Aftermath(59)

I smile when I say it, but he gives me a hard look and says, “Just because I never saw you cry doesn’t mean you never did.”

“Not as much as I do now.”

“And I curse more than I used to. People change.”

I choke on a laugh at that, and the tears threaten again as I say, “I’m so far from becoming an astronaut it isn’t even funny, Jesse. I’m not even sure I’ll go to college, because I have no idea what I’d do. I quit everything I loved, and I didn’t find anything to replace it. I just… am. I exist. I get through my days, and I thought that was enough, and then I came back here and remembered what I used to be, the dreams I had and…”

He hugs me. Puts his arms around me and hugs me tight. When he lets go, he says, “We kinda both lost our way, huh?”

“Kinda.”

He puts his fingers on my chin and tilts my face up, and his lips are parting to say something… or I think he’s going to say something, but there’s this little bit of me that hopes — My phone vibrates. It’s been vibrating for a while, and I’ve been ignoring it, but he hears it now and says, “Your phone?”

I want to tell him to forget that. What was he going to say? What was he going to do? But there’s no returning to that moment, not while he’s waiting expectantly.

I check the string of texts and wince. “It’s Mae. She’s heard about the suspension, and she’s freaking.” I hold my phone over the edge of the pavilion. “Think I can accidentally drop it?”

“Drop it, yes. Accidentally, no. And having already read her messages…”

I sigh. “Sure, be all mature about it.”

“One of us has to be.”

I start a retort, but I move too fast and teeter. He grabs me and hauls me back onto the roof, saying, “Careful.”

“I was being careful. Which means if my phone fell, it would totally have been an accident. Which you ruined. Spoilsport.”

“Next time I should let you break your neck?”

“Yep, teach me a lesson.”

“Never has before.”

“Um, pretty sure I’ve never broken my neck before.”

“Just your wrist. And your arm. And sprained both ankles.”

“Not all at the same time. I need to try harder.”

I look over the edge.

He laughs and grabs me. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Can’t stop someone from thinking.”

“Can sure try.”

I pretend to settle on the roof. Then I spring and leap over the edge as Jesse lets out a curse behind me. I hit the grass in a crouch and turn, grinning.

“See? Nothing broken. It’s not nearly high enough. Next time? Top of the school.”

He gives a deep sigh. “Believe me, Skye, you have not changed nearly as much as you think you have.”

I make a face and wave for him to jump. He crab-crawls sideways along the edge, tensing for a leap, and then changing his mind and trying a new spot.

“And apparently, neither have you,” I say. “Get your ass down here.”

He moves to the edge over the grass and jumps. He hits the ground and hisses in pain, dropping to a crouch, hands going to his ankle.

I hurry over and drop beside him. “Are you —?”

He tackles me, too fast for me to see it coming, and the next thing I know, I’m flat on my back, and he’s beside me, laughing.

“Too slow,” he says. “Still way too slow.”

I rise to sit. “I saw it coming.”

“Liar.”

“I was humoring you.”

“Such a liar.”

A phone sounds. It’s not mine. Jesse takes his out and curses.

“Let me guess,” I say. “Mae isn’t the only one who got a call.”

“Yeah.” He scrolls through texts. “Vaughn phoned my mom to report an ‘incident.’ He didn’t tell her what it was, only that I’d ‘gotten upset’ and cut my last class.”

“And she’s freaking?”

“Nah. Mom doesn’t freak. She’s just concerned. She wants to talk.” He sighs. “Vaughn won’t tell her about the steroids. But I have to. Get it over with.”

“Best thing.”

“I know.”

“She’ll understand.”

Another sigh. “That’s the problem. They’ve been so careful since… Jamil. Giving me space. Letting me work it through. Which seems great, but sometimes, what I really need is less handholding.”

“As someone with parents who aren’t there for me – can’t be or won’t be – I can tell you, it’s not any better. Whether it’s unwavering support or a kick in the ass, I think the only people who can give it to us are ourselves.”

“Or each other.”

I give him a quick hug. “Definitely each other. So let’s put out these fires and reconvene in cyberspace.”

Skye

When I open the condo door, Mae’s there with “Where have you been? I’ve been calling for hours.”

I bite my tongue against saying it’s been forty-five minutes since her first call and twenty since I texted her back.