Page 87 of Just Don't Call Me Yours

Margot sighs, letting her drunken, heavy head fall against my shoulder. I want to smooth down her hair and cradle her face in my hands, but I’m too afraid she’ll stop talking. I sit completely still, my heart pounding and chest aching as I wait for her to say more.

She finally groans. “But I know myself, and I don’t think I can keep this going while you’re gone.” Looking up at me, she props her chin on my shoulder and frowns. “I think I’ll get jealous and insecure. And in the end, it will probably make me crazy.”

My mouth twitches into a smile as I relax and smooth some of her hair away from her face. “Or you might not feel any of those things.”

“And you,” she says, ignoring my comment. “You’ll be faced with all sorts of temptation and new things, and you won’t want me.” She lets out a sigh. “I’ll bore you.”

A low laugh escapes me. “You could never bore me.”

She scoffs as she sits up straight, unimpressed with my answer. Putting her head down on her pillow, she hugs it as she mutters, “Trying to make anything work under these circumstances would be dumb.”

So much of what she’s saying is right, but I still want to fight her on all of it. I’m not ready to walk away from this. I wish she would at least let me try.

Margot yawns, and I jump to my feet, kneeling in front of her because I know my time is almost up. She’ll pass out soon, and I have more I need to say—a lot more.

“Margot.”

She lifts her brow, but her eyes are heavy. If I say anything to her, she’ll forget it by tomorrow morning. Getting up, I head over to her desk and find paper and a pen. I write my number again since I’m pretty sure she threw the first one away, and then I keep writing.

“Are you writing me a note?” Her groggy voice asks, and I look over my shoulder to find her fighting to stay awake.

“Yes, I’m writing you a note.”

“Make sure you include that stuff about you being hopelessly mine,” she mumbles, pointing a sleepy finger at the paper.

I let out a breath of laughter as I shake my head. “Go to sleep, Red.”

She lets out a light laugh, but that’s the last sound she makes. When I’ve finished writing everything I need to say, I look back to find her completely passed out. Her hair is wild around her perfect face, and I gently brush a strand away from her forehead. She stirs but doesn’t wake. Leaning down, I kiss the side of her head. “Bye, Margot.”

With each step toward the door, my shoes feel like they’re filled with lead. I don’t want to leave her. I don’t want this to be it between us, but the rest is up to her. I open the door, careful not to make a sound, and before I close it, I look back at her. My chest aches, and when I shut the door behind me, I miss the girl I haven’t even left yet.

55

margot

I let out a groan as I roll over. The light pouring into my room might as well be made of shards of glass, and I squint against the glare. I should have picked the bed furthest from the window—or at least invested in some blackout curtains.

My head is killing me.

What was the bartender’s name last night? Did he even tell me his name? Whoever he is, he’s on my list. I’ve never been this hungover. Bits and pieces of last night flash before my eyes. Everything before the rum comes to me clearly.

Jackson giving me his phone number.

Telling Rae about sleeping with him.

Writing his number on the bathroom mirror.

It’s the stuff that happened after the rum that’s a little harder to pinpoint. I think I drank enough to last me a lifetime. Even the thought of the stuff makes me nauseous. Foggy pieces of last night’s puzzle float in the deepest corners of my mind. Trying to pull them to the forefront, I squint my eyes shut, summoning all of my mental strength.

Izzy and Jess telling me about their plans for the holidays.

Matt making me laugh over a stupid joke I can’t remember.

A cute guy flirting with me.

Jackson pulling me away from that cute guy.

Jackson driving me home.

---