Page 51 of Ecstasy
Alex shakes his head, scrubs a hand over his face. “What is with you?”he asks, exasperated. “Why are you fucking like this?” He gestures toward me, as if this is just…me.
I don’t know. I don’t know why I’m like this.I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t even have a bad childhood to blame this shit on. I don’t have a horror story. I’m all fucked up, and I don’t know why, and I want to go home. I want to go to my room and crawl under my sheets and not think about Alex or Eli or why I’m like this.
“I just don’t feel good.”
He takes a step toward me. “Zara. Talk to me. What’s wrong?”
I cross my arms over my chest, wanting to bury under his clothes that I’m wearing. Disappear and hide. “Alex.”
He takes another step. “Yeah?”
“Jax said something about you last night.”
Now it’s his turn to squirm. His turn to look uncomfortable.Guilty.
“What did he say?”
I didn’t really mean to bring this up. I didn’t mean to talk about this right now. Before a funeral. While I’m coming down from whatever I snorted last night. I didn’t mean to but, “He said that you…” I wrap my arms tighter around myself, looking down at the floor. “He said you hurt someone.”
I can’t bring myself to say it. That horrible word that sounded so musical last night coming out of my mouth.Rape.
Alex doesn’t say anything for a long moment. He’s silent, and I keep staring at the floor, waiting. The more time passes without him saying anything, the worse this will get. The more guilty he seems.
“Hurt someone?” he finally asks, a beat too late. “Hurt someone how?” There’s an underlying edge of anger in his tone.
I rub my hand over my throat, one arm still wrapped around myself. “I don’t know.” My voice is a faint whisper, and I’m lying, but I can’t say it. I just can’t say it.
He takes another step toward me and reaches out his hand.
I take it with shaky fingers. He pulls me into his chest, wraps his arms around me, and I lay my head against his shoulder.
“Did you?” I ask him. “Did you hurt someone, Alex?”
He takes a deep breath. I feel his lungs expand and then deflate against me. He holds me tighter, his dark and woodsy scent enveloping me in familiarity. I think he’s just going to deny it, but instead he asks, “If I did, would you still want me?”
I close my eyes, holding onto him tightly. “You still want me, right? After everything I’ve done?”
He doesn’t say anything for a long moment. Hell, maybe he doesn’t want me. Maybe he just feels bad. Maybe he only picked me up last night because he’s got so much guilt. So much guilt about so many things.
“Did you do it?” I press. I didn’t mean to talk about it, but now I want to know. Now I need to know.
“It was just…” He trails off, and I hear him swallow. Then he tries again: “It was just a big mess, Za. It was just a misunderstanding. I didn’t hurt anyone, okay?” He holds me closer, tighter, his body pressed up against every inch of mine. “I didn’t hurt anyone. Do you believe me?”
No.
“Yes.”
He seems to relax in my arms. I don’t believe him, but I’m full of shit. I’m so full of shit, it seems wrong to judge him. I don’t know what happened. I don’t want to know. I don’t want to know, because then I’ll have to do something about it, and I don’t want to. I don’t want to do anything about it.
Alex is my lifeline right now.
Alex is the only constant.
He pulls back from me, holding me by my arms. “I love you.”
My heart flips. Can I say it back? Do I mean it anymore? Did I ever mean it? I look down at the floor again. “Look, Alex, I know you think I’m some druggie loser—”
“I don’t think that.”
