Page 22 of The Lies We Tell Ourselves

“Well,” he said, spitting at my feet. “I wanna leave a message for that little faggot with you.”

Confusion washed over me, but I nodded as much as his grip would allow. “O-okay,” I rasped.

I hadn’t even blinked before his fist crashed into my temple. The world went black. Pain ricocheted through me at multiple impact points like I’d been shot several times. The pain stole the air from my lungs as tears spilled down my cheeks. “Fucking nancy boy.” Mr. Abernathy growled as I fell to the floor.

I curled up into the fetal position as he kicked my stomach. I wrapped my arms around my legs and tucked my head, trying to shield my organs. His steel-toe capped boots relentlessly kicked into me as he yelled profanities at me. The pain made blood and bile pool in my mouth. Every breath was excruciating as agony became the only thing I knew.

I thought it was bad when he kicked my stomach, but it was nothing compared to the moment he stomped down on my throwing arm. White-hot pain shot through my bone as it cracked. The sound echoed around me before I passed out. For a few blissful seconds, the world was silent.

My head was wrenched up off the floor by my hair. Mr. Abernathy grabbed my face, his fingers and thumb pushing my jaw open. His arm shook with his unrestrained anger as he bellowed at me, “I will fucking kill him. Make sure you tell him that. No son of mine will live to be a fucking faggot.”

CHAPTER

TEN

JAMIE

Monday was here before I knew it. The alarm on my phone, although set to silent, vibrated like a jackhammer in my hand. I blinked awake, my eyes dry and crusty from lack of sleep. It was still dark outside, but the light from the streetlight near our window illuminated the room enough for me to see.

After not being able to fall asleep Saturday night—even though it was almost three a.m. before Ava went back to her room—I should have been exhausted. Instead, I was wired. I had tossed and turned, got up, fumbled with my e-reader, and at one point, threw it across the room. When it crashed into the door, Mal got up, picked my e-reader up, and placed it on my bed. Then, like the sweet-hearted guy he was, asked what movies I liked. I wasn’t able to think of anything, because my mind was still laser-focused on what Dillon said at the party.

Instead of being put off by my introverted nature, Mal put on Twilight and told me to get into bed with him. I must have looked like my eyes were about to bug out of my head, because he threw his head back and laughed at me. I’d never shared a bed with anyone else, so his suggestion caught me completely off guard. He’d assured me that he had no nefarious intentions; he just wanted to offer me some comfort and told me when his sisters struggled to sleep, he did the same and thought it might help.

Sunday morning, he plied me with a caramel latte and breakfast wrap from Bean There before spending the rest of the day snuggled in his bed. We were both able to get a few hours of sleep in between watching the whole Twilight Saga. Mal was a dork and a massive Jacob fan, so I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised, considering he dressed up as him for the party and all.

I slowly extracted myself from Mal’s arms, careful not to wake him. He needed his sleep, but because of me and my nightmares, he’d hardly had any. Remembering his words about his sisters, I made a mental note to call Jessie after classes. It had been nearly a week since I last saw her beaming grin.

After showering and dressing, I closed the door quietly behind me and headed toward Bean There where I was due to meet Ava. She wanted to walk me to my first course. Not many students signed up for the early-morning classes, preferring to sleep in longer. Unfortunately for us, the ones we needed for our degree started at eight, so we had no choice.

The cool morning air was a welcome reminder that the seasons were starting to change. Fall was one of my favorites. I loved the autumnal colors—golden yellows, burnt oranges, and vibrant reds, and the first frosts that crunched under your feet and the way your breath hung suspended in the air. Nature at its finest.

“Well, if it isn’t my little angel.”

“Hey, Ava.” She handed me a to-go cup and smiled. The early morning sun lit up the kaleidoscope of colors in her hair. “You ready for today?”

“Of course, I am! Who doesn’t like getting up at the ass crack of dawn?” she snarked. “That’s why this is my third latte this morning.” I snorted. No wonder she was an Energizer Bunny every time I saw her. “I got you a caramel latte.”

I took a sip and groaned. “This is delicious. Let me know how much I owe you.”

She waved me off and sat down on one of the benches facing the main quad. “Sit with me, we’ve got time.” She patted the space next to her. I dropped my bag by my feet and tried not to shriek when my ass hit the cold wooden bench. “So?—”

Her tone said everything, and I rolled my eyes. “Not you as well?”

She looked up at me with an arched brow. “It’s not wrong to care about your friend’s wellbeing, Jamie.” She put her hand over mine and squeezed. “And we care. Me and Mal.”

“Did he put you up to this?”

She shook her head. “No. He said he was worried about you. We both are. We saw how you were on?—”

I held up my hand to stop her from saying anything else. I turned in my seat and took her hands in mine. “I know, and I’m sorry that you did.” I bit my lip as I took a deep calming breath. “That was, well, that was rough.” I fumbled my words, not knowing what to say. “But I’m alright.” She looked at me like she didn’t believe me. “Honestly, I’m okay.” I smiled. “I’ve been here a week and already made the best friends I’ve ever had.” Saying that hurt more than I’d ever admit, but I plastered a smile on my face so she would believe me.

“Alright, if you’re sure?” she said hesitantly. I squeezed her hand before letting go and taking another sip of my latte.

“I am. I’m excited about today.” I beamed at her over my cup. Ava’s mirroring smile settled something inside me, and a weight lifted off my shoulders.

“It’s Architectural History for you, isn’t it?”

I nodded. “I’ve heard good things about Mr. Tunaley.”

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