“I love you, I love you,” I replied.
Mom called Greyson to come sit with me until it was time for me to head to the airport. Greyson called Hank. Hank came with Raine.
I climbed down the diving board, and the three of them wrapped their arms around me and held on to me so tight. I cried into their arms like a fucking child, but they didn’t mock me or laugh at my weakness.
They simply held on stronger.
It blew my mind how people unrelated to me could still be my brothers and sisters. Maybe not by blood, but by heart. Something had to be said about friends who never left your side, even when your storm was wild enough to strike their souls, too.
“I’m sorry I’m so fucked up, you guys,” I sniffled, feeling embarrassed by my breakdown.
“Hey, man.” Greyson patted me on the back. “Whatever you are is good enough for us.”
I didn’t deserve them. I didn’t deserve their love.
But still, they gave it freely.
30Shay
“Landon had to leave town for a while, sweetheart,” Mima said after she returned from his place. I was glad that my grandmother checked in on him every Sunday. I had a feeling he needed it a lot that afternoon.
“Is he OK?” I asked, worried after not hearing from him. It wasn’t like him to not check in.
“He is. His mother texted me that he’s going to stay in Los Angeles with her for a while.”
A while? How long was a while?
“But he asked me to give you this letter,” Mima said. She handed me a folded piece of paper.
“He’s really broken, isn’t he, Mima?”
“Oh, honey... we’re all a little broken. If you think anyone in this world doesn’t have cracks, scars, and a story, then you’re not looking close enough. We weren’t brought into this world to be perfect; we were brought here to be human. And with that comes a few broken parts. You don’t have to be perfect to love or be loved. You just have to be brave enough to show the world your scars and call them beautiful.”
“I love him.”
“Yes, and once you read that letter, I think it will be pretty clear that he loves you, too.”
She left me alone with the pages. I walked over to the couch, sat down, and as I crossed my legs, began reading Landon’s mind.
Chick,
Reading that word was enough to make my chest tighten with nerves. I pushed myself to continue even though I was afraid of what was coming next. Afraid of what his words would tell me, afraid of what his truths would reveal.
I hate myself, and that’s my truth.
Each day, I wake up and wonder why I’m here. Why I’m fighting when everything feels hopeless. I wonder what the point is, and that scares me. I struggle to get out of bed, to exist in a way that looks normal to others. When we first began our bet, you told me that I was fake, and that’s the truest thing I’ve ever been called.
I am fake.
I fake being popular.
I fake loving parties.
I fake being content with life.
I fake fitting in.
I am fake through every fiber of my soul—except for a small corner that’s real solely for you.