Page 86 of Did They Break You

Nope.

I pocket my phone and walk through the treeline. It’s been almost a week since I’ve talked to Remi, and she hasn’t responded to my texts either, but now I know her schedule, her routine.

I think about the newest cut on her arm I saw last week after therapy.Someone has to take care of you, Remi, because you suck at taking care of yourself.

It doesn’t take but a second to spot her.

There’s one streetlamp out here, and the light is dull, but since she’s the only person here, it’s enough.

Her orange hair is piled in a messy bun, her knees to her chest, back to me.Just like last time. Almost as if she’s waitingfor me.She’s sitting on a bench that faces out toward the cemetery, silent, a book at her side. As my sneakers sink into the soft grass across from the paved path that circles the graveyard, I think about turning back. Disappearing into the trees and leaving her alone, or watching over her, unseen.

I flex my jaw, closing my eyes a second, facing a hard truth.

I can’t stay away from her.

I want to dig my nails into my skin again with the thought. She’s bad for me, just like that pain is. Because being near her, seeing her fear, the way she fights against wanting me, I have to face other hard truths too.

That maybe that night didn’t go how I thought it went.

Besides that, right now, she looks like prey.I told you wolves have teeth, Remi.And I’m actually not the worst one.

I say nothing at all as I walk around the bench, coming to stand right in front of her.

She sits up straighter, her golden eyes staring up at me.

Her phone is in one hand, a black backpack beside her on the bench, the book splayed open next to it.

For a moment, we just look at each other.

“Why am I always finding you alone in stupid positions?”

She extends her legs, her white shoes on the ground, phone clenched tight in her hand as she grabs for her book. She shoves it into her backpack but not before I see there’s blood on the cover art. She starts to stand, but I step closer, push her back down, my hand on her chest.

She glares up at me, her lips pressed together. I can feel her pulse flying beneath my palm.

I smell marijuana as I lean down close to her. “Do you just enjoy me stalking you?”

The new fire flashes in her eyes. “Is that a confession?”

I laugh, pressing her further against the bench. “No.”

I feel her chest heave beneath my hand. “I want you to leave me alone, Cortland,” she says fiercely, even though her voice is hoarse. “I don’t know why you’re here, and I don’t care, but I want you to leave me alone. I promise I won’t cause a scene and I won’t try to…” She swallows down emotions, her voice breaking. “I won’t try to do anything, okay, Cortland, just please…” She closes her eyes, and my chest tightens, seeing her like this, pleading with me, some of that fire going out. “Whatever you think we’re doing, we can’t do it anymore.”

For a minute, there’s just the sound of the traffic past the barrier of trees surrounding this place. She doesn’t make another sound, and neither do I.

But then I step closer, and her eyes fly open.

I drop to my knees, place my hands on her jeans. They actually fit, even though she’s still wearing that baggy hoodie. Like she’s drowning in clothes, trying to hide.

I feel her tense beneath my palms, and she rears back, still clenching her phone and her backpack by the top strap.

“You smoking out here by yourself with your ghost friend?” I ask her softly.

I think about when I first saw her outside of the student service’s building and realized…she goes to therapy, too.And it still isn’t enough. It still isn’t helping.

Just like it doesn’t help me.

My fingers flex against her thighs and her breath leaves her in a rush. “You want to forget about me?”

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