Page 65 of The Casualty of Us
His hand squeezes mine again, and I turn back, letting my eyes trail over our almost matching features and confessing softly, “Sometimes I wish I’d been you.” I bring my gaze back up to his. “I’m not sure…” My brows fall. “I’m not sure it would all hurt so much at times if I’d been you.”
“It would,” he whispers back gently, expression turning as tense as his hand around mine. “It would, O, just in different ways and for different reasons.”
“Do you ever wish you were me?”
“No.” He grins. “I’d be terrible at being you.”
“True,” I agree, lips twitching up a little. “You definitely lack the subtlety for it.”
He snorts. “Says the girl who used a book as a dangerous weapon today.”
A single laugh bubbles up before the grin slips from my face, leaving me staring at him while wrestling with something I’ve always known, but lately…
“I just.” I purse my lips, hating the way the bottom one is trying to tremble again. “I just see so much sometimes, Ollie.” The admission immediately makes me start to rush out on its heels, shakily unearthing it all. “I see so much and somehow—” I gasp as the first tear rolls down my cheek. “I keep missing it. I keep missing the most important thing, and I can’t—he just put me right back there, and I hate him for it.”
“I know,” he soothes, concern spilling from his eyes to overtake his face. “But it’s time to let it go. You aren’t God, O, you can’t expect that shit from yourself.”
I give him a quick nod. “I know that.”
“Come here.” He lets go of my hand to slide his arm behind my head, pulling me against him before starting quietly again. “You have to be you because the world needs you to change it for the better, baby sister.” I scowl at the words even as his chest moves under my head, filling my nose with the smell of clean laundry and family. “And it needs me to remind you it’s worth saving.”
“Maybe,” I concede glumly before remembering something that’s probably worth mentioning. “You know I’m not supposed to have visitors, right?”
“Oh, I’m not here seeing you,” he tuts. “I’m getting notes from Marley.”
My lips lift with a small smile despite the couple of tears still falling. “Okay.”
“Give me some credit.” His chest rises with a laugh. “I may not have your IQ, but I’ve learned a thing or two by watching.”
“Got it.” Another quick laugh bubbles up, answering his, and I close my eyes, everything in me relaxing for the first time since…well, Christmas morning, I guess.
“By the way,” he starts again, smugness in his voice letting me know whatever is coming must be good. “Coach said I’ll be starting next season since Wander is graduating this year.”
“Congrats.” I yawn.
He pauses. “This means you’re going to have to actually come to the games now.”
“Don’t worry.” I give his chest a halfhearted pat. “If you get off that bench, I’ll be right there front and center.”
“Good,” he sighs before whispering, “Get some sleep, baby sister.” His arm pulls me in tighter. “I know the way out.”
And I do, passing out like a light within a couple of minutes, getting my first full night’s sleep since Hayes sent me spiraling with the worst Christmas present ever. Dreaming of a randomassortment of things popping out of the little black box I never opened.
Chapter Seventeen
OPHELIA - JANUARY 2013
Suspension endsup sucking a lot more than I originally expected.
The first day is fine. After a good night’s sleep, I get most of my schoolwork for the next week out of the way by the time lunch rolls around before curling up back in bed. Munching on the remainder of my scones while ignoring my phone and readingSense and Sensibilitylate into the night until I finish it around one in the morning.
Because obviously I need some sense.
The second day drags.
Especially considering that I have to wait around for half of it until a professor is free to take me to the library to get the book I need in order to finish the next assignment on my list. Then I ran out of scones on top of that. Forcing me to beg Marley to bring me food a few hours after lunch once the hunger wore me down and thereby making her late for soccer practice. Then Ollie texted me, laughing his ass off about Josey making her grand reappearance at dinner with two black eyes, and I spent the rest of the night scowling at the ceiling about it all.
Definitely not mulling over why a certain guy’s proclamation of love made me crack enough to take a book to someone’s face.
