Page 71 of Shiver
Shaking my head, I say, “Thanks, but I really don’t want to talk about it.” My voice is a whisper. I’m not even sure he heard me.
He squeezes my hand gently before letting go. “That’s fine. But if you change your mind, that offer still stands. It always does. Okay?”
I meet his eyes for the first time since he walked in. He’s sincere. I can clearly read the concern in them. “Thanks.”
I rub my ribs absently. My tattoo is mostly healed, though it's a little itchy. For a moment, Egon danced across my sky, lighting it in a way that no one else ever has. And now I’ve made him a constellation, so I’ll always have a reminder of what I should be striving to be.
But no one will ever know this. How I stabbed myself in the chest and am now bleeding out. His happiness is more important and since I could never give him the life he should have, this is the only choice. As long as Egon is fine, I’ll just let myself bleed dry.
TWENTY-SIX
EGON
I tryto convince myself that I’m fine. That it’s not a big deal if he doesn’t want me anymore. That he changed his mind.
But the questions bombard me as if they’re projectiles. Because I don’t know why. I don’t understand. How can I be a better person, one that Rake will want, if I don’t know what I did to make him stop wanting me?
Every conversation, every interaction, every text message runs through my mind and I can’t help but think that my advances were too strong. They were unwelcome. I pushed him. He felt pressured and obligated to be with me. And he finally had enough. He stood his ground and kicked me out.
All the times we had sex. Maybe it was only good for me? Maybe he didn’t like it? Did I not reciprocate enough? I didn’t know what I was doing, so maybe it wasn’t good at all? I’d never touched a guy before. I’d never even thought about it until Rake. It was my inexperience that pushed him away.
Or how pathetic I was when I realized the truth about Temca. Maybe he hates me for putting him in that position with Temca.
The thoughts swirl in my head as I curl more and more into myself, letting my tears run free. The sobbing has stopped because I don’t have the energy to cry quite so hard anymore. I stare at my phone, still clutched in my hand, begging for it to light up with something from Rake. A text. A call. Anything.
I need a reason. Any reason. It can be a lie at this rate, as long as I hear his voice and he sayssomethingto me.
It doesn’t come. My phone remains silent.
And I fall into a fitful sleep. The pain in my body amplifies as the time passes. My heart hurts. My head is pounding. My stomach sloshes around, making me nauseous. My lungs ache. My muscles shake.
“Egon.”
Something inside me tries to come alive. Attempts to wake up. But when my name is repeated, I know it’s not Rake, so whatever sparked dies immediately. I sink back into my hole.
“Fuck. Egon, look at me. Open your eyes.”
I know the voice. I’m fond of the voice. But I can’t convince myself to do as he says.
Hands brush my face. My phone is pried from my hands with little force.
“Come on, Egon. Wake up, mate. Look at me. Please.”
Only because he sounds so worried do I finally open my eyes. One of them. I peek. Caulder lets out a relieved breath. “Fucking hell. What happened to you? Where have you been?”
I don’t know what he’s talking about. I just saw him at the game that I fucked up. Where I failed. But I don’t have the energy to ask him what he’s talking about. So I close my eyes again.
“No. Don’t do that. You need to wake up, Egon. Tell me what’s wrong,” Caulder says as I let myself fall back into the pit of darkness. The only embrace that wants me. My misery. The hurt and heartache.
“Egon,” he insists, his voice low and strained. His hands are on my face. My chest. “Come on. Don’t make me call someone.”
“Call who? Coach?” someone else asks.
“What the fuck is wrong with him?” Jipson asks.
Caulder doesn’t answer. I don’t answer. I don’t have the strength to. He brushes my face again and I can feel the hair shift. I haven’t shaved in a while, I guess.
“Let’s get you into the shower. You’ll feel better.”
