Page 910 of One More Kiss

Tate

“Tate?”Victoria’s voice came from the other side of the bathroom door.

But I didn’t bother responding. I was currently sitting in the bathtub, fully clothed, no water, curtain pulled.

“Sweetie, I just want to know if you need anything and if you’re okay.”

“No,” I said as an all-encompassing answer. I had nothing else to give her. I’d cried most of last night. I’d had a complete mental breakdown this morning when I looked at my phone. And then, I proceeded to lock myself in the bathroom.

I had no idea how much a date could affect a person. How was that possible? Or maybe it was just me. It was May 2nd. Although it was just another day for most, for me, it was going to be a day that would forever feel like this. Like my world was crashing down. Like I was drowning. Today marked one year since Gran had died, and seeing that date on my phone screen drilled a hole into my already-gaping existence.

“Are you sure?” Vee’s voice was strained. She knew there was nothing she could do but wanted nothing more to be in here with me. “I need to go to class, girl. Your phone is out here. Do you want it?”

“Not really.” My heart was pounding in my chest.

There was a pause. Maybe a couple minutes. I’d assumed she’d left but then heard a shuffling noise.

“I’m shoving it under the door.” The sound of my phone sliding across the bathroom floor and bumping into the tub echoed through the small space.

A moment later, the front door opened and then closed. I was alone. Story of my life. I briefly wondered if she’d locked it, but I didn’t really care. If an ax murderer broke in, I’d just tell them the same thing I’d tell anyone else—take what you want and leave me the hell alone.

The silence was soothing. Safe. That feeling you get when the room you’re in is void of any other soul and yours is free to exhale and relax.

My phone dinged, the sound of a text, and I absentmindedly grabbed it off the floor.

Daniel.

I clicked it, my heart throbbing in my chest.

Daniel: How’s it going?

Without thought—because I wasn’t really in control of my brain anymore—I responded.

Me: I’m not okay.

I set down my phone and closed my eyes, ignoring the next ding and the next.

I’d never been a crier. I’d always tried to keep my emotions in check. It was easier to close people out when you did that. But right now, I needed to hurt. So, I let myself break. I brought my knees tight to my chest, wrapped my arms around them, and for what seemed like hours, I allowed myself to completely fall apart. I lost my marbles, as Gran would say.

When my tears had finally run dry and my body was spent from throwing an emotional tantrum, I slumped back against the tub, finally letting the numbness and indifference take me next.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway instantly had me on full alert. Maybe the ax murderer was here. My response would be a little different now. I’d tell them to take me away from here and make it quick.

I wanted to call out and ask who it was, but I stayed silent. The footsteps were heavy and moved with urgency. I knew it wasn’t Vee. She was always quiet when I was having an episode.

As the footsteps got closer to where I was, I sat up straight, trying to be as still as possible. The sound of the door handle had my heart pounding out of my chest as I braced for whoever it was. Then I heard his voice and a thousand emotions rained over me.

“Tate?” The sound of concern in the way he said my name caused my throat to constrict. “Can I come in?”

I swear to God I could hear that half-smile in his voice. Not a grin or a smirk, but just that lilt that I’d come to learn was part of him. I didn’t respond. I think I was in shock at the realization that he cared enough to come here when he knew I was like this. The door handle shook again, and a moment later, the door was open and he was inside.

Stupid old locks.

He opened the curtain and looked down, locking eyes with me. That half-smile I knew was there was like a shining light in the dark abyss I was currently in. He stepped into the tub and pulled the curtain closed behind him. His legs were long, so he had to tuck them around me, his feet on either side of me. My legs rested against his because there was nowhere else to go. The tub was older, a clawfoot, and deep. But not wide. There was a lot of body and not enough tub.

“You know…you’re supposed to stay on that side of the door. I stay on this side. You stay on that side. I would think that you of all people would know how this works.”

He scoffed, waving me off. “That’s for normies. But us damaged kids? We get front-row seats to the shitshow.”

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