Page 73 of Before You
I made sure Trent wasn’t going to be here, but honestly, he wants to see me right now about as much as I want to see him.Luka didn’t bat an eye at Marley walking in with me, but he did leave a few minutes ago. I texted Asher from the airport to let him know he’d be on his own for dinner, and was surprised by his response saying it was fine. I really thought he’d put up more of a fight, but it made sense when I saw Bria’s car in the driveway. I wasn’t expecting to see them playing Uno, or for him to look so damn happy about losing, but I think he was just happy to be spending time with her. He barely gave Mira a second look aside from saying hi before refocusing on Bria.
If only Bria knew what a momentous occasion this was.
Mira snuck off to my room a few minutes ago to call Henry before his game later, and I’m hoping she doesn’t help herself by going through all of my drawers. I fight the urge to kick Mirabelle out of my room, desperate to relieve the anxiety I can’t seem to shake. I’m doing my best, but I can’t stop thinking if I just take a few more pills this weekend to get through my family’s visit without revealing how perfectly not fine I am, I’ll go back to cutting how many I take. I’ve been doing really well since the scare at the party, but right now, I’m on edge, and it’s the last thing I want to be.
Almost as if Marley can sense something is wrong, she rests her hand on my thigh, and it’s the perfect distraction because instead of thinking about how badly I want to take something right now, all I can think about is her hand on me.
She looks at me, her ocean eyes scanning over my face, appearing to ask if I’m okay, but before I can even try to reassure her, Asher’s voice grows excited as he and Bria continue their very exaggerated and detailed description of my reunion with Marley in this living room.
“And then JJ was all like, ‘She’s my girl, stop macking on her,’ and then they started speaking in Italian or something to each other. I don’t remember how many languages Marley speaks, but it’s alot,” Asher says, and Bria snorts, rollingher eyes. Well, looks like Mom is about to figure out Marley understood what she said at the airport.
“Oh my god, don’t listen to him. It wasn’t like that. The only thing he’s right about is the Italian, though. It was more of ayou’re minelook JJ gave her, and they’re lucky nobody noticed except for me and Asher,” Bria corrects, and Mom’s piercing eyes find me.
“Since when do you speak Italian?” she asks, and it feels like the temperature in the room has gone up twenty degrees. Marley turns to look at me, and I feel nauseous.
“Honestly, I’ve been thinking about picking up a second language as well,” Hunter chimes in, trying to have my back. I guess he’d know better than anyone how things have slipped past our parents after Bailey. Their focus has been on finding him, and they shouldn’t feel bad about it.
I felt guilty enough for the attention I took away from Bailey after my knee surgery last winter. “It’s not a big deal,” I say, forcing a dry laugh. “I took it both semesters freshman year for my language credit and picked it up easily.”
Mom’s face falters and my lungs constrict in my chest.Fuck.I press my hand against my chest as my heart rate quickens, and I can’t quite catch my breath.
“Hunter’s right. Once you learn one Romance language, the rest of them are easier to understand. I can only speak Italian and Spanish, but Marley’s fluent in French, Italian, Portuguese, Spanish, and I’m not sure where she’s at with Mandarin. It’s annoying when they start whispering to each other in French because they know I can’t understand, which makes me think . . .” I can’t hear anything Bria says over the struggle of taking breaths, unable to look away from the poorly concealed heartbreak on my parents’ faces as they share a look.I’m fine.I’msupposedto be fine. They can’t know I’m the furthest thing from it.
“JJ,” Marley murmurs quietly, her hand squeezing my thigh, trying to get my attention.
“I’m going to see what’s taking Mira so long,” I interrupt, desperate to escape. I pull away from Marley’s touch, and I can’t bear to look at her because I think seeing all the questions I don’t have answers for will actually send me over the edge.
Instead of going directly to my room, I pivot toward the bathroom Asher and I share, locking the door behind me as I try to catch my breath.What the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I like this?I stare at myself in the mirror, and I’m honestly impressed by how fine I look on the outside, despite how broken I feel.
Pull yourself together, JJ. Talking about how you want to be fine isn’t going to fix a goddamn thing if you can’t make it happen.
I turn the sink on, splashing the cold water on my face as I make myself inhale a ragged breath and then another, my heart rate beginning to slow as my lungs fill with oxygen again.
Giving myself another moment before I leave the safety of the bathroom, I realize I don’t actually know why Mirabelle needed privacy to make this call to Henry.
I really hope they’re not having phone sex in my room.The thought alone is enough to break some of the waves crashing over me, giving me a glimpse above the surface.
I still knock on the door before walking in just to make sure, and Mirabelle opens the door. “What?”
“Are you planning on coming back down anytime soon?” I ask, but then my gaze lands on my desk, and the answer seems so simple. They might be the wrong answer, but they’ll make everything easier.
“I’ll be down in a second,” she says, pulling my attention back to her. Mirabelle tilts her head, her dark eyes narrowing as she sees right through my bullshit. “What’s wrong?”
“I just need something from my room.”
Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to, Mira. You’re not going to like what you find if you do.
“No, there’s something wrong. Are you okay?” she asks, stepping aside to let me in my room, and in an instant, water floods my lungs again.
Would it be better to finally tell someone how thoroughly fucked in the head I am?
The decision is made for me as Henry says something incoherent, and she gives me an apologetic look. “Sorry, Henry’s superstitious. Just give me a sec and . . . sorry, I’m still here,” she says, putting the phone up to her ear again. “It’s JJ. He needs something from his room. No, I’m fine, but I probably do need to go in a few.”
I can feel her watching me as I walk toward my desk, my hands shaking as I pull out the Tylenol bottle I’ve hidden them in. After the way Asher eyed my desk a few weeks ago, I got paranoid he’d look to see what was in it, but thank god I did, or the jig would be up.
I throw one back before I can second guess myself, shoving the bottle back in the drawer.
“Actually, babe, can I call you back?” she asks, and my heart rate goes through the fucking roof.“Je t’aime aussi.”23
