

I vaguely remember putting the car in park, but I have no recollection of the ten minute drive over to Mason’s. I stare at the door, summoning the strength to knock. But I know once I do, he’ll confirm he’s leaving.

Why didn’t he tell me? I knew something wasn’t right. I knew it and there is no consolation in being right this time.

I finally rap my knuckles against the peeling wood. I do it hard enough to feel a burn and scold myself for it.

There are certain things people remember better than others. Something that impacts them deep enough to ingrain itself into their memory forever. The look on Mason’s face when he opens the door is something I will never be able to forget as long as I live, no matter how long I try. It’s this mix of sadness, indecision, anger, shock, and guilt.

It’s all the confirmation I need. I take a startled step back and force myself to look past him. To see the piled boxes. The empty shelves built into the living room walls. I take another step back. Then another. I think I’m shaking my head because I don’t want to hear him say it. I can’t hear him tell me he’s leaving me just like I always knew he would.

I stumble to Neko and throw the door open. My head is dizzy and I can’t get a decent breath. This is where Mason usually comes in. He helps calm me. But he can’t this time.

Those days are done.

Oh shit.

Those days are done. Gone.

Mason blocks the door before I can close it. The sun reflects off the side mirror, momentarily blinding me. And all I can think is: how is the sun shining when my heart is breaking?

“Wait. Hope, wait.”

“No,” I whisper. “I have to go.”

“Please.” He grabs my arm and I can’t stand him touching me, but I want to melt into his hold at the same time. I am two people at war with each other. I want him so much, but I want to hurt him. I want him to feel the pain I’m feeling.

This. Is. Why.

The people you love most are the ones who hold the power to hurt you so completely.

This is why I told myself every day that I hated my mom. This is why I tried to stay away from relationships. This. Right now. I don’t want to feel this.

I yank my arm away from him and pull on the door. I need to go. I just need to go.

“Let me explain.”

“Explain what? That you lied to me? That you’ve been avoiding me? That you’re leaving and you had no intentions of telling me?”

“I was going to tell you about this. I just had to be sure first.” His eyes are pleading with me, crumbling what is left of my heart.

“Let. Go. Of. My. Door.” My voice is cold, emotionless, and he hears it. He drops to his knees in between me and the open door.

“I love you, Hope. I want us to work. I need us to work.”

“Move now or I will make you move.”

Mason lowers his head, shaking it quickly. “You need to listen to me.”

I slap him. I cannot believe I slap him and from the shocked, hurt in his eyes, he can’t either. A red outline of my hand glows across his cheek and he stands up, moving away from Neko.

“You know where I am when you’re ready to listen.”

“For now. Who knows where you’ll be tomorrow,” I murmur as I pull the door closed. He locks his fingers on top of his head, watching me as I drive away.

Chapter 43

Mason

I’m not certain how long I stand in the driveway waiting for Hope to come back, but it’s starting to get dark before I figure out that she isn’t going to. She wouldn’t listen. She wouldn’t give me the chance to explain.

I should have made her listen. I should have told her yesterday.

I stare down at the ground with my hands on my hips. Doesn’t she understand this has been the hardest decision I have ever had to make in my life?

I’m not going to let her end it just because she feels abandoned and betrayed. Everything I’ve worked out has been for us. To make sure I don’t lose her.

I can’t leave until she understands.

Chapter 44

Hope

Annie breezes into the room like she doesn’t have a care in the world. I look up from my pillow and watch her flip through the hangers in the closet. I kind of hate her right now. She thinks my life is so easy. Yeah. It’s great.

She turns around and meets my gaze. “What?”

I blink slowly and bury my face back into the comfort of my pillow. It smells like Mason and I’m not too proud to admit that I’m trying to soak up every bit of his scent.

“I’m sorry, Hope. I don’t know how many times I have to say it. I’m sorry I told people about your mom. I’m sorry I said Guy’s accident was your fault. I mean, it was an accident. Right? It just happened.” I hear her feet brushing against the carpet as she moves closer. The bed dips as she perches beside me. “I was scared. I said things I didn’t mean. And that stuff I said about you… When you first came to live with us, it was weird. Mom just married Alec. I had three step siblings and another dad. Things had already changed so much and then you were there. I had to share my room and everyone was tiptoeing around you like you were this fragile little thing. But I could see you were stronger than they were giving you credit for. I could barely breathe in this new life, but you came here like it was just any other day to you. I hated you for that. I was so jealous.”

I roll over so I can see her. I don’t know what to think yet. That was a horrible time. What she just said, about not being able to breathe in her new life, that was exactly how I felt. It’s how I feel all the time. She could be describing me.

“You know, Annie, we’re not so different.”

She cocks a perfectly plucked brow. “We couldn’t be more different if we tried.”

I sit up and look at her. Really look at her. “What did Christian do to you?”

Annie diverts her eyes. Her hands open and close several times in her lap. “It’s not like you think,” she says finally. “I wanted to. He asked and I was more than willing. I’ve liked him forever and I thought he liked me.” She pauses and rests her eyes on me. “He didn’t rape me. We had sex in the back of his car. I thought we were together. Ya know? I thought he was my boyfriend.

“Did you know he has a girlfriend?” She goes on before I can answer. “Because I didn’t. She’s away at college. I don’t know what I was thinking. Like what? He would be mine because I gave him my virginity? God, he made it crystal clear I was nothing more than a “pump”. I didn’t even know what it meant. He had to explain it to me.”