Page 101 of Habits

School just started back again, and this is the first time I’ve heard back from Jeanette since the party, or technically even before that.

I thought about going to her house but didn’t want to risk stumbling upon Max. To be honest, after how everything ended on New Year’s Eve, I expected him to come to my place to get to the bottom of what happened, but he never did. I’m not sure what to think of it. Had Jeanette said something to him? Did something happen so he couldn’t come? I wasn’t sure what to think or do, but since I hadn’t heard of anything happening to either of them, I just accepted it and moved on, figuring I’d see them when we returned back to school. Only today when I entered the cafeteria and there was no sign of either of them, the worry returned in full force.

And then the cryptic message.

What did she want to talk about? Me being an asshole on Christmas Eve? Her getting drunk on New Year’s? I wasn’t sure, but I guess I’ll find out sooner rather than later.

The library is quiet when I go in, just a student here and there, all too immersed in their own work to pay me any attention.

I walk through the quiet rows, going all the way back, where the space is a little darker and the dust is just a tad thicker because nobody really comes around much.

Staying alert, I watch around in case anybody’s following me or just seems lost between the shelves of books in search of something. Whatever Jeanette wants to talk to me about, I’m sure I don’t want anybody around to hear it.

Finally, I get to the very back corner of the library. The place I took her and everybody else—Derek, Max, Lia and Brook—while we were staying at the school for the senior sleepover. She’s sitting on the floor, cross-legged. Her dark hair is straight today, falling over her face as she looks down and writes something in the little notebook in her hand.

Stopping in my tracks, I take a few seconds just to look at her. The way her hair throws a shadow over her face and how the very tip of her tongue peeks out as she concentrates on whatever she’s writing.

She looks so beautiful it hurts. I want to extend my hand and let my fingers brush the strand of her hair that’s falling in her face behind her ear so I can lean down and press my lips against her soft skin. The feeling is so real, I can almost taste her on my lips.

But the last time I touched her, she ran away.

I inhale deeply, trying to calm down, but her smell fills the small space. Jasmine and orchid mixed with the dust and the smell of old books.

Strong.

Overwhelming.

My exhale is long and shaky, making her snap out of her world.

“Oh, hi,” she says, looking up at me.

Closing the notebook, she lets it fall in her lap, and one of her hands reaches out to brush the hair behind her ear.

“Hi,” I rasp, holding back the urge to touch her.

“You came.”

I shrug, leaning against the shelf. “You wanted to talk.”

“Yes, yes I did.”

Her gaze falls down to the notebook in her lap, and suddenly a sense of dread washes over me.

Is she going to break up with me? Are we even together? Were we ever actually together? Or did I fuck it up? I always fuck shit up. My mom left me, and my dad is barely around and now … now she’ll leave, too. I can feel it.

My throat constricts, and it’s hard to breathe.

“I know we …”

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out, but I can’t hold it inside anymore. I can’t. “I know I’ve said it a dozen times before. I never say sorry to anybody else, but when it comes to you it seems like I’m always doing the wrong shit, which leads to endless apologies, but I mean it, Jeanette. I really mean it. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did, I shouldn’t have asked you to leave that night, but you were there. In my space, space that has always belonged just to me, and you fit so perfectly I got scared. I got scared and I chased you away by doing what I do best–hurting people. Hurtingyou.

“And I most definitely shouldn’t have let Diamond come and flirt with me, but we both know I’m a stupid jackass when it comes to stuff like that. I do things I shouldn’t because I don’t think, and in my selfishness, I hurt the people I care about. So, I’m sorry.”

I run my hands through my hair, looking at her. “Please, say something.”

Her beautiful eyes look at me, and there is stillness in them, so much stillness something in me snaps.

“You asked me here to break things off with me.”

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