Page 37 of Vicious Little Snakes
I let out a breath, pulling her arms from around me.
“I’m just done with her, Van. She’s toxic and doesn’t give a shit who she hurts.”Andit hurts too much.
I feel her fall back on the bed as she lets out a frustrated groan.
“That’s it, Liam? Toxic? We’re all fucking toxic. Have you met Grey? And me?”
“You asked, I answered,” I say, tilting my head up, feeling like I can’t breathe.
“Bullshit, Liam.” I look over my shoulder at her as she continues, “That reasoning is light at best. You forgive her for everything.” She points her finger at me. “In fact, it’s the one thing that makes me crazy. I never understood why you held her to a different standard. Then I started to think, maybe it’s because you felt sorry for her. But now—”
I’m on my feet, shoving my hands into the front of my hoodie as I walk into the expanse of Donovan’s room. I know she’s right. My reasoning is light. Because the cafeteria is just the straw that broke the camel’s back.
Donovan’s staring at me, watching me wander around aimlessly. I stand at her desk, taking a hand from the front pocket, moving some paperclips around as I think.
My fingers tap against the smooth surface, coming to a photo of the three of us as kids, next to one that she and Grey must’ve taken together recently.
How do I explain to someone who has their person? What do you tell someone to help them understand that each time you watch a piece of yourself fit with someone else, it breaks you? Caroline’s a piece of me, but I don’t ever get to be whole.
If I don’t hate her, I hate myself, and I don’t want to do that anymore.
“You can’t understand it, Van. I don’t feel sorry for her,” I say, breaking the silence. “I mean, sometimes I feel sorry for her, but I don’t pity her. I wouldn’t do that to Caroline.”
Donovan’s arms slip around my waist from behind, surprising me. Her head is pressed against my back as she squeezes.
“You won’t pity her, but you’ll punish her?”
I try to pry Van off me, but she doesn’t let go this time. Sometimes I forget we aren’t twelve anymore because in moments like this, Van is still the little girl with bangs that shields her eyes, and I’m the gangly curse-word sayer that needs a hug but pretends not to.
“I’m not trying to punish her, but Caroline and I have a complicated history. A history you weren’t around for and one I’m not explaining. Why are you suddenly a fan of Caroline’s anyway?”
I feel her laugh. “I’m not. But I’m a Liam fan. And I know you—maybe better than you know yourself, Brookie.”
I stand there wishing what she just said is true because then I wouldn’t be struggling to tell my best friend all of my fucked-up thoughts, knowing I never will. I lean my head back, laying it on top of hers.
“I know that I’m unfair, Van. But I can’t forgive her anymore. Don’t ask me why—I just can’t.”
She doesn’t say anything, but I can feel her breathing. It’s soothing. So I say more.
“Even if it’s fucking eating me alive.”
Donovan yanks on my hoodie, twisting me to look at her.
“Liam.”
Her brows are drawn in, a frown on her face. Donovan’s hands come to my fresh stubble on my cheeks.
“Talk to me. What are you holding on to so tight? This is me and you, Brookie.”
How do I do that, Van?Her eyes almost break the seal on my tongue, but I swallow all the words down. Maybe another day. I grin, leaning in to brush her nose with mine, trying to change the subject. “Hey, that was two—what’s excellent reason number three?”
Her expression doesn’t change as her cheek rests against my chest.
“You’ll break her heart.”
“She’d have to have a fucking heart to break. Plus, I only have room in mine for you.”
My lips brush the top of her forehead in a soft, chaste kiss. But she shakes my body, barely moving me, locking those big blue eyes on me.
