Page 112 of Finding Delaware

“I think,” Huck starts slowly, pausing a moment before continuing, “I think I was going to do it that night anyway, Taylor.”

My attention flies to his face, breath catching at the way his eyes glitter when they connect with mine. I can’t even respond, the gears spinning in my head as I try to process what he just said. In my silence, he speaks.

“I had this feeling while dancing behind that curtain with Royce…it’s hard to explain, but I felt like my time had run out. Like I was at the end of the road. I’d been feeling it coming for a while, like a passenger in a speeding vehicle heading toward the barricade.” He turns away from me, flattening his other cheek against the pillow. “Royce told me that night that you were in love with me. Said he could see it in your eyes, and when he looked in mine...he saw that I was in love with you, too.”

The earth stops turning for a fraction of a second, my pulse slowing, everything coming to a halt as his revelation rearranges my entire existence.

“I was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder after everything happened. According to my therapist, the way I was feeling at prom was my brain’s way of warning me about an oncoming episode. When Royce said those words, making me realize what I felt for you, it triggered the anxiety. And when the curtain opened...”

He finally turns back toward me with a heavy gaze. “‘Panic-induced psychosis’ is what the doctors said, brought on by high stress. I’d been playing Russian roulette with different meds for over six months at that point, and everything just hitme all at once. But I was already in free fall, Tay. I fully believe it would have happened that night regardless.”

Everything he’s saying begins to register, the weight of it all crashing over me. My mouth opens but quickly shuts, any response sounding shallow.

Anxiety disorder. Panic attacks. And I put a tarantula in his locker because I thought it would be fucking funny?

I nearly drowned him because I thought it would be hot.

The shame that’s always present grows, sprouting tentacles that wrap around my heart and squeeze.

“Taylor, look at me.” Huck’s voice is closer than it was a moment ago, and I glance up to find him inches from my face, brows pinched together. “I told you all this to take away the guilt, not make it worse.”

“Did I cause it?” I ask hoarsely, feeling dizzy. “The anxiety disorder? Was that me?”

He exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Well, you certainly didn’t help, but no. It started after my mom died.”

That should come as a relief, but it doesn’t. I feel like the worst scum on the planet.

Fuck, he just admitted that he’s in love with me-well,was-and all I can focus on is how I’m not worthy of it and don’t deserve it.

Is love supposed to be like this? How can you claim you love someone when all you do is hurt them repeatedly?

“Hey.” He covers his hand over mine where I’ve been massaging my shoulder. “What’s up with that? I’ve seen you wince a few times, and you rub it a lot.”

“Snapped the collarbone trying to get to you after prom,” I answer absently, still working through my guilt. If I wasn’tso wrapped up in my own head, I would have noticed the way he goes entirely still. I would have listened to the feeling in my gut telling me something is wrong, but instead, I focus on myself and my own misery. “I know you say I’m not to blame, but how do we know that? How do we know that the shit I put you through didn’t ultimately lead to that moment?” Life is full of what-ifs. I know my regret isn’t Huckslee’s problem, but it’s eating me alive. “Huck, how do we know–”

“What do you mean,‘trying to get to me’?”

He cuts me off with a biting tone, and I finally look at him,reallylook at him. His pupils are blown out, lips parted as his gaze frantically bounces around my face, breathing erratic. Sirens begin blaring in my brain, loud and confusing.

Danger, danger, danger.

Where, where, where?

“That night when you swallowed those pills.” I frown up at him, noticing the pulse point jumping on the side of his neck. “I followed you home and had a bad feeling.”Like right now. “You weren’t answering the door, and I-I had to break into the bathroom. With my shoulder...”

“What? No,” he shakes his head dazedly, reaching up to tug at his curls. “My dad, he’s the one that found me?”

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Licking my lips nervously, I touch his cheek, not liking the sallow color of his skin. “He got home shortly after I did. Found me in there with you, trying to...”Keep the fucking blood inside your body. “Trying to stabilize you. He’s the one that called the ambulance.”

Huck’s freaking out. I can see it in how his fingers tighten in his hair, knuckles white, and I reach up to disentangle them before threading them with my own. There’s a glazed, sort of far-off look in his eyes. Gripping his jaw, I turn his face toward me.

“Hey, you’re alright. It’s alright. I’ve got you.”

A choked sound leaves his throat like he’s trying to say something, but it gets trapped inside. Just like he’s trapped inside his own head right now.

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