Page 49 of Starstruck
“Okay. We good then?”
She scans the list again, pulling it closer as she picks up the pen and adds her own item to the list. Then she flips the notebook around to face me again as she says, “There…I think that’s good.”
I scan the last item.
Promise not to fall in love with each other.
At first, I’m tempted to question why she would even think it needed to be added. I don’t do love—everyone knows that. But when I meet her eyes, noticing a mix of sadness and desperation filling her features, I realize she didn’t add it to be cocky; like she expects me to fall for her or even thinks that I will. It’s more like a warning—as if she wants to save me from the pain she believes comes with loving her before it even begins.
Like it’s a reminder to herself that love only leads to pain and she doesn’t want any part of it.
My eyes soften, a small smile inching on my face. “Don’t worry, Lenny girl. I don’t love anyone.”
I haven’t since my mom.
She tilts her head softly, rolling her lips together before leaning forward and holding out her hand to me. “So, do we have a deal?”
My eyes move to the list again, rereading the last two items. Then I wrap my hand around hers as I nod. “Deal.”
We both sign our names at the bottom of the list. Except as I write mine, a knot begins to form in my stomach. Because although love isn’t something I’ve ever imagined for myself, I can’t help but think that if I did love someone, if Icould…
It would be her.
[21 ]
ALL THE WAY DOWN
LENNON
“THIS IS ME TRYING” BY TAYLOR SWIFT
Today marks six months.
Six months since the worst day of my life.
Six months since some idiot decided to get behind the wheel after a night of drinking and ripped the two most important people in my life right out from under me.
Six months of agonizing over every aspect of that day, wondering if there was anything I could do to prevent it. Maybe if I’d been paying just a bit more attention or waited a split second longer at the light, everything could’ve been avoided. My parents would still be alive, and the dirtbag who hit us probably would’ve just been charged with a DUI (if he was caught at all) and continue to drive drunk another day.
Six months of wishing it was me who died that day instead.
How is it that it feels like time has flown by and yet moved so slowly all at once?
My alarm blares as six-thirty rolls around, signalling it’s time for me to get up. But I’ve already been awake for hours, tossingand turning all night, unable to stop my mind from torturing me with the memory of my parents.
With a sigh, I roll over to shut off my alarm. I scroll through my phone, sending quick responses to my siblings, both of whom texted already to tell me if I need them today, just call.
I won’t, though, and they both know that.
I send a text to Isa, letting her know I won’t be available today, then call Jeremy and let him know the same. The last thing I want today is to be bothered by anyone, but I also know if I don’t let people know I’m at least alive, I’ll have them knocking down my door to make sure I’m okay.
After I hang up with Jeremy, I scroll through my contacts to make sure there isn’t anyone else I should inform. I still don’t have Baxter’s info—I’ve refused every time he’s asked to avoid any attachments—so even if I wanted to, I can’t let him know. Which is probably for the best. Besides, it’s not like we had plans to see each other today anyway.
So I shut off my phone completely and place it on my bedside table. Then I roll onto my back and watch my ceiling fan spin in circles as I try to force myself back to sleep.
It feels like an entire lifetime later when I wake up, startled by the pounding coming from my apartment door. It figures that even though I told everyone who needed to know I’d be out of reach today, one—or possibly all—of them still felt the need to come check on me.
It pays to have people who care about you and would notice if you went missing. But sometimes, it also really sucks.
