Page 72 of The Lies We Tell Ourselves

“It’s not like I hide it; I just don’t advertise it. It’s like when I met Jamie at one of the LGBTQ+ events a while ago. I told him to take a chance on you. Even though…” He rolled his lips to stop himself from talking. “Coach will be fine. He’ll support you one hundred percent.”

“Really?” Even though I was emotionally drained and physically fucked—I didn’t even know if I could pass a ball with my hands in this state. Buchanan’s words made me feel lighter. “How? Why?”

“His son, Isaiah, is gay. Coach may have caught us once in a hotel room when we were playing an away game.”

“Ah.” Buchanan looked at me deadpan before I burst out laughing. “Where were you?”

“Oh god. That memory lives in my read rent free. It was horrifying, but fuck was it funny. He walked into his son’s room and found me fucking Isaiah’s face.” He cracked a smirk. “Coach has never been able to look at me the same again.”

“No shit?! That’s… you’re fucking awesome. But how do I fix this?” I asked, running my tongue over my dry lips.

“That’s the hard part. But if you listen, I think we can get him back.”

CHAPTER

TWENTY-EIGHT

JAMIE

November 6th

Ididn’t walk away to teach him a lesson. I walked away because I’d learned mine. I’d rather have to adjust my life to the absence of him, than adjust my boundaries to accommodate his blatant disrespect.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-NINE

JAMIE

November 12th

Iloved him, and I gave him the power to destroy me. I just didn’t expect it to decimate me so completely.

CHAPTER

THIRTY

JAMIE

November 29th

My thoughts were destroying me one day at a time. I tried not to think. Not to remember. But silence was a killer I’d never expected.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-ONE

JAMIE

December 12th

“You can’t keep going on like this, JJ. You need to talk to us. We want to help you, but we can’t if you won’t tell us what happened.” Mal’s pained tone was like sandpaper over my skin. It hurt, but I knew I’d hurt him more. I’d shut down completely after running away from Dillon with my bleeding broken heart dragging behind me. Instead of answering, I grunted, rolled over, and buried myself under my covers.

“Angel, you need to eat,” Ava said softly as I curled around myself, hugging the hoodie I’d stolen from Dillon. Food, drink, and life held no meaning anymore. What was the point of living if the one person who you loved—gave your heart, body and soul to—could treat you like that so easily? Like I meant nothing to him after telling me he loved me.

I couldn’t breathe anymore, every inhale was more painful than the last. Each beat of my broken heart was too much to bear. I was alone.

I’d been dodging calls from Aunt Clara, Uncle Daire, and even my little sunbeam. I didn’t want them to see me like this—my gaunt face deadly pale, dark bruises under my eyes, my hair a limp and matted mess. It took all my energy to go to class and not pass out.

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