Page 59 of Take Care, Taylor
Lying next to me, she stared up at the porthole above us.
“I’d never seen my mom cry before tonight,” I said. “My dad cheated on her, and I don’t think she’ll ever be the same…”
“She might end up being better.”
“How could you possibly think that?”
“Because she’ll never let anyone hurt her like that again, and she knows the truth about promises.”
I looked over at her, confused.
“They’re just words with good intentions,” she said. “They’re still capable of being broken.”
Silence.
“Hey, Audrey?”
“Yeah?”
“I can make you a promise that I’ll never break.”
“Don’t threaten me with your suicide and no follow-through.”
“I promise I’ll hate you forever.”
“I’ll hold you to that…”
For a long time after that night, I believed I meant it.
Until her name started sounding a lot more like a promise I never should’ve made.
TRACK 23. HITS DIFFERENT (5:13)
AUDREY
That kiss never happened.
At least, that seemed to be the story we were both sticking to.
We passed each other in hallways and lectures like polite strangers, pretending the air between us wasn’t thick with everything we hadn’t said. It wasn’t tension so much as static—sharp, constant, ready to spark if either of us breathed wrong. The only time it eased was when he went off to do something for the team.
It was a weird dichotomy—seeing his face in headlines one minute and across the table the next. Not that I was checking for his name every day or anything; I was too busy. Way too busy. Still, there was something dizzying about reading his quotes online, then hearing his laugh echo from the next room, like the world couldn’t decide which version of him belonged to me.
Knock it off, Audrey. He didn’t belong to you.
The library had become my escape—from him, from the way my brain kept replaying that night, from the silence that sat between us like a third roommate.
I’d been pulling an all-nighter to finish my work, still in the navy dress I’d worn to my afternoon seminar, surrounded by thesoft hum of lamps and the smell of paper and coffee—things that didn’t ask questions and didn’t look at me like they knew better.
A redhead moved in front of my table and cleared her throat.
“Do you mind if I sit here?” She sat down before I could answer. “This is like the best spot on the pier. Don’t you think?”
“Yeah.” I smiled and extended my hand. “I’m Audrey.”
“I know who you are,” she said. “I’m Samantha.”
“Nice to meet you.”
