In the dream, I was finally brave enough to say it.
But here, in this nightmare of reality, I’ve lost the right.
There’s no going back now.
Not after I betrayed Caleb in the worst possible way.
And I can’t help wondering if maybe, deep down, some broken part of me really did want to burn it all down. To destroy the one good thing I’ve ever had before it could destroy me first.
I spin the dial on the water as hot as it will go.
TWO
June 2016
HARPER
Two months later,and Z and me have finally got some shit semi-together.
As in, we’re not sleeping at the shelter anymore—and the shelter had been a level up from the two weeks we spent sleeping in parks and avoiding cops while we were wait-listed for the shelter beds.
We leveled up again, getting really lucky when our boss at the taqueria where we wash dishes offered us one of the rooms she rents out at the back of her double-wide trailer. A much nicer trailer than anything back in Shelbyville, that’s for damn sure.
Dani has central air. Do you know how many times growing up I vowed I’d sell my own soul to be able to sleep with central air conditioning?
Z even managed to snatch a higher-paying job as a cook when Raul split in the middle of his shift a couple of weeks ago. Z always was quick at learning new things. He’s smart, but neverreallyappliedhimself to anything before. It’s like he’s got this whole new energy now that it’s finally us out on our own.
I’m having a little more difficulty with… enthusiasm.
Sure, my job’s far from glamorous, but I don’t mind it. After an hour-long bus ride each way, yeah, I get to bus tables and run the industrial dishwasher in a kitchen that’s hotter than Satan’s asshole during lunch rush.
But I don’t actually mind that much. The work keeps my hands busy and my brain blessedly empty.
Plus, I’m so fucking exhausted at night by the time I collapse into the narrow twin bed Z and I share, that I sleep like the dead.
Which is exactly what I need right now. To be dead to the world. Dead to memories of Caleb’s hands on my skin. Why didn’t I say it back when he said he loved me? Why the fuck couldn’t I just get it out of my mouth to say it fucking back?
Don’t think about it, Tucker.
I’ve made it clear to Z that whatever happened that night I got black out drunk… I’m just not ready for something like that again so soon.
Even if this is life now.
Us. Z and me against the world, just like we always planned.
I mean, I’m sure we’ll fuck again, eventually. Probably. Maybe even soon.
We’re basicallytogethernow.
I don’t know what I’m waiting for, since we’ve already crossed that line. I’m still just not ready for that kind of… physicality.Again, anyway.
For the most part, Z accepts it, even if I can see in the way he looks at me that it hurts him when I push him away.
And it’s especially difficult, considering we sleep in the same tiny bed since we can barely afford the one room to rent with both of us splitting the cost.
I offered to sleep on the floor.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Z said, and held up the sheet on the skinny mattress for me to get in with him. “We’ve always slept together. Peas in a pod, remember?”