Page 83 of Boots & Scars

I clenched my teeth, grinding them together so hard it felt like they might shatter.

She cares about you, the voice insisted.She loves you. Even after everything, she looked you in the eye and said she loved you. She may be ignorant, but she's a lot more fucking brave than you will ever be.

I knew this. It's exactly why I believed I didn't deserve her love. This was a good thing. She should be with someone else, someone worthy of her.

Is that what you want?the voice pressed.You want to see her holding hands with some asshole her own age? Want to seeher look at him with those big eyes like she looked at you? Like you were the goddamn moon?

Fury surged through me just thinking of her with anyone else. My vision blurred as my breath came in shallow gasps. The rage inside me boiled over, and I snatched my phone off the floor, throwing it against the wall with all my strength. The satisfying sound of it breaking echoed through the room.

The phone lay in pieces on the floor, its screen cracked and useless. It didn't fix anything. It didn't erase the image of Everly's tear-streaked face or her trembling voice saying she loved me despite everything.

My knuckles throbbed where I'd punched the mirror, blood still dripping onto the floor. I sank back down, resting my head against the bedframe. Every breath felt like a struggle, every thought a battle I couldn't win.

Why couldn't I just let her go? Why did I keep torturing myself with these thoughts? She deserved better—someone who wasn't a mess of scars and anger and regret.

But the idea of her with someone else twisted my gut into knots. Imagining her laughing, smiling, loving someone who wasn't me made my blood boil anew. It was selfish and wrong, but it was also true.

I pressed my fists to my temples, willing the torment to stop. It didn't matter what I wanted or how much it hurt; what mattered was what was best for her. And that sure as hell wasn't me.

The room fell silent except for my ragged breathing and the distant hum of traffic outside. The chaos around me mirrored the chaos within, but there was no escape from either.

All I could do was sit amidst the ruins and hope that one day, maybe, I'd find a way to let go—for both our sakes.

I steppedinto John Walker's office, my head pounding and my knuckles stinging from the earlier confrontation with the mirror. The door clicked shut behind me, and Walker looked up from his desk, eyes narrowing as he took in my disheveled appearance.

"The fuck happened to you?" Walker's voice cut through the silence, sharp and accusatory.

"I quit," I said, each word feeling like a weight lifting off my shoulders.

Walker furrowed his brow, leaning forward. "Excuse me?"

"I quit," I repeated, my voice firmer this time. "I'm not teaching any fucking skating class in two days. I… I can't be here."

Walker glanced at my hands, noticing the cuts and dried blood. "Does this have anything to do with why your knuckles are so cut up? What the fuck happened?"

I shook my head, already turning to leave. This conversation needed to end before it even began.

"Is this about what happened to Everly?" Walker's words stopped me in my tracks. My hand froze on the doorknob.

I glanced over my shoulder but said nothing.

"She asked for a ride home," Walker continued, "since Holly is still with her mother. I said I couldn’t, but now…"

"How—" I cut myself off. Asking about Everly felt like a trap I didn't want to fall into.

Walker sighed, frustration lacing his tone. "She doesn't eat lunch with her mother Saturdays, Sinclaire. What happened? Or does this relate to the?—"

"How the fuck should I know?" I snapped, anger flaring up again. "I'm not her keeper."

"No," Walker said slowly, almost contemplative. "And thank God for that. And yet, for some reason, she went to you after everything. She trusts you."

"Not anymore, she doesn't," I muttered under my breath.

"What did you do?" Walker's eyes bore into mine, demanding an answer.

"What her mother should have done," I spat back with a sneer. "What all of you should have done. I told her the truth."

For a moment, silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating. Then, without warning, Walker stood up and walked over to me, his footsteps echoing ominously in the small office.

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