“What? No, it’s not!” I started, but Landon placed a hand in front of me to stop my words. It wasn’t fair, though. He was being attacked left and right for things he had no part in. He wasn’t the villain of this story; he was the hero. Yet everyone was showing up with pitchforks, chasing after him while shouting, “Kill the beast!”
Their hatred was misguided and misdirected. They should’ve been calling themselves out for being crappy parents.
“You need to leave this place,” Mr.Cole ordered Landon. “And you need to stay the hell away from our daughter. If I ever see you near her again, I will have the cops so far up your ass that you’ll never be able to come back to this town. Now go.”
“What’s the matter with you people?” I cried, feeling so angry for Landon. I couldn’t imagine what my brain would do if I had full-grown adults hollering at me about how terrible Iwas as a person. I wanted to rage for him. I wanted to defend him time and time again—every single second that a nasty comment was made toward him.
But he wouldn’t let me.
He refused to allow me into the murky waters to fight his battle.
“It’s OK, Shay. I’m fine. I’m going to go,” he whispered before turning toward Monica’s parents. “Mr. and Mrs.Cole, I am sorry for what you’re going through. I hope your daughter is OK. Again, I’m sorry... for everything.”
His voice cracked before he headed off toward the exit.
I went to hurry after him, and Monica’s mother gripped my arm, stopping me. “Let him go, girl. Isn’t it clear to you yet that he’s troubled? Don’t you see the damage he’s done?”
I ripped my arm away from her. “Don’t you see the damage you’ve done, Mrs.Cole?” I turned to the two adults who were acting more like children. “You’re all wrong about him. He’s not a monster; he’s not damaged... he’s good. He’s so good, kind, and gentle. Yet you all are so wrapped up in your fictional stories of who he is that you won’t even open your eyes to the truth.”
I hurried off in Landon’s direction, and when I spotted him, I was quick to call out to him.
He turned around slowly with his hands stuffed in his jeans pockets. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m coming with you.”
“No, Shay. You can’t. Didn’t you hear them? I’m no good for you. I’m no good for anyone.”
“Stop it. Don’t let that crap get in your head, Landon. They are wrong. They are beyond wrong. Don’t let them allow your mind to start spiraling. Let me come with you. Let me stay by your side.”
He cringed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t, Shay. Just give me time. I need to be alone to think.”
* * *
A few hours later, I rang Landon’s doorbell with nerves skyrocketing through my stomach as I waited for him to answer. I held a stack of three notebooks in my arms, pressing them against my chest. A sigh of relief rolled through my system when the door opened, and Landon stood there. He looked so weighed down.
“Hey, you.” I smiled softly. “Can I come in?”
He stepped to the side and cleared a pathway for me.
I walked into the house and said, “Monica’s doing OK. She’s staying in the hospital for forty-eight hours before being transferred to a rehab clinic.”
“Rehab?” he questioned. “Good. That’s good.”
“I think so, too.” I held the notebooks in his direction.
“What are these?”
“When I find interesting people, I write character portfolios for them. It’s a weird screenwriting game I play with myself. So, in your hands is the most in-depth character portfolio I’ve ever created. It’s you.”
“Me?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “You. After Lance’s funeral, I became curious about you. These notebooks are the things I said about you. I wrote them all down and filled out three notebooks with what and who I thought you were. I’d love you to read it.”
He brushed a finger under his nose. “Will you stay with me as I read through it? I just... my mind is doing crazy things right now, and I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
We moved to the couch and sat down. I pulled my knees into my chest and chewed on the collar of my shirt as he read the words I’d written about him. There were a few paragraphs that made him laugh out loud and others that made him almost tear up. Every word was filled with curiosity. With want. With desire. With respect.