Page 70 of Pieces Of You

“And what reason is that?”

I shift onto my back again and eye the ceiling, trying to come up with a response that will satisfy his curiosity. “I spent so much of my life being an outcast, or taking care of my mom, and once she was gone—” The ache in my chest is sudden and unexpectedly severe, and I blink hard, pushing past the pain. Through the knot in my throat, I manage to say, “I wanted something for myself. Something I’d craved but could never grasp while she was alive. I just…” I shrug. “I wanted to be a normal teenage girl.”

Holden’s silence is deafening, and I force myself to breathe, to settle the anguish twisting through my bloodline so I can peek up at him.

“You think it’s stupid, don’t you?” The crack in my voice betrays the strength I’m attempting to portray.

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” he says, sitting taller, his gaze distant. “It’s just that… I don’t think you went through what you did and survived what you have so you could come out of it and benormal.” He pauses a beat. “You’re not here to beaverage, Jamie. You’re here to beextraordinary.”

I stare at him. At a boy lost in his own thoughts, in his own world, and he has no idea the effect he has on me.

Or the change he’s creating inside me.

Gina used to give me her clothes to help fight my battles against my tormentors.

And now… now Holden’s giving me his words to rage a war against myself.

34

Holden

Over the next few weeks,Jamie and I fall into a routine that was never discussed—never outlined. On Wednesdays, we go to Esme’s, then to the diner, and then to her house where she packs an overnight bag, and we go back to my house and have dinner with my mom.

Afterward, Jamie showers, bathes, and then I fuck her senseless against every surface of my room.

That last part is a lie.

On Saturday nights, I pick her up from work, and we go back to her house, where I fuck her senseless against every surface ofherroom.

That last part is also a lie.

Can you see where my headspace is at? And I realize that I’m being a dick but hear me out. We make out.A lot.We fool around.A lot. I see her naked.A lot.It’s just that… I’m forcing myself not to do all those things at the same time.

It’s…awesome—another lie, but it’s what Jamie wants, so that’s what Jamie gets.

On the upside, my dick and my hand are best friends again.Yay!

Besides those two nights a week, we don’t hang out, don’t call each other. Occasionally we’ll send random, meaningless text messages, but apart from that, there’s not a whole lot of communication going on.

And I can say the same for Dean and me, minus the text messages. We talk only when necessary, mainly during games or practices, and the rest of the time, I ignore his existence. I have other friends I can hang out with. So does Jamie now, too. Well, one friend. Some girl named Melanie from her art class who’s notorious for hatingliterallyeverybody.

Besides Jamie, apparently.

I catch sight of the two girls at a table by the art room during lunch and make my way over to them. Jamie and I don’t make a show of our... relationship(?)on school grounds. Not because we’re trying to hide it or because we’re ashamed, anddefinitelynot because of Dean, but because—as Jamie puts it—it’s no one’s fucking business. I straddle the bench next to Jamie, startling her. “What the—”

“Hi,” I cut in, baring my teeth with my smile.

She eyes me sideways. “Hi.”

I point to her sandwich sitting on a Zeke’s Diner paper bag. “Is that the grilled—” She’s already offering it to me before I finish the sentence.

I take a bite, and then another, and when I’m done, I kiss the spot beneath her ear. The spot that makes her flinch, makes her laugh. “Stop it!” she hisses, but she’s smiling. She’s dressed the same as she is every day, and her hair’s up in that perfect bun she can’t seem to let go of. But… there’s something different about her today. Something I can’t quite put a finger on.

I scoot closer to her, settle my hand on her knee, and slowly creep higher beneath her skirt. “What’s with you?”

Her smile widens. “What’s with you?”

“What’s with both of you?” That comes from the girl sitting opposite us, her words completely monotone. I turn to face her—jet black hair with thick bangs covering half her bright blue eyes, and cherry red lips contrasting her pale face. She isn’t like most of the other girls in the school, and, like Jamie, she doesn’t make an effort to try to be. I dig it.

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