Page 108 of Near Miss

I can see my sister’s fingers flying across the screen of her phone. Maybe she’s talking to our father.

I’ve been avoiding him all day. I lost count of the number of calls, and I muted his texts.

One of the first things someone said to me after my surgery was how brave I was. It’s what I say to living donors before I slice into them. Sometimes I say it in their hospital rooms beforehand to put them at ease, and I always whisper it right before I press down with my scalpel.

It’s just another thing that makes me a hypocrite.

Because I’m not brave at all.

I might be the stupidest, most cowardly girl in the world, actually.

Drawing all these lines so I could keep all these secrets—my own, my sister’s, my father’s.

And it never once occurred to me that maybe they wouldn’t be safe when I was running around with someone whose literal job involves people knowing more of his business than they should.

A crease cuts between Stella’s eyebrows when she looks down at her phone.

My lungs push against my rib cage, and I think those old breaks strain. “How’s Dad?”

My sister drops her phone and turns to face me. She frowns, nose wrinkling, and she gives a resigned shake of her head. “Upset. Confused. He doesn’t understand why you won’t return his texts or calls.”

“What am I supposed to say?” I hold my hands out before wiping at my cheeks. “Oh, hey, Dad, your privacy was violated—totally my fault, sorry about that—but actually, all thoseawful things people are saying? I’ve thought about ninety-eight percent of them.”

“Why not?” Stella counters, brows flicking up. “He goes to AA like three times a week. Trust me, I’ve been to a lot of meetings. He’s not going to be shocked to hear it.”

Willa drops the shirt she was holding and turns from the mirror, lips pulling into a thin line. “Did you just say it was your fault?”

“Well, it is.” I hold my hands up towards the ceiling, all of me exasperated, before I push to sit up. I think my voice is going to come out harsh, unyielding and unflinching like I’m so above it all, but the whole thing cracks horribly. “I’m the one who was too stupid, running around pretending to be his friend, so resolute and so certain that I didn’t even consider the ramifications of being involved with someone who lives in the public eye.”

Kate’s hand finds my back, sweeping in small, soothing circles. “You’re not stupid.”

“And this is not your fault!” Willa folds herself down beside me, one arm coming around my shoulder. “Beckett might have a job that comes with more publicity than most, but that doesn’t give anyone the right to invade your privacy. It doesn’t mean they get access to you because they think they deserve access to him.”

I shake my head, swatting at the tears tracking down my face. “I’m the one who fell in love with a football-kicking, Napoleon-obsessed—”

“I’m sorry, did you say Napoleon?” Willa turns towards me, nose scrunched up in disgust. “Like Bonaparte? Played by Joaquin Phoenix in that movie?”

Cocking her head to the side, Stella whispers at the same time, “Fell in love with?”

I bring my knees to my chest and rest my chin on top of them. I wish my heart were here, it would know exactly what to say—how to tell them all that I love him, this boy with the dimple and the eyes and the mind that knows me. So much I stopped listening to my brain who was really only trying to keep us alive.

So much I let them tug and tug on that rope of me until it finally broke, and now I’m just this person with a heart that lives somewhere else.

I dig my thumb into the seam of my leggings, and I tip my head back and forth before answering, “Yes.”

“Then why did you make him go?” Stella angles her head, features set in a haughty challenge.

I don’t think I’m going to tell her anything at all, because the second I asked him to leave, I wished I hadn’t. But I do. I’m just so tired, I think. “Because this is exactly what I was afraid of! The second I took a step back, all those lines I was—”

“No.” Stella holds a palm up. “I’m not listening to that. Yes, it’s horrific and awful and your privacy, my privacy, Dad’s privacy was invaded, and it was a situation we never should have been put in to begin with, but what—that means you don’t try? You go back to being this girl who thinks she needs to spend her life alone because she did an impossibly hard, brave thing? And she has complicated feelings about it? Bullshit.”

“Stella.” Willa’s voice cuts across the room, and her hand finds my shoulder again.

Stella shakes her head, flicking her hand towards Willa like she’s waving her off. “No. She’s waiting for this magic switch to flip, and it’s never going to happen. I am sorry that your first time stretching outside of your goddamn box, you got burned. That’s life. And you’re human.” My sister turns towards me, her features collapsing and her eyes clouding over. She leans forward, gathering my hands in hers and bringing them to her chest. “A complex, hurting, beautiful human being who doesn’t deserve to spend their life alone because they have imperfect feelings about something. If I have to drag you out by your hairtomorrow, I will. You’re not fucking up this thing you have with him because of something that isn’t his fault, and it’s certainly not yours either.”

Kate drops her head to mine. “Do you still want to go to the game tomorrow?”

“I don’t know.”

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