Page 9 of Bleeding Hearts
I have twenty-seven days to come up with more money than I can earn in a lifetime. I try to focus my breathing like I saw online.
The first time I had a panic attack, I thought I was dying, but now it’s become second nature. I breathe through the quaking heart and tight muscles all while my mind spins.
How do I get that money?
I can’t in any legal way, that’s for sure, but I can’t lose this too. I just can’t. This is my home, it’s where I want to be, but more than that, it’s the only connection to Tommy I still have.
Climbing to my feet, I wander across campus, ignoring everyone until I find myself at Tommy’s memorial.
There are messages, pictures, flowers, and so much color it hurts my eyes, but not him. “I need you,” I whisper as I sink to my knees. “I’ve never needed you so much in my life. Why did you fucking do it? Why did you leave me?”
We were all best friends, but Evan always had this stubborn, independent streak that Tommy and I didn’t. We were stuck together, two halves of the same whole.
I never knew that love could be platonic until him. Everyone always talks of romantic soulmates, but I found mine in my best friend, and now he’s gone, and all that is left is anger and pain, and they want to take away the last connection I have to him too.
“I can’t do this without you,” I say as the tears fall. “I’m so fucking lost, Tommy. I don’t know what I’m doing or how to stop it, and now I’m going to lose everything, and I can’t fucking breathe. It feels like I’m still back there, fighting to survive. My heart never stops racing, even when I’m asleep, and I’m bleeding from a thousand wounds and nobody even notices.” My headbows as the sobs break free—ones I would never allow at any other time, but it’s all too much.
As I wrap my arms around myself for a moment, I swear I feel his as well, the roughness of his palms as he covers mine as he tells me that it’s okay.
But it’s not okay, and he isn’t here.
My eyes open, and I try to blink back the tears and swallow the pain like I have been. “What do I do?” I whisper. “I’d do anything. I can’t lose this place. I can’t lose you all over again.”
That’s what it comes down to. It feels like I’m losing him once more. It might be unhealthy and wrong, but I’d rather stay here, haunted by him and in pain, than move on and forget.
I can’t forget him, not like everyone else.
A door opens somewhere, and my head snaps up. I turn around to see who it is, but it’s just slamming open and shut in the wind. Sighing, I beg my heart to slow, even as I expect Mr. Ford to jump out and attack me. My eyes catch on something fluttering on the opposite wall.
It’s a poster, I realize. My eyes narrow, and I move closer, scanning the bold font across the front.
RISK.
My eyes widen as I look around. I’ve heard of their advertisement, but I never expected one to be here. I bet someone put it up before the cleaners came. It will soon be torn down. The school doesn’t want to speak of it or acknowledge it’s happening, but we all know it is.
Risk is a game, or so they say, for desperate or crazy people—just like me.
I go to ball it up when my eyes land on the print at the bottom.
Winner will receive one million dollars.
Everything in me goes cold as I reread those words. One million . . . It would be enough to pay my tuition.
Call it grief or desperation, but I rip the poster down, reading the information. I’ve heard of it at parties, and it seemed extreme, even for me, but I have no choice. The reward money will keep me here.
I glance back at Tommy’s memorial picture and swallow. “Okay, I got your message. It’s time to fight.”
I look at the poster once more.
Are you ready to risk it all?
I guess I am.
CHAPTER FOUR
I’m not in the mood to be social, but I don’t have a choice. A meeting was called, and I don’t want to let anyone down. I felt honored when I was brought into Silent Rose. It’s for rich kids and the elite, something I am not. Maybe that’s why I try so hard, offering ideas and helping all the time, as if to prove myself even though they never asked.
Slumping on the sofa next to Bones, I accept the cup and take a sip. Luckily, it’s juice and not alcohol, because I don’t think I could stand the taste or smell of it after Lally last night.
