Page 42 of We Are the Stars

“You just did.”

Ignoring me, she continues, “You said you were doing things for your anger. Therapy, I suppose.”

I’m not, but I don’t correct her. The only thing I do for my anger is hide myself from the world. “Yeah…”

“What happened on Christmas?”

“Nothing good.”

“Wow. Your knack for details is unfathomable.”

I can’t even crack a grin at her teasing words. Thinking of that Christmas, that last one I had with my mom, hurts. “I was a dick. Ma wanted me to stay home and I told her I had plans with friends. We had just finished dinner and I was ready to get away from it all. Ma, who was already upset from the disastrous morning we’d had, started crying and I…I lost it. I don’t know what came over me. I started screaming at her, at my…at anyone who would listen. That was the first and only time he hit me.”

“He hit you?” Her voice is quiet, sad.

“I hit him harder.”

“Carsen…”

“After that, I hated him. I hated him with everything inside of me. There wasn’t—”

I don’t finish the sentence because there’s now a pair of lips attached to mine.

At first, I’m confused. Then I’m kissing her back.

It’s feather-light, romantic even. The way it feels? Weird, yet normal—almost too normal, like this is something I’ve done before, something I could do again.

It feels good. Too good.

Suddenly she pulls back. Her hand covers her mouth, her eyes wide with surprise.

“Oh my god,” she says breathily. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s—”

“Holy crap. Shit. Fuck! Shit!” She jumps up, pats the ground for I don’t know what since she didn’t bring anything out here with her, mutters more curse words, and literally runs away.

What the fuck?

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