Page 58 of Severance

“They’re beautiful.” My gaze returns to his.

“They fucking are,” Dakota agrees. There’s a pause. “I’m sorry. I’m not very good at keeping my stuff organized,” he confesses as I move to the center of the room, but I don’t notice anything out of place.

“It’s okay.” A trace of a smile stretches across my lips, and I’m a bit unsure what to do next. My throat starts closing up and my palms gets sweaty. “I changed my mind. Can I have some water?” I say timidly, going over to his desk.

“Of course.” He walks out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar. The sound of his footsteps echoing down the hallway grows faint and then disappears.

There’s a strange flutter-like sensation building in my belly because he’s trusted me to be by myself in his personal space with all his quirks and secrets out in the open. It’s almost like looking inside his head, which is both exciting and terrifying, considering the dark nature of his music.

I’m surprised when I hear someone else in the living room talking to Dakota, their tone low and indifferent—Dakota never said anything about having a roommate. I freeze in my spot and listen to the hushed whispers as they travel through the apartment, arguing with each other.

When the noises reach the end of the hallway, I realize it’s Mikah.

“…you never fucking listen to me, DK.” His rough voice crawls into the bedroom through the narrow crack between the door and the frame. “Eric’s bad news. He’s going to screw us all over.”

“But at least I’m fucking doing something,” Dakota comes back, his tone bitter. “I’m not going to sit and wait for some shitty label to get to my demo tape.”

“Fine. Do whatever you want.” His heavy, booted footsteps thumping along the hallway vanish behind the door that slams shut.

Dakota enters the room a few seconds later. He tries to mask his uneasiness with a smile, but it looks forced and doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Is everything okay?” I ask quietly, fumbling with the hem of my sweater.

“Yeah. Just band stuff.” He hands me a glass of water.

“You and your brother live together?”

Dakota nods, moving closer. “Yep.” His palms slide up my shoulders and linger on my neck. The warmth of his skin against mine is divine. “Don’t worry about him. He’s a major dick sometimes, but he keeps to himself.”

I’ve never had anyone say “dick” in front of me, and I feel heat creeping up my cheeks, even if it was used in a context totally unrelated to sex.

It doesn’t bother me. It makes me wonder what other foul words Dakota knows and how and when he’s going to say them to me.

“Do you want to show me your collection?” I ask, motioning toward the shelf.

“You bet.”

We hang out in Dakota’s room until three in the morning, listening to music and staring at his hummingbirds while talking about his band and my baking blog.

He drops me off at Jess’s shortly before four, and we spend another thirty minutes in front of her house kissing like tomorrow’s the end of the world.

17. After

“I know you’re upset and I know you don’t think this is going to help you feel better, but it will. Trust me.” Jess purses her lips together and waits for my answer.

I’m not sure how I feel about her idea yet or if there’s much of my best friend left in her. The person sitting across from me isn’t the same girl who gave me black nail polish for my thirteenth birthday. She’s a new version of Jess who’s developed a bunch of crazy ideas over the course of the past few weeks.

The sight of Joseph Miller’s name slapped all over the printouts she’s laid on my bed makes my stomach churn.

I swallow back the nausea and look at her. “This won’t make any difference. His attorney won’t stop pushing for insanity just because a bunch of people with homemade posters show up in front of the courtroom.” My gaze flicks to my nightstand where my phone is. Mikah and I are supposed to meet up later. The official story is the car wash I owe him. I don’t know what the unofficial one is. He didn’t return my texts for a while, so I have no idea what’s going on with us at the moment.

“Yes, it will,” Jess counters. “Our voices need to be heard. Yours, mine, Ashley’s, Luke’s.” There’s a wild spark in her eyes I’ve never seen before. She’s changed a lot since the attack. We all have. I’m just not certain I like what she’s becoming. Although I’m not one to be passing judgement. My life is like a train slowly going off the tracks. I’m struggling with keeping my grades just above the fail mark. I’m constantly rescheduling my therapy sessions. I never went to another meet-up. But the worst thing of all is that I believe I might be developing some very conflicting feelings for the older brother of my dead boyfriend.

“Is Blaze going?” I ask, shaking off my anxiety.

“Yes.” Jess picks up some of the printouts and tosses them back in the folder. “Are you still talking to Mikah?”

“Yes.”

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