Chapter 32
“ I got your text,” Peace says, walking to where I’m waiting for her by the unlit firepit. “Did Mark drop the charges?”
“Yeah.” I narrow my gaze. “How did you get him to do it?”
“It wasn’t me.” She shakes her head. “It was Harmony. She convinced him.”
“Then I’m grateful to both of you.” I give her a firm look. I know if Harmony did anything for me, it was because Peace asked her to do it. “But you need to stay away from that guy. He’s bad news.” And he has a twisted thing for her.
“I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” She starts to gnaw on her lip.
“Good,” I say, but nothing’s good right now, least of all what I need to do.
“Do you want to walk down to the lake?” she asks and glances away. “Talk some more privately?”
“I can’t.” My throat tightens, but I manage to get the words out. “I have to go.”
“Go as in leave Seattle?” Glancing at me, her brow furrows.
“Yeah.” I nod tightly. “I purchased a bus ticket for tonight.”
“But you just got here.” Sadness like a storm brewing swirls in her eyes.
“Sorry.” I shrug like it’s not tearing me up inside to leave her. “Couldn’t be helped.”
“Okay.” Her gaze turns shiny behind her glasses. “I’m leaving soon too.”
“Why?” I ask. “Where are you going?”
“LA.” She twists her hands together. “My dad’s going on tour with yours. My mom is shooting a new movie that Harmony is costarring in. My parents are sending me to live with my uncle.” Explanation made, she lowers her head.
“Hey, that can’t be all bad. You like your uncle.” I wedge my finger under her chin. Gently lifting it, I slide her golden hair back so I can see her pretty face. When her eyes meet mine, the gathered drops inside them spill over. “It’s good that you’ll get away from Mark and his asshole friends, right?”
“Yeah, there’s that, I guess.” Her bottom lip trembles.
“That’s something, at least.” Her being upset makes me upset. Watching those tears track down her face, I want to comfort her, press my mouth to hers, but she’s too young, and with her dad’s words rolling around in my head, I settle for brushing away the sadness from her soft skin with my rough thumbs.
“I don’t know anyone in LA. I won’t have anyone to talk to.” She clutches the front of my shirt. “I’m sorry I let distance develop between us. With all the bullying, I was ashamed. Plus, I didn’t want you to know about my glasses.”
“You have nothing to be ashamed of.” I wrap my arms around her. “And I love your glasses.”
“Can we start talking every day like we used to?” With her palms flattening on my chest, she peers up at me expectantly.
I want to say yes, but I shouldn’t. We’re both leaving. I should let this be a clean break between us. She’s way too good for me. That isn’t ever going to change.
“Sure,” I agree, not doing what I should. “I’d like that.” I can’t say no to her. If I give her up, I won’t have anyone to talk to either.
“’Kay.” She gives me a wobbly smile. “Thanks.”
She’s so sweet. So tempting. So beautiful.
“But, Peace”—I dig deep and find some strength to be selfless—“you need to find another friend. Someone other than just me.”
“Why?” she asks, tilting her head.
“Because I’m not the right one to help you.”
“Why do you think I need help?” She searches my eyes, and her gaze shutters. “You feel sorry for me too. You think I’m too broken and strange, too weird.”
“No.” I shake my head. “You don’t understand.” I wish I had a song to say what I need to or my guitar, but I just have words, and I attempt to explain better. “It’s just that it’s not right for me to take up all your time when someone in LA would be closer.” And someone else, anyone else would undoubtedly be better for her.
“I’m too much trouble.” Her eyes swim with hurt. “You don’t want to help me.”
“That’s not true.” My jaw hardens. “It’s just that after today, I see how things are. If I hadn’t arrived when I did when Mark and his friends cornered you, what would have happened?”
“I can take care of myself.”
“You mean like you were doing before I arrived?” I ask pointedly. “By backing away? By cowering? By crying?” She flinches, but I keep going. This is important. South Texas is too far away. I won’t be able to protect her. “You can’t let bullies know they’re getting to you.”
“I know that. I can bury my emotions.” She steps backward. I lose her, my arms falling empty at my sides. “No one will know I’m hurting.” She raises her chin.
“I don’t want you to change who you are.” I can’t tell what she’s thinking. Her eyes are shiny but hard. She’s blocking me out. “Listen.” I reach for her, knowing I do a better job communicating when I’m touching her.
“I don’t need to hear any more.” She steps out of reach. “And you don’t need to worry about me. I won’t cling. I get it. I know what you’re really trying to say. You have your life now. I have mine. We’re moving on.”
She’s not a clinger, but I sure as shit am.
“Goodbye, Bo.” Her tone turns raspy. “I’ll miss you.”
“Goodbye for now.” I frown and try to salvage this. “I’ll come see you in LA. Somehow.” Trying to do this right, I’m doing it all wrong. More proof that I don’t need that I’m bad for her.
“Don’t make me any more promises you don’t intend to keep.” She crosses her arms.
“Peace.” I grimace. That was a low blow. I haven’t broken a single promise to her.
“I’ll be fine.” She blinks away the moisture in her eyes. “I’m stronger than you or anyone else thinks.”
“I know you are, PJ,” I say softly.
“My name is Peace.” She lifts her chin. “PJ is just a stupid name for a na?ve little girl who doesn’t exist anymore.”