Page 259 of Ashes of Sin and Stardust

Chapter 55

We both did a lot ofreading that day.

Alice tore through the book I approved for her, and I suspect she took an additional Adderall, but she didn’t admit to it. I texted Becca and asked for book suggestions on how to survive living with someone with Borderline Personality Disorder, and she used her lunch break to swing by and drop something off. That evening, we fell back into our usual routine of sitting on the couch with her resting beside me, though this time she had her feet in my lap instead of her head so she could sit up and read.

She was making little notes in her notebook while she read, flipping the pencil back and forth, and rubbing her feet together. I was beginning to think it was a comfort stim for her, like thumb sucking or hair twirling. Occasionally, she’d accidentally nudge my book with her feet, and then freeze in anticipation as if she were waiting for me to scold her.

After the third time I asked her, “are you doing that on purpose?”

“No,” she said, and moved to pull her feet away.

I caught her ankle and held her in place. “Okay.”

She relaxed after a few minutes, and then eventually went back to rubbing her feet together. “Is it annoying?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

She wrote some more things down in her book, sighed deeply, and resumed her reading, setting the journal down on her lap so she could hold the book with both hands. My eyes flashed over to the journal, and I noticed some of the things she’d written.

Dumbass. He’s not going to hurt you.He promised. He listens and he doesn’t break his promises. He’s not going to start with you.

If you could stop being a useless piece of emotional baggage for like five minutes, that would be super cool.

I set my book down and plucked her book right out of her hands. Her eyes widened and she looked up at me, her face guarded. She’d walked on eggshells all day, acting extremely quiet, subdued, and a little depressed.

Removing her journal from her thighs, I pulled on her ankles until she fell backwards and slid towards me. I dragged her up onto my lap and forced her to look at me.

“You’re in even more trouble now.”

“No... wait, why?”

I held up the journal. “Why are you writing mean things about my girl?”

Her eyes welled and spilled over.

“Are you trying to distract me with how pretty you are when you cry?” I growled. “It’s not going to work.”

She shook her head. “No.” She tried to get off me, but I held onto her. “Stop it, I can say what I want about myself. It’s my journal.”

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