Page 59 of The Other Side of Together

I blink through the haze in my head made of hope mixing with reality. End it. Now. If Marcus and I weren’t already hanging by a thread, Nick cut it, and what we had dropped to the ground and shattered along with my hope. Marcus would have eventually seen my world and ended things, anyway. He would never have understood. I don’t understand it either.

I hold my breath, stare at the screen that’s alive with Marcus’s words. But my stiff, cold fingers type, then slide over the send button:

Mei: I think we should take a break.

Another buzz:

Marcus: WHAT…? No. We just need to talk it out. I’m sorry I got mad and said things I didn’t mean. I talked to Meemaw and everything’s cool with her. We can work through this. Just please answer your phone.

My phone vibrates with an incoming call, and I put my hand over my heart so it can’t hear Marcus’s call, then quickly text before I lose my nerve:

Mei: I need some space.

My video chat beeps and Marcus’s picture grins at me so brightly I squint, then close my eyes and trap the picture, dropping my phone face down on the carpet to suffocate the beeps. Two seconds later, another text vibrates my phone, and I take a deep breath, flipping it over to see the screen.

Marcus: Literal space or figurative?

My chest tightens, but this is the only way to keep my hope dead:

Mei: Both.

I hurl my phone at the wall, hoping it shatters, then curl back into a ball.

A few minutes later, someone knocks on my window and I press my palms to my eyes, swipe at tears. Three taps—three times, pause, two more taps. Not any someone. Marcus.

Sitting up, I stare at the drawn curtains like I can sweep them aside with my eyes. My feet flex. All I have to do is open the window, tell him the truth. Run from here, go wherever he goes. But Nick’s darkness is all over me; I don’t want Marcus to see it, so I curl back into a ball on the floor, digging my nails into my arm until the knocking stops.

The bell rings and everyone in my calculus class pours from the room to start their three-day weekend. The seniors are going to Santa Cruz tomorrow for our final class trip. Most of them, anyway. I can’t step out of my apartment without worrying Nick’s guys are following me. They’re constant reminders of my consequences. Xander followed my bus to school today and I just hope Marcus made it home last night after he came to my fire escape. He’s been hurt enough by my mistakes.

I slip across the hall to the bathroom and lock myself in a stall. Taking a shaky breath, I pull my phone from my satchel, turn it on, and wait for the buzz that is Marcus on the other end. Not reading his texts for the last four hours is me putting space between us. Even though what I want is exactly the opposite and my eyes are starved for his words:

Marcus: Trying to respect your “SPACE” but withdrawals are killing me. Will you please call me? Text, note, whatever. Just talk to me.

I hold my phone to my heart like I can shove his words inside me, and close my eyes, swallowing a sob when it buzzes again, my heart beating toward it.

Marcus: MEIIIIIII!!!! *#@%, *#@$, *#@%!

We are not over. We’re not supposed to have an end remember?

I stare at my phone until the words go blurry. Marcus will eventually find the end, but right now, his texts are all I have, and I read them over and over until my phone buzzes again. I take a deep breath, letting it out before reading:

Marcus: I miss you so bad. Please talk to me.

A tear escapes and I swipe it away. If I could respond, I’d tell him ‘miss’ isn’t a strong enough word for what I’m feeling. Sorry isn’t a strong enough apology. I’d tell him I meant it when I said I loved him. That it hasn’t changed and never will. I’d tell him the reason for the secrets. If I was in charge, I’d never give Marcus a reason to run from me like I ran from him.

My phone rings and I silence it when Mmm blares from the screen. I stare at the beautiful letters, picturing the beautiful boy they belong to until the call goes to voicemail, joining eight other messages I’ve forced myself to ignore.

I burst out of the stall, clutching my phone, not caring which of Nick’s guys will be waiting outside the school to make sure I go straight home without any detours. I don’t care if I never make it home. All that’s there is fear and dread over going to L.A. with Nick next week and what my life will look like after that.

What I want is Marcus’s arms wrapped all the way around me until I am hidden in his safe, happy world. I want the tenderness of his lips on my neck that tell me exactly how he feels without saying a word. His laugh and the funny stories he tells me and the way he points out weird things I never would have noticed. Our hours of talking because we always have more to say but never enough time. His confidence. How he always wants to know my opinion and asks me a million questions. The way his brain works, and his smile when I walk into the room. How much he loves his dad. That he keeps the promises he makes. How, for one brief, shiny moment, he pulled me into his perfect world, not knowing anything about me, not caring when he found out I’m not safe or perfect. In that small moment, I felt what it was like to be perfectly happy.

I hurry down the hallway, past my classroom, past theoffices. Running from everything and toward nothing. My phone buzzes again and I veer toward a corner, look at the screen, the words squeezing oxygen from my lungs. I lean against a locker as what’s left of my heart crumbles:

Marcus: I love you Mei.

CHAPTER 22

Mei,

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