Page 31 of Falling

“What about me?”

“Who takes care of you?”

She shrugs. “I do.”

I stare at her, and she looks at me like she really means it.

I want to change that. In whatever way I can, I want to be the reason why she doesn’t have to be alone anymore. I can’t even fathom the idea of this girl believing that she always has to be responsible for taking care of herself instead of sharing that burden with someone else.

She drops her knees from her chest and slides off the bed, picking up her duffel bag. “I think I should go. This therapy session has been great and all, but I’ve got to get up early tomorrow.”

“And we’re on for the party next week?”

“Of course.”

“And you’ll tell me if you change your mind?”

“I’ll tell you if I change my mind.” She smiles. “Thanks for the shirt. I’ll give it back next week.”

“Don’t bother. It looks better on you anyway,” I say. She rolls her eyes, smiling before turning to leave. I jump to my feet, gripping onto her forearm, pulling her toward me. “Wait.” Her eyes flicker to mine, searching my face for an answer. “Can I give you a hug? You look like you need a hug.”

She nods, and I think she doesn’t speak to stop herself from crying. I hold my arms out, letting her make the decision, and she steps into me. It might be the best feeling I’ve had in my entire life.

Her body melts into mine, and her head rests against my chest, where my heart is beating fast. She inhales, and when she sighs, it’s like I can feel the weight slowly being lifted off her shoulders. I wonder how many times she’s been hugged in her life. How many times has someone seen the sadness in her eyes and taken the initiative to give her a hug?

I don’t ease up on her, and I let her take control. I hold her tight and let her decide how long she wants to hug me for, and I don’t care if we stand here all night. She clings to me like she’s never been held before, and just that thought is enough to break me. Her arms tighten around my back, her nails digging into my shirt like she’s afraid I’ll let go.

She sniffles, and I cup the back of her head, smoothing my hand down her hair, and her shoulders shake. “I’ve got you, princess,” I murmur, holding her as close as possible. The sound of a sharp sob rips through my heart, and I know she doesn’t want me to look at her while she cries, so I don’t. I keep her pressed to me, whispering, “I’ve got you.”

We stay like that for a while until she’s stopped crying, but her face is still pressed into my shirt. I thread my fingers through her hair, and she doesn’t tell me to stop. Her hair is soft and silky, and I can tell doing this relaxes her. She lets me do it for a few more seconds before she pulls apart from me, swiping at her eyes, and she gives me a weak smile.

“If you tell anyone about that, I’ll murder you,” she croaks out, her voice heavy with emotion.

I hold my hands up in defense. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

When I walk her downstairs and to her car, I make it a personal mission of mine to be the support she’s never had.

12

WREN

“YOU’RE, LIKE, THE SIZE OF A CHILD.”

I would pay verygood money to be able to get last week’s events erased from my memory.

I used to think that I could keep pushing forward, that I could ignore every weird feeling that passes through me, but after allowing myself to break down in Miles’s arms, something shifted. I didn’t feel the need to run to the gym or find some way to get rid of my thoughts without actually dealing with them. I justfeltthem, and that’s been the most emotionally exhausting thing I’ve ever done.

Well, that and trying to run around my apartment now to find a decent sports bra to wear to the gym with Miles.

Turns out that going to the gym twice a day for an entire week means you run out of clothes to wear. I didn’t realize how badly I needed to work off my problems until I found myself trying to run away from them on a treadmill. I’ve burned through more workout clothes this week than usual, courtesy of my mom’s constant check-ins, and I haven’t been on top of the laundry.

Working out has always been therapeutic to me. I’ve been dancing and skating since I was a kid, and staying in shape has alwaysbeen important and has improved my mental health without even realizing it. Time passes by in a haze when I’m in the gym, and the relief I feel afterward is so rewarding. I’m hoping to encourage him to see the benefits that I do, but he was reluctant when I texted him last night to make sure he was ready for it.

I finally find a black Nike sports bra that I haven’t worn since high school. And not to my benefit now, my boobs have grown a ton since then.

“Did you shave?” Scarlett asks through a mouthful of toast when I make my way into the kitchen. She’s sitting at the island, eating her breakfast while balancing her phone on the back of her water bottle as a very intense study video plays.

“No, Scar, I didn’t. We’re going to the gym. I’m not trying to sleep with him,” I argue. She just shrugs and goes back to watching her video. Since I came back from Miles’s house and the rules were set, Scar and Kennedy have been pushing me to break them already. I have no interest in sleeping with him any time soon, and these rules were made for a reason.

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