Author: Cheryl McIntyre

I smile into the darkness. “He loved all music,” I say.

“Did he play an instrument?”

“Yep. Taught me how to play the guitar. He was so good. He met my mom playing at the bar she worked at. She brought him drinks and he played her whatever she asked him to. She got pregnant with me and they got married. My dad would always tell me I wasn’t a mistake. I was a miracle because my mom wouldn’t have married a bum musician if she hadn’t gotten knocked up.” I laugh a genuine laugh. “She would have married him anyway. They were in love. I get it now. It was real love.

“They fought like crazy, but they were happy. And I remember they always touched. Always hugged and kissed. Snuggled on the couch, in bed. Held hands whenever we went anywhere. I hated it at the time. Thought it was embarrassing. She’s never been the same since that night. It’s almost like part of her died with him. I guess he took a piece of each of us and we’ll never get it back. I’d do pretty much anything to see Mom and Dad holding on to each other again.”

“Does it scare you? That you might love someone that much someday, just to lose them too?”

“Yes,” I confess, “I’ve been scared since the first time I saw you.”

Chapter 18

Hope

Before I have a chance to even try to comprehend what Mason could possibly mean by that statement, Guy thrusts the door open. “Park’s back. Just thought…” He shrugs as one side of his mouth lifts in an uncomfortable smile. “I thought you might want a heads up.”

I sit up slowly because I don’t want to hurt Mason’s feelings by jumping out of bed, but I can’t let Park find me snuggled up to him either. That’s not the way he should find out about this. Especially when I don’t know what this is.

“What do you want me to do?” Mason asks quietly.

Guy lingers in the doorway, I think wanting to know the same thing. I look at him. I beg him with my eyes for help. I already know what he thinks I should do. He wants me to give Mason a chance. A real one. But I feel the fear creeping back inside, warring with the anger and sadness that already resides there.

“You need to tell him,” Guy says firmly. I don’t know if he means tell Park about Mason, or tell Mason what I want him to do. I just sit on the edge of the bed numbly. The footsteps on the stairs cause them to make the decision for me.

Mason stands up. Guy flicks the light on and moves farther into my room. We look like the three of us are hanging out. Like friends do. Innocently.

I am a coward.

Park walks in and plops down on the bed next to me. His entire side touches mine and he plants a lingering kiss on my cheek. My eyes dart to Mason. He’s looking right at me, his face is blank, expression unreadable, but his posture is stiff. He reminds me of the Buckingham Palace guards that aren’t allowed to move or show emotion. Somehow that’s worse than knowing how he’s thinking.

“You smell good,” Park says quietly against my ear. “Let’s go somewhere. Alone.”

I’m frozen. Like time stands still. Park’s breath in my ear. Mason’s eyes on mine. Guy hovering. Me, with my heart twisting into a knot, battling my stomach for most severe upset.

“Yeah, okay. We need to talk,” I say. I never take my eyes off Mason and I see something flash over his face, too quickly to read. I shift my gaze to Guy. “Can you give us a few minutes?”

“We’ll be outside. Partying it up with old people,” Guy drawls with mock excitement.

“Have fun with that,” I say. I wait until they’re both out of the room and the door is shut before I turn to face Park. I can tell with one look that he understands “we need to talk” wasn’t a pretense for making out. He knows…something.

We sit in silence until he finally clears his throat. “What’s going on?”

I just say it. “We need a break.”

He looks away, staring at the door for several heartbeats, and then he laughs bitterly. “We don’t need a break. You do.” He leans forward resting his elbows on his knees and shakes his head. “Why? Or should I say who?”

“We had a deal,” I point out. My voice cracks and I know I am about two seconds away from freaking out.

“Mm, yeah. Our noncommittal relationship that isn’t really a relationship. Except it is. For me. It is.” He runs his fingers through his dark hair, letting it fall into his eyes. “So that’s it? We’re done? Do I even get to know why? What I did wrong?”

My chest is rising and falling quickly as I fight to control my breathing. This is why. This is why I don’t do relationships. I don’t want to hurt him. I don’t want to see that look in his eyes. I glance at my bathroom where my razor awaits me. If I had just done it earlier, maybe it wouldn’t be pulling me so strongly right now. I dig my fingers into my hair and yank it. It’s not enough, but it helps.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I whisper. “I just need…” I don’t know what I need. Space? Change? Freedom?

Mason. I need Mason.

I need him right now.

I stand up and rush to the door, flinging it open so hard it slams into the wall. Park shoots off the bed after me. His arms close around me from behind, hugging me back against his chest. “Calm down,” he murmurs, his mouth against my neck. “It’s okay. Just calm down.”

I shake my head. I can’t stop shaking my head. “No…it’s…not okay.” I can barely breathe. “Get Guy.”

Park releases me and I slide down his body to the floor. “I’ll be right back.”

I watch him leave, listen to his descending footsteps as they explode down the steps. I just hurt him and he still cares about me. I can’t even stand that. I can’t.

I lay my cheek to my bent knees and concentrate on breathing. And Mason. And breathing. And Mason.

Am I doing the right thing? Is it ever right to hurt someone? But is it right to stay with someone when you want to be with someone else? Which one would hurt more? If my mom had just stayed any of those times, I would have felt better, right? But if she stayed when she felt the need to run, would her blow ups have been worse? Was it secretly a blessing when she left?

It’s too much.

Mason. Breathing. Mason. Breathing.

Footsteps.

“Honey,” Guy says softly. “It’s bad tonight, huh?”

I nod, my head jerking around until I find Mason. Guy follows my gaze and holds out his arm, offering Mason the glorified position of taming the crazy girl. I nod again, needing him to be close. I don’t know why I want him. Need him. It just makes it worse. The panic blooms, rising higher, higher. Mason kneels in front of me. I wrap my arms around his neck and breathe my first good breath. Fill my lungs with his scent. Breathe. Mason.

“This is why?” Park says stiffly. I meet his glare over Mason’s shoulder, letting him read it in my eyes. I can’t bring myself to say it aloud. “I knew it.”

Park chuckles darkly. He steps into my room and crosses his arms. He looks seriously pissed and I shrink back. It’s not like I think he’d ever hit me, although he looks like he kind of wants to, but I have seen this expression more times than I can count. He’s on the verge of lashing out. He wants to hurt me and he’s going to do it.

His brows lift, his mouth turns up in a malicious smirk. “Does he know?”

My mind goes blank for half a second, but Park scowls and it hits me. He only has one thing he can use against me. I try to stand up, but my legs won’t cooperate. “Don’t,” I choke. Please. No. Don’t do this to me.

I draw back from Mason. My body trembles with fear and anger. So much anger.

Park’s smile widens. He’s standing above me, grinning. Ready to ruin my life. I catch Guy take a step toward him from my peripheral. “Hm-mm. He must not. You think he’ll still want you when he finds out?”

“Dude, what the fuck?” Mason spits. “Back the fuck off.”

“NO! You back the fuck off. I’m having a conversation with Hope.”

“Park, dude, let’s go for a walk. You need to calm down,” Guy suggests. He takes another step. Park and I are still locked in a staring contest.

His smile drops and I know this is it. It’s coming. “Did you know Hope cuts herself?” Just like that. One sentence, so casually spoken, he could have been reading some random fact from a book. One stupid sentence is all it takes for this son of a bitch to crush me.

I push myself up and lunge at him. I get one good hit in before Guy is pulling me away. “You mother fucker,” I utter. My voice doesn’t shake. Not a single quiver. It’s cold and even. “Get the fuck out.”

“Check her inner right thigh.” Park turns on his heel and glides out of my room, slamming the door behind him. Guy’s hands drop and I sink back to the floor.

Nobody moves. Nobody says anything. I’m not sure if anybody even breathes. I don’t know if it’s seconds or minutes, but then I feel a hand gripping my ankle. I don’t understand at first, but I look up and Mason is stretching my leg out. He reaches for the hem of my shorts.

“No.” I try to pull away, but he tightens his grip as he takes hold of the fabric. “NO!” I struggle with him. Try to squirm away. Try to kick out at him. He can’t see. He can’t see. He CAN’T SEE. “NO!”

And then he does see. He gets my shorts up nearly to my hip and shifts my leg. Angry, ugly, pink and red scars stretch across my flesh. Three of them covered with fresh scabs. Nine of them older.

Guy gasps and the room goes still again. I can’t look at either of them. I don’t want to know what they think. What they see. How could Park be so cruel? How could he tell? How could Mason believe him without even asking me? How could he use his strength against me? Overpower me so he could see my secret. How could Guy let him? How could he look?

I am alone.

Without a word, I slide my shorts back into place. I want to run to my bathroom, lock myself in, and make myself feel better. But Park took that from me.

Mason stands up and stomps around my room, shuffling things on my dresser. He heads into the bathroom. Cabinets bang, unknown objects clatter. Guy sits behind me, his legs on either side of mine, and pulls me against him. He presses his cheek against mine and rocks me from side to side soothingly.

Mason’s feet stop in front of me. “Is this what you use?”

I look at his hand. A silver razor blade lying flatly inside his palm. I nod once. He shoves it into the box with the rest and slips it into his pocket.

“Is there anymore?”

I shake my head. Then clear my throat. I almost tell him how sometimes I use scissors. Occasionally tweezers or a knife. Razors are just easier. But I don’t tell him. I can at least have that secret.

“There’s some in the bathroom I share with Dylan,” Guy says. “I don’t know about my dad’s.”

“Do you really think you can just take away the razor blades and I’ll magically stop being in pain? Do you think I’ll just quit? I can get more. I can do other things. I can…” I stop. I shouldn’t be saying this. I should let them believe whatever they want.

“You have to stop, honey. You can’t hurt yourself like this anymore.”

“Why? You don’t even get it, Guy. I’ve done this since I was twelve years old. I’m not hurting myself. I’m making myself feel better. You can’t take this from me. I won’t make it.”

He sucks in a breath and I realize how he must have taken that. I’m not suicidal. I’m not going to kill myself. I just don’t want to go completely insane.

“I don’t know what to do,” Mason admits. His eyes flick between me and Guy.

I laugh soundlessly. “There’s nothing you can do.”