Page 21 of Don't Let Me Go
“I’m sorry you went through that,” I tell him, hoping he knows how sincerely I mean it. “I can’t imagine what it must have been like to have to change schools and move across the state all because you did the right thing and everyone hated you for it.”
Jackson waves away my apology. “Ididn’tdo the right thing. I let the guys torture Devon for months. I let them put him in the hospital. As far as I’m concerned, whatever shit comes my way, I deserve it. I had so many chances to stick up for Devon and stop the bullying, and I didn’t. Because it was easier to look in the other direction. Because I was a coward.”
I can’t believe how much I misjudged Jackson. I thought he was just another entitled jock, someone who smashed up people’s lives anddidn’t care about the consequences. But seeing the regret on his face and hearing the ache in his voice, I know I was wrong.
“That’s not true,” I say, crossing to his bed and sitting down beside him. “You’re not a coward.”
“A kid almost died because of me.”
“But he didn’t. Becauseyoucalled 911.”
“And if I’d stopped the bullying when it started, I wouldn’t have had to call 911 in the first place.”
I can’t disagree with that. Just like I can’t absolve Jackson of the guilt he feels. He’s going to have to live with that for a long time. Even so, I can still be here for him.
“Do you know why I came over here this morning?” I ask. “I wanted to confront you. I wanted to learn every awful thing about you so I could tell my friends exactly who you are and what you’re capable of. And do you know who you are?”
Jackson tenses. His entire body is on edge in preparation of the blow it’s anticipating.
“You’re a boy who made a mistake,” I tell him. “A mistake you’ll probably regret for the rest of your life. But also a mistake you tried to make right when no one else would. Even though it cost you your friends and your family and your future in football.That’swho Jackson Haines is.That’swhat you’re capable of.”
I put my hand on his shoulder and give it a squeeze.
Jackson looks startled. For a second, I’m worried that he thinks I might be hitting on him. (Why are straight boys so fragile?) Then the hard, exhausted lines of his face soften into gratitude, and he pulls me into a hug.
Chapter 9
Jackson
The rule for eating food that’s fallen on the floor is the same as the rule for hugging another dude: Anything under five seconds is okay. Anything more and you shouldn’t be surprised if you get funny looks.
I’ve been hugging Riley for a full minute now, and honestly, I couldn’t care less about rules. It feels good to be held. It’s been so long since I’ve been close to anyone. Since I’ve let anyone get this close. I’d almost forgotten what it’s like to be touched. I don’t care if it’s by a guy—even a gay guy. Riley is comforting. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I canrelax. Like the world isn’t crashing down on me.
I know that doesn’t make any sense. I only met him yesterday. And ten minutes ago, he was ready to tear me a new asshole.
But he didn’t. He stood there and listened to me tell him about the worst thing I’ve ever done. And when I finished, he didn’t look at me like I was a monster or tell me to stay the hell away from him. He offered to be my friend.
Is it any wonder I can’t stop hugging him?
“Thank you,” I say, giving him one final squeeze before pulling away. As much as I’m enjoying this moment, I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. Or give him the wrong idea.
“No problem,” he replies, blushing slightly and avoiding my eyes. “We should probably grab Duy and head over to Rink-O-Rama. Audrey and Tala will be there soon, and Audrey doesnotlike to be kept waiting.”
Riley slides off my bed, but I don’t follow. Instead, I feel a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“Are you coming?” Riley asks.
I open my mouth but can’t form the words to answer. Riley must notice my apprehension because without missing a beat he says, “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone about what happened in Tallahassee.”
That’s exactly my worry. But Riley’s willingness to keep my secret somehow makes me feel worse than the thought of it getting out.
“I don’t want to put you in that position,” I protest. “I don’t want you to lie to your friends.”
“I’m not going to lie. I’m just not going to volunteer certain information. If my friends want to know about you, they can do their own stalking. They have Google.”
He’s right. It’s only a matter of time before someone looks me up on the internet. I should probably be up front and tell the others about Devon before they hear it from someone else. But I’m not sure I have it in me right now. I’m pretty drained from telling Riley.
“You sure you don’t mind?” I ask.
