“Then you’re as selfish as your dad says you are.”
Oh God. The look on his face stabs me so deep I can’t move. What the hell is wrong with me? I just wanted him to leave. I didn’t mean to break him. “Landen, I didn’t mean—”
“No, you’re right. I forced myself into your life before, and here I am doing it again.” He punches the door on his way out and I flinch at the sound. But then he turns back to check that I’m okay, and seeing his pain makes me want to run into his arms and apologize a hundred times.
“I’m fine,” I say, sounding overly defiant. Maybe because I know I’m not.
“For the record, I didn’t come here just because of what your EKG said. Or even because you think you’re going to die any minute. We’re all dying. We could all die any minute now. I could get hit by a bus on my way back to the dorm.”
“Don’t say that,” I whisper.
“Why not? It’s true. I came back because I need you. And I thought you needed me. But I can see now that you don’t, and that I was being stupid. And selfish, just like you said. Guess I should’ve been listening to the Colonel all along.”
He snorts out a sarcastic breath and steps out of the room. “Let’s go,” I hear him say to Skylar just before the door to our room slams shut.
“Sheknows,” I tell Layla’s Aunt Kate’s voicemail. “And she’s pissed. And hurt.” I almost add, “And she hates me like I said she would,” but it’s not like this is all her fault. I came willingly. I lied when given multiple opportunities to be honest. I’m the one who fucked up the most.
Naturally.
I don’t say anything else, because what is there to say? That Layla wants me out of her life because I’m a lying piece of shit? That I deserve it because I fucked her, knowing we should’ve told each other everything first? That I should have let her decide if she really wanted me before taking it to that level?
What’s the point in telling her all of that? It won’t change anything.
After pounding myself into the concrete during the mind-numbing eight-mile run I took after practice, I shower and lie on my bed. There has to be a way to fix this. A way to make her see that I did what I did because I want her so badly. Because I love her more than I even knew I was capable of. I love my mom, yeah. Who doesn’t? But how many times did she turn her back while the Colonel shouted about what a pathetic waste of human life I am? How many times did she keep quiet when he punched me, shoved me against the wall, or flat-out told me I’m nothing?
So many I lost count, that’s how many.
Somehow, with her quiet intensity, her strength for dealing with all the shit life threw at her, Layla came out better. Stronger. Seeing her deal with her loss and her seizures made me realize I couldn’t let the way my dad was rule my life. I wanted to be better than that. Better for her.
And now I’m right back in the hell that is life without Layla.
“Dude? You coming?” Skylar pokes his head into the dark room.
“No, I’m not.” The bus is leaving for our game in Washington in less than an hour.
“Uh, I don’t exactly think it’s optional.” I can feel his disgust that I’m acting like such a pussy but I couldn’t care less. I’m used to disappointing people.
“I’m a walk-on. They can fuck themselves.”
He pauses, hovering in the doorway. “All right, man. I’ll tell coach you’re sick or something.”
“Whatever.”
He shuts the door and leaves me alone in the darkness.
Twoweeks go by, and Layla leaves me in silence. I’ve gone to Intro to Academics every day only to find Corin there, telling me to be patient and give her some space. I’ve been escorted out of Campbell Hall by her RA twice, and her voice mailbox is so full that no one else can leave a message now.
I’m out of ideas.
I’ve been running so much and working out so hard that I’ve outscored Taite at every practice. I’ve started over him in our last two games, even though I refuse to go to away games. I’m not leaving her, no matter what. Even Taite’s gorilla, Blackburn, has backed off. The whole team, and probably the coaches too, know I’m losing my shit a little. And no one wants to be responsible for me flying off the damn hinges.
After team workouts, the trainer removes the stitches from my arm. It will scar, he says. No shit. I’m scarred, all right. Marked with physical evidence of the permanent damage losing Layla Flaherty has left on my life. I stay in the weight room after the trainer leaves and decide to max out on every damn machine in there. Physical pain tends to be the only thing to take my mind off the other kind.
“Killing yourself won’t make her want you back,” Skylar says from behind me.
I almost drop the damn weight I’m holding. “I thought I was alone.”
“You will be if you don’t get your shit together.”