When Our Worlds Stand Still (Our Worlds #3)(73)

I twirl in my chair to remind my brain it couldn’t possibly be …

“What are you doing here? What about your game?” I ask.

“It’s impossible for us, because we sometimes don’t know what to do. Hell, sometimes there’s nothing we can do,” Graham continues. He steps into the circle of chairs and kisses the top of my head. “My game got over, and I rushed here. You’ll never be alone again, okay? I’ll always find a way to be here.”

I spring from the metal chair and wrap my arms and legs around him. He sways back and forth, me wrapped in his arms, shushing me as his hand runs over my hair. I hadn’t realized how important this was to me until I laid eyes on him.

“I love you,” I whisper into his shoulder.

“You have no idea,” he whispers back, setting me back down to earth. A chair magically appears beside mine, and we sit, hand-in-hand.

“You must be Graham,” Dr. Wilson addresses him.

“Yes, ma’am.” He offers her a smile, peers down at me, and then back at her.

“Would you guys like to go next?”

“I’m not exactly sure what I’m supposed to say or do.” His voice trembles. I place my hand over his forearm to assure him.

Dr. Wilson smiles. “Let me do this then. How about I ask you a few questions? Would that be okay?” Graham nods. “What do you know about Kennedy?”

“Everything, and nothing at all, if that makes a lick of sense.” Graham laughs awkwardly.

“It does.” Dr. Wilson nods. “Can you relive a moment where you witnessed Kennedy’s greatest strength?”

“Time Square, a week ago,” Graham says out loud, but it seems as though he’s speaking to himself. He gazes at me. “You are breathtaking every day of the week, Kennedy, but that day, you soared to the clouds. It was the moment I realized you would never allow anything to hold you back in this world.”

“I bled all over the cement. It dripped from me. Every insecurity, every self-doubt. Everything drained from my body in front of that crowd.” I close my eyes to remember.

The sky is dark, but life permeates through the space between every shop and building. They’re built up around us as shields from the unknown of what lies behind them. I wait for the melody to play through the speakers.

My head hangs low, stretching the muscles on the back of my neck. At the first piano key, my head springs up. I don’t see the massive crowd my presence has brought on. Instead, I see my past play out on the Jumbotron above me. My eyes stay locked as I allow every emotion the past four years of my life have brought on. Happiness. Fear. Beauty. Recklessness. Abandonment. Hate.

Love.

I spring forward until my body wraps around one of my classmates. He catches me midair, twirling with me in his arms. Our bodies tell a story, a story the audience is unaware of, but I know it’s there, hidden under every movement. By the second verse, my entire class has joined in telling my story to a crowd of strangers.

The girls are dressed in white, and the boys are draped in black. Each side tugs on my arm, fighting for my attention. It symbolizes the struggle of recovery, knowing which way your mind and body will lead you. The girls push forward until the boys are out of space around us. They circle me, hand-in-hand, protecting me from my demons.

My head leans back, my eyes glued to the sky as I twirl one last time. My leg extends high into the air, holding for a beat, and I fall to the cold, hard cement to a rush of applause and excitement.

“You were brave that day. A bravery I wasn’t sure you were capable of.” Graham’s voice breaks me from the memory. “After the …”

“Rape,” I finish the thought and see him swallow down the lump in his throat. I know how hard it still is on him.

“I envisioned you as helpless, and I’m not even sure why.”

“That’s completely normal,” Dr. Wilson explains.

“But you weren’t and never have been helpless. Day in and day out, even when it’s the most difficult, you’re the definition of strength.”

I dry the tears forming at the corner of my eyes, and squeeze his hand.

“Is there something you’d like to say to him?” Dr. Wilson asks me.

I look to Bea. She offers an encouraging smile as I turn back to Graham.

“There have been days since that night at Dan’s where I didn’t want to wake up. I prayed something miraculous would happen, and while I slept, I was freed from all the pain and suffering. Still, when I woke up the next morning, I knew there was a reason I survived another night.” I shake my head, fighting back every emotion to get the rest of this out. I aim my attention to Graham. “You.”

“I didn’t do anything, Kennedy. You did it all on your own.”

“Even so, I knew every morning I woke up a bit stronger, it was another day I allowed you to find me.” I rub the face of my compass charm.

“I’ve got to ask.” Graham looks ashamed. “Why didn’t you reach out to me? Why didn’t you try to bridge that gap?”

“Graham, I created this idea in my head that you didn’t need me anymore. As far as I was concerned, you were in Georgia, and we both know what I thought you were up to.” I pull my hand back and wring it with the other on my lap. “I guess, as more time passed, it became easier to believe you were the guy you always claimed to be. It would’ve made sense for you to move on, but somehow both of us held on in our own little way.”