“So you’ll walk away from us. You’ll walk away from this.” He lifts our joint hands in the air. “Because you’re afraid of having hope? You’re afraid of how it’ll turn out?”
I suck in my trembling bottom lip. I won’t cry. I won’t. “If it hurts this much now, how much will it hurt later? I’m sorry, but I can’t. If everything crumbles, you have something to return to. Friends, a family. I don’t have anything.”
Using my chin, I gesture to the apartments. “It’s a matter of time before Joss throws me out and then I don’t know what I’m going to do. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll land on my feet, but I can’t take care of myself if I end up with a broken heart. Love is dangerous. It’s just as bad as hope. This is the way life is for me. I have to accept it.”
My insides, they’re breaking, because I like him. Possibly more than like, but it’s the more that forces me to lay my other hand on the handle and crack the door open. “Thank you, Jonah.”
He lowers his head at the break in my voice. I ignore the moisture in his eyes and I pretend that mine don’t sting.
“For what?” he whispers.
“For showing me that people can change. Even if it is one person out of a million.”
I tug once on my hand. He doesn’t give. I yank a second time and I swear his hold tightens. I pray for numbness, but I’m consumed by pain. In a quick motion, I lean over the console and kiss his cheek. I close my eyes when his rough evening stubble sweetly scratches my face. I’ll miss him. I’ll miss him so much.
Jonah turns toward me and I take advantage of his weakened grip to bolt out of the car.
I run fast. I run far. I run in the hopes that nothing will ever catch up.
23
Jonah
I’ve walked into this school hundreds of times, but this time it’s different. It’s because I’m different and I’m never going back to who I used to be.
With my books and notebooks in one hand, I strut down the middle of the hallway, scanning for two specific people. By the end of today, I’ll either have failed, succeeded or done a little of both, and I’ll possibly have been suspended.
I’m good with any of those options—as long as I get Stella back in my life.
At the corner of the senior hallway, I spot two people, and one has his hand on the waist of someone he should be easily eight feet away from. I intended to talk to him alone, but I don’t mind having an audience. Dropping onah one my books to the floor, I grab Cooper by the collar of his shirt and slam him into the locker.
“Jonah!” my sister yells, but she can keep shouting. I’m not letting go.
“Call Stella ‘Trash Can Girl’ again and I’ll beat the hell out of you. In fact, call her or anyone else anything ever again and I’ll do the same. I’m done saying nothing. I’m done letting you treat people like crap. Do you hear me?”
Cooper’s eyes widen to the point that they threaten to fall out. “Let me go, Jonah.”
I have to work each muscle to force my fingers to release and when I do, Cooper sags against the lockers, but his voice contains violence. “I thought we were friends.”
“So did I. In fact, for years I thought you were a man, but you’re not. A man wouldn’t treat anyone the way you treat other people.”
He smoothes out his shirt and glares. “You’re the one destroying this. You’re the one throwing everything away over a girl.”
“You knew Stella meant something to me weeks ago. That’s why you began riding her again. A real friend wouldn’t have done that. A real friend would have welcomed her. And a real friend...” I lean into him. “Wouldn’t be trying to get into my sister’s pants.”
“Jonah!” Martha shout-whispers. She glances around. People keep walking, but they’re gaping. It’s obvious things aren’t okay, but our voices are low enough that we could be fighting about the weather.
I round on her. “I can’t stop you from seeing him. You’re so stubborn you’ll do what you want, but he hurts people. He hurts girls. I can give you a list a mile long and tell you each line he gave to them that he’s probably giving to you, too.”
Cooper shrinks under my stare and I soften my voice when I talk to Martha again. “I wish you wouldn’t, but I can’t stop you.”
The pure menace radiating from my younger sister is undeniable. She can hate me, but I need her to know that she has what Stella never did: a place to fall. “And if he hurts you or if anyone else hurts you...you have me.”
It feels unnatural, but I hug my sister. Her arms are limp at her sides, but she doesn’t push me away.
“Remember, you have me,” I repeat.
Martha slowly wraps her arms around my waist, reminding me of the conversation we had weeks ago in the driveway at home. “I was so scared that you had died that night.”
“I know.” I was terrified of the same thing. “But I’m here and I’m alive.”
24
Stella
My fingers tap repeatedly against the arm of the plastic chair in the main office’s waiting room.
“Stella?” The receptionist peers at me from the other side of her desk. “Mrs. Collins could be a while. Why don’t you go to your first period class and I’ll pull you when she’s done?”
And face Jonah again? “No. I’ll wait.”
Magically, the door to her office opens. Out walks a girl who clutches a tissue and looks like a bucket of water has been tossed onto her face. For real? People actually fall for her shrink routine?