Page 94 of To Love or to Lose
“Do you know how many girls I know who are named Gen? Lots.” It was true. “But how many go by Genevieve?”
She doesn’t answer; she knows it was a rhetorical question.
The answer?None.
“Do you know the legacy you could leave with a name like Genevieve? A name like no other?” She falls silent. I knew she would. “I won’t let you ignore yourself.Iwon’t ignore you, Genevieve.”
139 days until graduation
I wake up much more oriented than I felt last night. Looking down, I see that my hands and knees have been wrapped in bandages. They weren’t like that last night. The next thing I register is Jameson standing over me, holding a pair of scissors and a roll of the bandages that are plastered to my hands.
“What are you doing?” I ask, sitting up and rubbing my hands over my eyes.
“I figured that, if you’re going to be skiing, you’ll need new wraps on your hands,” he says, taking a step back.
Looking at him now, Jameson looks like a completely different person from the one I saw last night.
“Thank you,” I say, my eyes watering with unshed tears as I look around the hotel room, as I look at Jameson.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, taking a step forward. “Are you in pain?” He leans over me, examining my bandaged hands before looking at my head. “Seriously, Genevieve.”
He’s closer now. I can feel the air stiffening between us as he waits for a sign of why I’m nearly crying.
I’m not even thinking clearly, which may have to do with my concussion, but I feel the overwhelming need to tell Jameson I’m sorry.
Instead, I reach my arms up and they fall around his neck. I pull him down, making one of his knees hit the bed as I hug him closer.
“What—”
“I’m sorry.” My voice cracks as the first of my tears fall down my cheek. “God.” I wipe my eyes roughly. “I’ve been such a bitch, and you’ve tried so hard to be nice to me, and I’ve just continued to antagonize you, and that’s not fair.”
“Genevieve—” He tries.
I put my hand over his mouth. “Please, let me finish.” He nods, and I drop my hand. “I’m sorry you’ve had to put up withmy back and forths, and I’m sorry I haven’t given you a chance to prove yourself.”
A sob racks through my body, and I feel Jameson’s hands wrap around my shoulders. “It’s okay.” He shushes me. “You’re okay.”
“It’s not okay,” I tell him, pushing him by the shoulders so I can look him in the eye. “It’snotokay, Jameson. I’ve been putting up this whole fight about Valedictorian knowing it won’t do anything to change the situation. Which is so…stupidand trivial.”
“It’s not trivial, Genevieve. Your feelings were hurt, and you needed somewhere to put the blame. I’m not upset at you for that,” he says, running his hands up and down my back. “We’ve both been hurt by each other, and there’s nothing either of us could have done to change it.”
“I could have been nicer to you,” I admit. “I haven’t been acting like myself. This mean and resentful front I’ve been putting on around you, it isn’t me.”
“I know that,” he replies. “And I’ve been the same way, Genevieve.”
“I deserved it.” I wipe more fallen tears. “You had every right to say what you said to me.”
“Hey.” He runs his hands through my hair. “Don’t pretend I hadanyright to say what I did. That wasn’t okay, love, and none of what I said reflects how I feel about you.”
“Thank you for helping me last night,” I mutter. “I know how mad you’ve probably been at me, and you didn’t have to help me, but you did.”
“It doesn’t matter how mad I’ve been. The moment I saw you bleeding on the floor of the hallway, I didn’t have a choice but to help you,” he says. “There was never a doubt in my mind that I was going to bring you back to this hotel room and do whatever I could to help you.”
“This isn’t supposed to be this easy,” I groan, leaning my head back against the headboard, making Jameson stand. “You’re supposed to be mad at me.”
“You know as well as I do that we’ve both spent way too much time being mad,” he responds, walking over to his bag.
It’s then that I realize I’m still wearing my clothes from yesterday—my skirt covered in blood—and I probably never brushed my teeth.
