Page 111 of Never Will I Ever

“I know.” My lungs ache from the pain I know I’ve caused him. Pain I wish, more than anything, I could take back. “If it makes any difference, I would’ve much rather been there for the rest of the summer instead of here.”

“Then why did you leave?”

My teeth sink into my cheek before I murmur, “It’s…complicated.”

“It was your dad, wasn’t it?” his disembodied voice asks. “I saw him by the lake the same day you left. Well, I didn’t know it was him. I had to ask Kaleb who it was.”

Just hearing Kaleb’s name is a shot to the heart. One I’m not prepared for in the slightest, nor for the way it steals all the air from my lungs. My eyes sink closed, and I drop my head to my chest, attempting to breathe through the pain of my own making.

And God, it hurts.

Lovefucking hurts.

Clearing my throat, I somehow manage to find my voice, but it comes out only as a sullen whisper. “Yeah, it was my dad. The whole plan was his idea.” I pause and swallow, the truth tasting like bile as it leaves my lips. “But it’s still my fault. I’m the one who went along with it.”

“Why?”

Because I’m a coward, lying down and submitting.

The funny thing is, it’s not Shame screaming this in my head; it’s my own thoughts. The same ones that have been playing on repeat since Kaleb told me to go and not look back.

And it’s a choice I’ve regretted ever since.

Knowing the whole truth is far too heavy for a kid Elijah’s age; I offer him a sugar-coated version of it instead, framing it in a wayhe’s sure to understand.

“Pretty much the same reason you keep going to camp. I did it to make him happy.”

Even if it cost me my own, apparently.

Happiness doesn’t seem to exist without Kaleb. Not anymore. Not when I know what it feels like to be so obscenely, disgustingly filled with joy because of him. All the things that used to give me some sort of serotonin boost just feel bland in comparison. Dulled to a shade of gray.

There’s nothing like him.

Elijah’s voice calls on the other end, breaking through my thoughts.

“Avery? Are you still there?”

Shit.

Clearing my throat, I mutter, “Yeah, sorry. I’m here. Uh, what’d you say?”

“I told you that I understood why you left,” he relays. “And then I asked you if we’re still friends even though I kinda yelled at you.”

I roll my lips in to contain my chuckle. “Of course, kid. You’re one of the best friends I’ve got.”

It’s not until the words are spoken that I realize how true they are. It might not make much sense, but somehow, Elijah and I are cut from the same cloth. A little bit insecure, a lotta bit weighed down by parental expectations.

My only hope is that he pushes back and fights for what he wants. He could end up like me if he doesn’t, and that’s the last thing I want for him.

Elijah lets out a long sigh. “I thought you’d be mad at me for yelling at you. I’m glad you’re not.”

“I couldn’t be mad at you for telling me how you were feeling.”

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t like saying the hard things, though.”

My brows furrow. “The hard things?”

“Yeah, you know,” he insists softly on the other line. “The things that people won’t like to hear. Or the things that kinda scare me to say.”

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