I’m trying to be hopeful and seeing the future. Kelsey will get better and the cancer won’t come back. She’ll live a long healthy life, get married, have kids and be a grandmother. She’ll be okay.
It’s all I want to know. That she’ll be okay.
“You okay?” Logan asked sliding into the elevator I just got into before the doors closed. Dammit. I’ve been trying to avoid him for awhile now. It’s like everywhere I go, he’s there. And he’s always trying to analyze me. It’s annoying as fuck.
“I’m fine,” I said staring at the floor.
“Are you hungry?”
“I’m meeting Aimee downstairs.”
Aimee and I went up to her room for a bit then she decided to throw out the trash but she never came back. She texted me to meet her downstairs in the dining hall. She even told me not to get excited because Keller isn’t down there. Like I give a shit. Honestly, I don’t. If I’m horny and he’s around then I’ll care.
I told her about the whole name thing so she calls him Keller. She knows his real name but since she knows I don’t want to know it, she calls him Keller.
“She can wait,” Logan said pressing the tenth floor button. We’re currently passing the eleventh so the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. “Come on,” Logan said grabbing my hand and dragging me out.
“I don’t have a lot of time,” I said. “I need to eat and then go to work.” He came to a stop in front of the elevators and pressed the up button. Uh... I don’t know what he’s thinking but his room is upstairs...and Aimee hasn’t stopped trying to get us together. “Um, Logan, I’m really hungry.” Which isn’t a lie. I barely ate anything today.
“It’s just five minutes,” he said pressing the button even more.
You can get a lot done in five minutes, I wanted to say.
An elevator opened and we walked in. That’s when I noticed he’s still holding my hand. I looked down and stared at his fingers covering mine. My sweater’s arms aren’t that loose so if his fingers ride up a bit, he’ll feel my scar. Shit.
I slipped my hand out of his and crossed my arms over my chest as I waited to be taken to the twenty-second floor. When the elevator doors opened, Logan walked out and as much as I wanted to stay behind and be brought back downstairs to the ground floor, I walked out. His room is on the twentieth floor. We’re not doing anything then.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“It’s a surprise,” Logan said walking toward a door.
My eyes widened when I saw it was the door leading to the roof. It’s locked at all times (that’s what I hear) but Logan turned the knob and there it went.
I somehow managed to follow him outside and here I am...standing on the roof, looking out at Boston.
I can fucking laugh at the irony of this.
Who brings a suicidal person onto a roof?
“I still don’t know what we’re doing up here,” I said, confused.
“Close your eyes,” Logan said softly.
I just stared at him. I am not falling for that. He can push me over, leave me out here and make me do it myself or worse...he might kiss me again. He hasn’t done it since I kneed him in the balls but that doesn’t mean he won’t do it again.
“Trust me,” he said stepping behind me. He placed his hands on my shoulders and started walking me toward the edge. “Close your eyes.”
“Don’t push me,” I whispered.
“I won’t. I promise.”
My breath caught in my throat when I looked down and saw how high we are. Shit. This is fucking scary. I don’t want to keep looking down. I want to turn around and leave. I want to go–
Logan squeezed my shoulders a bit and I shivered.
I slowly closed my eyes and let the wind whip around me. The noise below us were mostly blocked out and it was relaxing. It’s cold. Only seems right, it’s October.
Logan slid his hands down my shoulders until he got to my elbows. I have no idea what he’s doing but it feels nice. Then he started spreading my arms apart. Wider. Wider. Until they were extended all the way.
I can picture how this looks.
Anyone who has watched Titanic has seen the boat scene where Rose and Jack stand on the railing on the front of the boat and Rose looks like she’s flying. I’d say that’s what I look like right now. That’s how I feel.
You were born to fly, Becka. Don’t let anyone stop you.
I’m smiling. A really big, idiot looking smile.
I opened my eyes and shook Logan’s hands off me. I took a step forward and I jumped. I’m flying. I’m–
My eyes shot open and I gasped. Fuck! I turned around and found Logan looking at me like I ran over his foot.
“Rebeckah–”
I ran past him and ran back into the building where I didn’t stop. Why did he bring me up there?! Why did he let me feel free?! Like I was flying.
I haven’t had a bad thought in weeks and then I had one. I fucking pictured throwing myself off the roof. When Dad told me I was born to fly, he didn’t mean off buildings. My sick twisted mind turned those words against me.
I ran down the stairs and ignored Logan calling out to me as he followed. I don’t run a lot but I know running down twenty-two flights of stairs will kill me.
Bring it.
No!
I shook my head and kept going.
Twenty. Eighteen. Seventeen.
Every time I look for a number, it’s going down.
Fifteen. Thirteen. Ten.
I can’t breathe. My head is spinning.
I stopped.
My phone is ringing.
My heart is beating at a really fast pace.
I’m going to die.
Alice died. Why did you live?
It should have been you.
It should have been you, Rebeckah!
Hands grabbed me. A voice talked to me. I stopped moving. The world stopped spinning. The ringing stopped.
“Breathe, Rebeckah.”
So I did.
I closed my eyes and I leaned into the person holding me. I focused on the pounding heartbeat mirroring mine. I touched it. I felt the thump-thump-thump beat against my hand. The rise and fall of a chest. The warm breath on the back of my neck. The warm fingers wrapped around me.
I took a deep breath.
Another.
Thump-thump-thump.
Thump-thump...thump.
Thump...thump.
I curled my fingers into my palm and I felt my legs get their strength back. I’m not standing. If I was, my legs wouldn’t be so close to my chest.
I opened my eyes.
I’m curled into a ball on someone’s lap.
I looked left.
I’m curled into a ball on Logan’s lap.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
It took a second for me to piece together that I’m sitting on his lap and he’s holding me against him as he’s sitting on the stairs. When my mind completely understood it, I pushed his arm off me and I stood up.
“I’m fine,” I said dryly.
I will not talk to him about my fucking problems.
I started walking down the stairs again when Logan grabbed my arm. He held my eyes for the longest time, probably thinking of a new test to do on me.
“Take the elevator,” he said.
For the first time since we met, I didn’t roll my eyes or bitch at him. I just followed him past the door and into an awaiting elevator without another word.
My hands are shaking so bad that crossing my arms over my chest did nothing. I tried biting my fingernails but that proved useless when I couldn’t even bring my fingers near my mouth.
Logan reached out and grabbed my hand.
The shaking slowed down a bit.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
I can’t even look at him. Not after what just happened on the stairs. No one besides my family has seen something like that happen and he just did. He saw me freak out and lose it. And he di
dn’t leave me. He stayed and helped me. No one should have to be forced into helping me.
“I didn’t think you’d freak out,” he said softly.
My hand stopped shaking.
The elevator stopped on the ground floor but we didn’t move. He has to let go of my hand but he’s not doing it. I have to move my legs but I can’t.
I don’t think I can leave this elevator. My mind is playing tricks on me. It’s thinking of ways to hurt myself when I have the chance. Maybe walk out of the elevator and head into the trash room where I can squeeze myself into the trash chute and end up getting crushed as the dumpster comes by. Maybe head into the dining hall, steal a knife and head into the bathroom. Maybe just do it in front of everyone. Make blood drip on the floors and let everyone see me bleed out. Dying. Or maybe run out of the building and get hit by a car.
I closed my eyes and fought the urge to cry.
“Rebeckah.” Goddammit, he needs to stop talking. But I like it. Ugh, I’m so screwed up I can’t think straight! I chanced it and looked at him.
“I’m scared…” I said, my lip trembling.
His blue eyes softened.
“Of what?”
I looked down at our hands. This is keeping me from moving. He’s keeping me from hurting myself.
He’s keeping me grounded.
“Of what I’ll do once I walk out,” I said softly.
His fingers tightened around my hand as he walked me out of the elevator. He knows something is wrong with me. Logan knows that I’m utterly fucked up.
Who says they’re scared of what they’ll do if they walk out of an elevator? Crazy people. Me. I say shit like that.
He must know I’m suicidal now.
He can just do a test on me and he’ll know.
We walked down the corridor, past a glass door. I thought we’d go to the dining hall but Logan walked me out the second glass door, outside.
“Give me your phone,” he said.
I used my free hand to reach into my bag and handed it to him. He started thumbing away at it as we walked down the sidewalk toward the street.
“You’re not working tonight,” Logan said handing me back my phone. “Peyton says it’s fine. It’s a slow day anyways.”
I was going to ask how he knows about Peyton because I never tell Logan anything, when I thought about it. Aimee. I tell her about work and since Logan is her twin, they share everything. I’m pretty sure Logan has a record of Aimee’s last two periods. That’s how close they are.
We walked toward the twins’ car and Logan held the door open for me. My eyes zeroed in on the small pair of scissors in the cup holder. It’s sharp enough to pierce skin. It could do its job on my scar. Quick and easy.
My eyes shot to Logan’s and he saw it.
He glanced at the scissors then me then the scissors again. He reached into the car, took them then told me to get in. I went in like a scared dog. As soon as he closed the door, I leaned against it looking for an escape but not finding one.
Logan got into the car and auto locked the doors. At any other time I’d say something about this being majorly creepy but right now, I sighed in relief. I can’t open the door and jump out while he drives.
I grabbed the seatbelt and my hands started to shake again as I tried to buckle it in. I can just wrap it around my neck and squeeze. Lose air. Suffocate. Turn purple. Scr–
Logan grabbed my hand and buckled the seatbelt in.
He started the car and pulled onto the street.
I rested my shaky hands on my lap but when my eyes landed on my left wrist, the urge was back.
No! Please go away! Just be normal. Stop thinking about it!
I turned my hand over and dug my fingernails into my jeaned legs. It didn’t help but at least I’m not cutting a vain open. I’m not doing any real damage.
“You’re not the kind of girl that counts calories, are you?” Logan asked glancing at me. He saw my fingers dig into my lap so he reached for my hand again.
It’s weird how he keeps doing it.
And it’s weird how I let him.
“No,” I said staring out at the road.
“Good. Then burgers it–”
He stopped talking when his pinky slid across my scar.
My eyes widened. I curled my right hand into a fist and my toes curled with it. Fuck! I slid my hand out from his and rubbed my thigh up and down a few times until he reached for it again.
Our eyes met but for the first time in my life, I was embarrassed. Ashamed. I never thought I’d live another day when I slit my wrist. So I cut deep. I didn’t cry out in pain or start to panic. I stared at the open skin and the blood running out and I thought about Alice. She went through the same thing. I should have died. So I was making up for it.
The first mistake I did was cutting horizontally. I should have done it vertically. It would have been faster. Second mistake was doing it at the wrong time. I thought everyone would be at the hospital for Kelsey. She just started to get prepared for treatments so she’s been away for long periods of time.
I was wrong that day.
Everyone just went to grab pizza.
I spent most of my time taking a shower so the creepy morgue guy wouldn’t have to stare at me longer than necessary as he washed me.
Literally one minute and twenty seconds after I cut myself, Dad knocked on the door. “Pizza’s nice and hot, Birdie. Don’t make us wait,” he said with a smile in his voice. Three seconds passed by when I started to panic. He saw the note. Ten. Fifteen. Feet hitting the hardwood floor and the sound of wood cracking made me drop the blade. Dad burst into the bathroom, ran to me and grabbed me. When he saw my wrist, he starting crying. I’ve never really seen my dad cry so when I did, I said I was sorry. Over and over again. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my wrist. He drove me to the hospital as everyone started to panic. They saw the note. The small blue post-it I left on my bedroom door saying ‘I love you.’ I should have left it on my bed.
The pizza went stale and no one ate it after that.
“Burgers fine?” Logan asked bringing me back to now.
I nodded as I slumped in my seat.
Logan drove to a burger place nearby, brought me inside to order and then headed back to the car to drive somewhere else to eat. He parked in an empty parking space nearby where the only other people were drunks sitting at a bench fifty feet away.
“You bring all the crazy girls you know here?” I asked picking at a fry. I unwrapped my burger when I felt Logan staring at me. I looked up and sure enough, he was. “Please don’t do that,” I said dropping my eyes to my lap.
“Do what?” he asked trying to find my eyes.
I picked at another fry and chewed on it for the longest time. Logan knows what he’s doing. He’s seeing me as his project. Picking at me to see where everything goes wrong.
“When did–”
“I’m not going to tell you,” I said cutting him off. I know he’s staring at me and waiting for me to look at him but I won’t. I can’t. I know what questions are coming. I don’t want to answer them.
So I ate my burger…at the slowest pace possible.
Logan and I finished eating and when there was no more soda, Logan saw that as the time to talk again.
“Do you want to go home?” he asked.
Home.
Where everyone thinks I’m better.
Where I thought I was better.
Logan must know that I’m having a hard time deciding because he shifted in his seat and gave me his full attention.
“Aimee would probably let you crash at her dorm. She has an air mattress,” he said. “Or Kevin. I’m sure he won’t mind.”
“Who’s Kevin?” I asked with furrowed brows. Is he Aimee’s imaginary friend? I’ve witnessed her talking to herself sometimes so I wouldn’t put it past her. Just saying.
Logan’s brows furrowed. “The guy you’re having sex with.”
“Ohmygod,” I said throwing my hands u
p in the air. Fuck me. He just had to tell me his name. “Seriously. Aimee didn’t tell you that I didn’t want to know his name?”
“Oh, right,” Logan said. “Forgot. Sorry.”
I glanced at him and judging by the small smile on his lips, he’s not sorry for spilling that bit of information.
“So, did you make up your mind?” Logan asked starting the car. “Aimee’s?” His eyes flicked toward me. “Kevin’s?” I want to punch him. He’s rubbing it in my face. “Mine?”
What?
“Aimee will ask questions if you want to stay over her place. You’re not telling me anything so I think that goes for Aimee too. And she’s busy with Caleb...I don’t think you want to witness that.”
“So they have a history?” I asked. I knew something was going on between them.
“They dated on and off up until she started dating Victor,” Logan said staring at the dashboard because he still hasn’t driven. “They’re giving it another shot.”
I really don’t want to do this but home isn’t the option right now because everyone will know something is wrong and since Aimee isn’t available, I can’t stay there. I know Keller’s real name so we won’t be doing anything now and then there’s no one else. Maybe Peyton? No, he lives with his boyfriend in a one bedroom apartment nearby. There won’t be any privacy. And I don’t even know the boyfriend. It’d be kind of awkward.
“Your place...” I said unsure.
“I have an air mattress,” he said, holding my eyes. “So you don’t have to make such a delighted face.” I glanced at him and he smiled. I rolled my eyes and turned away. This fucking sucks. I suck.
I wish I was dead.
Stop thinking like that!
I bent over and slipped my hands into my hair and tugged. Why is this happening?! God, make it stop!
“Can you drive?” I snapped. I closed my eyes and took deep breaths but it’s not helping. Nothing is helping.
I feel myself giving up and I can’t stop it.
This never happened before.
I always calmed down and stopped the crazy shit.
I had control before.
The car started moving and the radio was turned on.
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