is working two jobs just to put food on the table. And what do you think happens when my dad gets pissed?” she continued, cheeks flushing pink with anger. “I turn into a human punching bag so he doesn’t go after Penny. But do you see me moping around about it? Expecting anyone to take care of me?”
Oh my God.
“But you could never take care of yourself and that sure as shit hasn’t changed. Jesus, you can’t even stand up in front of a class and give a damn speech!” Her voice grew dangerously calm as she delivered that well-aimed blow. “Why do you think no one in class has given you shit about that? Anyone else they’d eat alive, but not while Rider’s there. Oh no, they see him with you and they know not to mess with you. But he can’t always be there. So there’s going to come another time when you can’t handle anything, when you can’t stand up for yourself, and he won’t be there. You’ll fall and he’ll be left picking up the pieces, blaming himself. That’s how it works. That’s how it will always work for you two.”
My mouth dropped open as I stepped back.
“Even now.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You can’t even stand up for yourself. You know what? You’re right. You’re not too good for him. He deserves better.”
Paige stalked away, leaving me standing there in the middle of the empty hall, alone with the truth of her words.
* * *
I woke up early Saturday morning and gathered up my carving supplies. I went through several bars in several hours. My room smelled like Irish Spring. After lunch, and on my third pack of soap, wings took shape along the right side and then the left, held together by a center no wider than my thumb.
I hadn’t slept well Friday night.
Nightmares had woken me up every couple of hours, and it had nothing to do with the party later today. My nerves had taken a backseat.
Paige’s words were haunting me.
They were mean and spiteful, but they were also true. I’d come far, but I...I was still Mouse. I couldn’t even stand up in class to give a speech. I stood there and let Paige drag me through the mud. I didn’t stand up for myself.
Not yesterday.
Not when Carl had dismissed the whole social work thing.
Not when Rosa and Carl made the deal with Mr. Santos.
Paige and I had more in common than I ever would’ve thought we would. She came from a bad home, still lived in one, but she wasn’t like me. She dealt with it. I hid from it.
I’d come so far, but I still...felt weak. Like glassware. If I fell, I would shatter, and Rider would... He would pick up the pieces and he would blame himself. I knew that. Paige was right. That was what we had.
But I couldn’t let that be all that we were.
* * *
By the time I needed to stop to get ready for Peter’s party, a butterfly had formed. I’d never done one of those before. It still needed detail, I thought as I carefully placed it on my desk and turned to my closet.
Going to this party was huge, but the excitement was tainted as I slipped on the dress I’d picked out the night Rosa and Carl had said I could go. It was quarter-sleeved and royal blue. I paired it with black tights and flats. It wasn’t dressy, but I thought it was cute.
I stared at myself in the mirror for several seconds. That was all it took to hear Paige’s words again. I thought about speech class and why none of the other students had said anything about me not giving the speech along with them. As soon as that thought finished, a memory formed.
“You can come out now,” Rider said, crouched in front of the closet door. The room was softly lit behind him, but he was nothing more than a shadow.
Clutching Velvet to my chest, I shook my head. Tears had dried on my cheeks. I was never going to come out.
“It’s okay, Mouse. I promise.” Rider lifted his arms. “He’s gone. It’s just us and Miss Becky. You can come out.”
I lowered the doll. If Mr. Henry was gone, then it was okay. Uncurling, I pushed onto my knees and crawled forward. The moment I reached the door, Rider grasped my free hand. He pulled me onto my feet. I looked up and saw his face. His lip was split and turning an angry red. Fresh cut. Mr. Henry’s fists. I’d hidden while Rider distracted him.
“You’re safe now,” Rider said. “I’m here. You’re safe, Mouse. And I know you might not believe it, but I’m going to keep you safe forever.” He swallowed and swiped at his lip. “That’s a promise.”
Forever.
He’d promised he’d be there for me for forever.
But I was of the mind that there were two types of forever.
The good kind.
The bad kind.
I’d learned early on that the good kind of forever was, well, it was a lie. That kind of forever literally and figuratively ended in flames, because no matter how tightly you tried to hold on, that kind of forever slipped between the fingers.
The bad kind of forever lingered like a shadow or ghost. No matter what. It stayed, always in the background.
Closing my eyes, I focused on breathing past the burn. I couldn’t think about that right now. Tears clogged my throat, but I knew I wouldn’t cry. I hadn’t cried since I left that house.
Holy crap, I seriously hadn’t cried since that night. Realizing that just now left me feeling like there was a pit of snakes in my stomach. It wasn’t like my tear ducts were defective. My head was stuck. Everything was stuck. And I had to get...unstuck.
Starting with tonight.
I took the time to do just that on the way over to Ainsley’s. She lived in Otterbein, in one of the historic row homes pretty close to the Inner Harbor. I had no idea what houses went for in this area, but I knew they had to cost a pretty penny.
“You can sit...up front,” I said when she climbed in the back. She looked amazing, as always, wearing tight black jeans and a loose blouse that slid off one shoulder.
“That seat is reserved for Mr. Hotness Incorporated,” she replied, buckling herself in and then leaning forward to grab the back of my seat. “Plus, I kind of like being driven around while I sit in the backseat. You’re like my chauffeur.”
I snorted. “In...a decade-old Civic.”
“Whatever.” She smacked the seat. “I’ve gotta admit. I’m still surprised that Carl and Rosa were down for this.”
“Me, too,” I admitted. Before I left, they went over the ground rules once more. Carl still didn’t look like he was a hundred percent behind this.
Traffic was a pain, so it took a bit to pick up Rider, and when he climbed into the passenger seat, he sent a grin in Ainsley’s direction and then leaned over, kissing my cheek.
“Mouse.” He pulled back, his gaze moving over me, and even though I was sitting, I had the feeling he was seeing everything. “You look beautiful.”
I flushed.
“Do you know anyone like you that I can steal?” Ainsley asked, and I fought a grin. I was guessing things were not looking good for Todd.
Rider twisted in the seat as I pulled away from the curb. “Yeah, I do. His name is Hector.”
My lips curved up.
“Hector? What? He’s a jerk,” she replied, sitting back. There was a pause. “Is he going to be at this party?”
This time I didn’t fight the grin.
“Nah, he’s got to work tonight.” Rider flipped back around and reached over to me, running his finger along the curve of the arm closest to him. “You really do look beautiful.”
My grin spread into a smile. “You look great, too.”
“In other words, she says you look freaking hot,” Ainsley added from the back.
And that was true. It was always true, but tonight Rider looked especially hot with the dark denim and worn white button-down shirt. I don’t know what it was about the shirt that I liked so much. Maybe it was because the material was so thin that I imagined if he held me, I could feel his body heat. Or maybe it was the way he had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing dusky-skinned, powerful forearms.
Or maybe it
was just him.
Probably just him.
Peter’s party was being held at his grandparents’ house since they’d left for Florida in September. The house was in the opposite direction of the Rivases’, on the outskirts of the city, where there were larger homes with yards. Keira had explained that Peter’s older brother would be there as unofficial chaperone, but he was twenty-one, so he wasn’t an adult-adult.
“Wow,” Ainsley murmured as the narrow, heavily tree-lined road cleared and the house came into view.
The house was really a farm—a big old farmhouse, and there were cars everywhere, parked in haphazard lines. My stomach twisted as I took in the sea of vehicles and the people milling around the side of the white-and-red farmhouse.
This...this was a lot of people.
“Probably smart to park back here,” Rider advised. “Alongside the road and keep some distance behind this car. You know, in case someone pulls...”
Oh my gosh, this was seriously a lot of people here.
Sweat dotted my brow. Blood pounded in my ears. Hot, I blindly smacked against the door until I hit the button. The window rolled down and cool air poured into the car. That wasn’t all. My mouth dried. Acid churned in my stomach. The scent of burning wood was choking me. Music pumped and the hum of conversation and laughter echoed in my ears.
I jumped when a hand landed on my arm. My head swung to Rider. His mouth moved, and for a second I couldn’t make out what he was saying. All I could hear was all the noise—screeching laughter and loud voices. I struggled to focus on what was happening in the car.
“Mallory?” he said.
I swallowed. “What?”
His brows slammed down as he searched my face. “You zoned out.”
“You okay?” Ainsley asked, clutching the back of my seat. “You’re super pale.”
“You are.” Rider cupped my cheek. “Holy shit, your skin is clammy.”
Our eyes met. “This is...so overwhelming.”
Concern tightened the corners of his lips as he leaned over. “We don’t have to do this.”
“We don’t,” Ainsley agreed from the backseat. Her arm reached out and she squeezed my arm. “Actually, I’d rather do something else. This is just a stupid farmhouse party, and I bet they don’t even have horses or cows. Now that would be cool.”
Rider’s gaze held mine as he nodded. “Ainsley’s right. It’s just a stupid party.”
But it was...important.
It meant I was trying.
And leaving wasn’t even trying.
“I don’t want to...be like this,” I whispered as I looked away, and once I said it, I didn’t even want to take the words back. A weird sensation hit me, almost like...like relief. That didn’t make sense. Or did it? “I don’t like who I am.”
My gaze returned to his, and the concern was still there, filling his hazel eyes and thinning out his mouth. Tears crawled up the back of my throat. Humiliating actually, to admit something so intimate like that, but now I wasn’t the only one who knew this about myself. It wasn’t my secret.
“It’s okay. You’re not going to feel that way forever.” Rider smoothed his thumb along my jaw. I closed my eyes, wanting to believe him. Needing to. He kept his voice low as he spoke. “Nothing lasts forever, Mouse.”
* * *
We didn’t go to the party.
We ended up going to a movie.
I didn’t even drive to the theater. Rider had. And then he dropped Ainsley off, and then once I convinced him that I was fine, I dropped him off. Tonight had been a first—the first time I’d gone to the movies with a boy, and I wasn’t even there for it. My head was stuck on the fact that tonight had been an absolute failure.
I was pretty sure Carl and Rosa had waited up for me, but they were considerate enough not to jump on me when I entered the house and quietly climbed the stairs. My cell phone rang about five minutes after I closed the bedroom door. It was the first time Rider had ever called me on the phone for, well, obvious reasons.
“You there, Mouse?” he asked.
“Yes.” I clutched the phone to my ear.
There was a pause. “There’s something I need to say to you and I want you to listen, okay?”
My stomach dropped. I sat on the edge of the bed, my legs curled under me. I hadn’t gotten changed yet, just stripped off the cardigan that smelled faintly of popcorn. I braced myself—tried to at least—for Rider to say this whole relationship thing was a bad idea. A million things raced in my head before he spoke again.
“You said something tonight that really bothered me,” he said, and I heard a door close on his end. “You said you didn’t like yourself.”
I focused on the incomplete butterfly on my desk as I opened my mouth. No words.
“I hated hearing that, Mouse. I don’t like knowing you think that way,” he continued, and I closed my eyes. The burn was back, building in my throat. “There’s so much about you that you should like. You’re smart. You’ve always been smart. You’re planning to go to college and maybe even do something med school–related.”
I squeezed my eyes tight then, because I...I didn’t think I really wanted to do that, and thinking that made me feel like I was floating with no anchor.
“You’re kind,” he went on as I covered my face with my hand. “You’re a sweet person who has her entire future ahead of her. Not to mention you’re a great kisser. You kind of suck at the whole graffiti thing, though. That’s true.”
A choked laugh escaped me.
“But we can work on that,” Rider added. “And those soap carvings I saw? They were amazing, Mallory. You are talented. You just don’t talk a lot, Mouse. That’s it. You’re shy. That’s no reason to not like who you are, because who you are is wonderful. You’re perfect in your own way.”
“That’s not it,” I blurted out.
“What?”
I drew in a breath and it—it all just came out. “It’s not just that I don’t talk. I’m stuck.”
“You’re not stuck, Mallory.”
“I am.” I pushed off the bed and I began to pace. “I’m stuck and I can’t get past that.” My voice cracked and then I was talking faster, spewing out more words in a minute than I typically did in five hours. “Tonight was a first for me. It should’ve been fun and huge, and I didn’t even like it. I didn’t even experience it. I didn’t try. Not really. I’m that lame.”
“Mallory—”
“And you and I have always been this way. I need help. You... You’re right there. I fall apart. You piece me back together. I don’t even try to change that.”
“What? Where in the hell is this coming from?” he asked. “That’s BS.”
I shook my head.
“And you are trying. You’re in school. You’re making friends. You’re talking to people,” he persisted. “You just had a setback. That’s all.”
It was more than just a setback.
“I’m scared of everything,” I admitted, voice hushed. “Everything. My biggest fear is forever. That I will be like this forever.”
He cursed. “That bastard did this to you. The way he treated you—”
“He treated you the same and you didn’t turn out this way.”
“I’m not perfect, Mouse. None of us are, but damn, I hate hearing you say this stuff, because I...” His sigh came through the phone, sounding bone-weary. “I don’t know how to make that better.”
Neither did I.
And maybe...maybe it wouldn’t get better. Rider had said nothing lasted forever, but some things, some scars, ran too deep to ever fade away.
Chapter 28
Wednesday evening Ainsley messaged me on the computer.
The Problem with Forever Page 32