"You ungrateful bitch. I keep a roof over your head, and this is the thanks I get?"
"You could have killed her," I retort, trying to muster up confidence that I don't possess. "What if she goes to the cops, Dad? That bruise on her face is enough to...
Sorry the last chapter was so depressing. This one isn't any cheerier.
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The weeks following Jessica's Sweet Sixteen fly by. Before I know it, finals have been taken, lockers have been emptied out, and another year of high school is over.
I'm looking forward to summer vacation. It means I won't have to show my face at Starkton High, which means I don't have to worry about accidentally bumping into Jose.
My ex-boyfriend.
Things have been awkward since our breakup. The Monday after our tragic split, I almost greeted him with a hug out of habit. A few days later, he caught Evan teasing me and shoved him against a row of lockers. The feelings between us are still there. The love is still there. We're in the process of unlearning certain behaviors, and it's been harder than we ever imagined.
There are days when I'm okay, when I smile and laugh and hang out with my friends like a normal sixteen-year-old girl. These are the good days. I cherish these days. I keep them locked in a mental vault to remind myself that a happy version of myself exists, even if I can't find her.
Because on the days when I'm not okay, when I cry until my face is raw and scream into my pillow until no sound comes out, I open that vault. I think about Damian, Jessica, Gabby, even Ada. I think about the people who love me, the people who add color to my dark little world, and I know I'll be alright.
I miss Jose. He was all of my firsts. It was foolish to assume that he'd be my last, but that doesn't make me ache for him any less.
Today is the last day of school. Everyone is sitting on the quad, soaking in the summer sunshine and reveling in the fact that finals are over. I should be happy, but my thoughts are consumed by a certain brown-eyed boy. It should be a good day, but I fear it's a bad one.
Next to me, Damian and Jessica lie in the grass, their limbs entangled as they share kisses. After the party, they became inseparable. As my relationship with Jose deteriorated into a pile of dust and ash, theirs got stronger. They're a couple now. I guess Damian's four years of pining were worth it. In the end, he got the unattainable girl.
Jessica confided in me that she wanted to take things slow. She and Evan had a very physical relationship. She felt pressured to do a lot of things she wasn't ready for, things she wasn't comfortable with. She likes Damian, but she doesn't want to move too fast. She doesn't want to rush into bed with him.
"That's a wise decision," I told her. "You shouldn't go outside of your comfort zone just for a boy."
She shook her head and smiled. "You know, Layla, if you spend your whole life trapped in this self-made 'comfort zone,' you're not really living."
Her words resonated with me, and I haven't stopped dwelling on them since our talk. My self-made comfort zone is a protective bubble which I use to keep everyone—with the obvious exception of Damian, of course—at arm's length. It's why I only have two friends. It's why I spend more time manufacturing lies than making honest connections.
