Page 149 of Go Luck Yourself
He holds me tighter, harder, until the pressure of his arms pushes a gasp out of my lungs, and that gasp is quaking and painful.
I see Iris, over his shoulder, and I stop fighting him.
She looksfurious.
Iris marches towards me and Coal glances to the side to see why she’s actually, physicallystompingon the floor, and she uses that opening to shove me in the chest.
I stumble back.
“Stop talking about my friend like that!” she shouts. “God, Kris, I amsickof you talking about yourself like you don’t matter. Like you have nothing to offer. Coal didn’t want you going to the reception today because heknowswhatever you’re writing up here is helping you findyourself again, and he didn’t want to interrupt that. And I came becauseyou’re my friend,and I wanted to talk to you about what you’ve been doing. This was all the same shit you said after you told me you loved me, and you kept saying it even when I tried to tell you that you were wrong,you are wrong. Sostop it!”
She shoves me again and I smack into the open closet door and hold there, gaping at her, all my anger wilting.
Coal’s hands clench and unclench at his sides. It’s unnatural for his face to look anything but goofy and smiling, so when he hits me with this heartbreak, it’s silencing.
He nods at Iris. “What she said. Who cares if what you’re doing doesn’t help Christmas? Doesn’tcontribute? I’ve told you, Kris. I’ve told you I don’t give a shit what you do as long as it brings you joy. You can be a part of this Holiday however you want, but if what you want to do, who you want to be doesn’t fit in with a standard role in Christmas, then fuck it. You’ll still be a part of this family, this Holiday. That will never, ever change.Do what makes you happy.”
A tear spills down my cheek and I let it fall, going limp against the closet door.
“Are youhappy?” Coal asks, tentative; he takes a step closer. “I wanted you to start choosing things for yourself. This”—he waves at my desk—“is what I want for you, if it gives you what you need. Does it?”
Yes. No.
Almost.
I shrug, trying to get the rest of this shirt buttoned but my fingers fumble it.
“I think it will,” I mutter.
“I want you at any event you want to go to—but Kris, what doyouwant to do, right now? Not for Christmas or me or anyone else. Fuck that, and fuck you for thinking that I don’t want you to be a part of this. You’llalwaysbe a part of this. You can’t escape me, ever.”
Coal grabs my hand where I’m uselessly prying at the buttons.
“I’m not leaving you.” He says each word deliberately. “Iris isn’tleaving you. And you know what? I hate the guy, like I’m seriously considering assassinating him with an icicle—no one would know, the evidence would melt—”
“Coal,” Iris breaks in.
“But I’m willing to bet Loch wouldn’t leave you, either.”
I flinch, shoulders hitting the door again. “He isn’t—”
Coal ignores me. “You’re worth staying for, Kristopher.You.Not what you have to offer people.Youare worth it.”
He’s so sure. So goddamn resolved. I can’t find it in me to argue, to shove aside anything he’s said, because he doesn’t lie. Not to me.
And so I let myself feel his words.
They drip down into my soul and gather in a sad, brittle puddle and I imagine a seed planting under them, something new and fresh, but it has roots, god does it have roots, and those roots pulse with that surety.
You’re worth staying for.
“But he did leave,” I whisper. “He left. And he lied. And I—”
“He didn’t leave,” Iris says. “Youleft him. Hefollowedyou. And yes, he lied about stealing Christmas’s joy. He lied about his uncle’s involvement. But can you honestly look at me and tell me you don’t get why he did? I only know a fraction of what shit his uncle put them through from what Finn has said—”
“You talk to Finn?”
“—and evenIget why Loch had to go to such drastic measures. Yeah, he should’ve told you. But is what he did something you can’t work past? Do you think he is, at his core, a liar and a manipulator, or is he someone who got in over his head and made a dumb mistake?”
