Chapter 32
chapter thirty two
i volunteered for you
For a long time, I wondered if I’d ever know true peace.
I thought it would come from helping girls like Lana, or hearing that Lana forgave me, even though that day would never come. But never once did I imagine it would come from something as simple as a fire burning low and a couch shared with the girl who… who was I kidding… falling for.
Falling.
The word itself was hard to get used to, even inside my head.
Don’t ask me where I was falling, though. Could have been in like. Could have been in love. Could have been towards a bottomless pit when she eventually realised how unworthy I am of like or love.
But whatever. That’s not what I wanted to focus on right now. What I wanted was to soak up was every ounce of her as she lay on my chest and—
“Their ship name is Peenis, you know.”
I think, actually, I just fell past the signpost for Love.
Her head shook against my chest, and I barked out a laugh, letting it roll into the pillows stacked behind us.
I stroked her hair as my eyes went back to the screen. “I didn’t know that, but thank you for telling me.”
She snorted. “Technically it’s Everlark, but why call them that when you can call them Peeniss.” Another hushed laugh left me as she turned around slightly, beautifully dark eyes finding me. “Having fun?”
I nodded, my thumb smoothing over her temple. “I am.”
I really was, and I was trying to think of why I ever put this movie off in the first place.
She reached up quickly and kissed my jaw before settling back between my legs and resting her head on my chest.
It wasn’t long before we’d reached the point where Katniss had saved Rue, only for Jack Quaid to be a dick and shoot an arrow straight through Rue’s chest. I felt Cora stiffen as the scene unfolded, and when Katniss was laying flowers around Rue’s body, she sniffled.
“You okay there?” my voice was low, my hand finding hers and covering it.
She wiped at something, her head angling slightly to face me.
“Grand.” She croaked. Then swiped again, her hand gesturing towards the screen.
“It’s just so sad. She wanted to save Rue like she saved Prim, but she couldn’t.
And not to spoil it, but she hates herself for it for the rest of the movies. ”
“I don’t blame her,” I said, eyes blurry against the crown of her head.
And the only reason they were was because the longer I watched, the more I saw Lana and I.
That wasn’t a new thing. I saw her everywhere. Was reminded of what I hadn’t done everywhere. And every time I couldn’t—when I lost her in the leaves or couldn’t see her in a crowd—that pain in the corner of my eyes flared, and before I knew it, the world was cloudy.
She sniffled again. “Katniss did everything right, and it still wasn’t enough.”
She blinked quickly, looking straight ahead, not at me.
The movie kept playing, but I wasn’t watching anymore. My eyes stared past the screen, at a shadow in the corner of the room that could have really been there, but surely it couldn’t have been. And suddenly I was fourteen again.
In my head the world lit blue and red. Her groans filled with pain and aching defeaned me. The look on Oscars face when he saw what had happened was haunting me. And it had every right to. Because it was my fault. She wasn't around anymore because of me. Because I couldn't…
“I couldn’t save her,”
I hadn’t realised I’d spoken until her eyes were on me.
Cora paused the movie and turned around fully. “Who?”
I swallowed, blinked, then let my eyes fall to hers as I remembered how to breathe. “My sister.”
Her eyes widened. “Sister?” Gently, her head lifted from the pillow beside her. “I thought Oscar was you’re—”
“There were three of us.” My shoulders lifted in a half-shrug, though it felt more like defeat than explanation. My gaze slipped somewhere past her, far away. “I don’t talk about her. Oscar doesn’t either.”
Something flickered across her face—softness, not pity. She shifted closer on the couch, our legs tangled under the threadbare blanket as her hand found the back of mine, as steady and warm as her stare was.
“Oh.” The word was barely there, a breath more than a sound. Her gaze searched my face. “Why do you look so sad?”
I tried to shrug again, but it collapsed halfway, useless. “Because I’m always sad when she’s in my head.” My eyes tracked the cracks in the ceiling. “Because every time I see something yellow, she’s all I can see.”
Her head tilted. “Yellow?”
“Her favourite colour.” My voice caught, like the word itself was too sharp. I swallowed, forcing the name out anyway. “Lana. That was her name.”
The air seemed to shift when I said it. Saying it out loud always hurt me, like an arrow to my chest, striking true every damn time.
Cora didn’t move, didn’t look away. Just tightened her hand over mine, grounding me here, now, when everything in me wanted to slip back into the past.
My throat burned. “Talking about her… it’s…” The words faltered, jagged in my mouth. I let out a breath, shaking my head like it might clear the weight pressing against my ribs. “It’s impossible. I can’t do it without being reminded of the ways I hurt her.”
Her thumb brushed once across my knuckles, light but grounding. The smallest touch, but it rooted me in the moment. That natural pull to look at her took over then, and my gaze shifted to hers.
She hesitated. Lips parting, closing. Her gaze flicked over my face like she was searching for cracks she had no right to touch. “Can I—” She stopped herself, teeth catching her bottom lip. “No. You don’t have to say anything. Not if it hurts.”
Something in me twisted at that—her willingness to let me keep the silence. Everyone else had always wanted answers, details, explanations. But her? She wanted me to keep it, if keeping it meant I could breathe easier. She wasn’t asking for the weight.
And maybe that was why the words clawed closer to the surface. Maybe, just this once, it wouldn’t kill me to let them out. Maybe it would hurt less than keeping them buried.
I blinked, throat tight, then nodded. “She was seventeen.”
And then her eyes rounded, looking at me like I was the fucking North Star.
I took the deepest breath I’d ever taken.
“She was three years older than me and six more than Oscar. Other kids would complain about their sisters being the worst thing to happen to them, but I never understood them. Lana… she was my everything.” I couldn’t help but smile as long brown hair and the biggest green doe eyes I’d ever seen filled my mind.
“I think I mentioned how I was non-verbal back then.”
Cora nodded.
“And it was Lana who taught me to paint what I wanted to say. Said it was my superpower. On top of that she was bringing home straight A’s, did every after-school activity you could think of, waitressed on the weekends, and knew what she wanted to be even before she was a freshman.”
Clouds invaded my mind as I slowly closed my eyes. “But then she met this guy.”
“From her classes?” Cora asked.
I hated that I had to shake my head as my eyes found her again.
“He worked shifts with her at the same restaurant. Some line cook or something.” I remembered his face, all tattooed, unwashed hair, and so not the person she was suited for.
And I knew she knew that because she never brought him home to meet Mamà, only bringing him to the house when she had to babysit us. ”
I tried to ask her about it, but she’d always roll her eyes and tell me I’d understand once I was her age.
Cora’s other hand found mine, threading her fingers through them like an anchor.
The squeeze she sent through them told me to take a breath.
So I did.
“She came home with bruises sometimes. Said they were from banging into something at work. Said he’d never actually hurt her.
That it wasn’t what it looked like.” I exhaled, jaw clenching.
“I believed her. Or I wanted to. I didn’t know how to say what I needed to say.
I couldn’t exactly paint how I knew something was wrong in a way she’d understand, you know. ”
Another pause.
“And then one night, while they were babysitting Oscar and me, he snapped. No idea why, but he did. Oscar and I were in bed, but I heard something, something smashing, so I crept downstairs and saw everything. And…” The memory choked me. “I just stood there.”
I watched him as his fists pummeled into her stomach again and again and again until she was sobbing.
Blood poured from her nose, seeping into the floorboards.
But as I stood and watched, I didn’t think about that once.
And when Lana’s teary eyes found mine, I didn’t think about anything other than how much I wished I could talk.
I slowly closed my eyes, the memory blurring, before creaking them open. “He, uh… sorry.” I pressed my palms to my eyes, reigning in my breaths as I dried them, enough so Cora wasn’t blurry anymore.
“I’m here.” Her voice was an echo, and it was everything I needed.
When I felt okay again, I slipped my hands back into hers.
“He left, once he saw how bad the damage was, and as he did, I ran back upstairs, dragged Oscar out of bed, and he was the one who called the ambulance. She ended up in hospital. Fractured ribs, a busted nose, and internal bleeding. And all I was thinking when we were standing there, Mamà, Oscar and me, was that maybe if I’d stopped him sooner, made him see that I was watching, she wouldn’t be here. ”
Her hand squeezed mine, and it was crazy how something so small made me feel like I wasn’t crumbling.
I met her eyes.
I love her eyes.
“We created Romano because I couldn’t save her. And I couldn’t keep pretending that I wasn’t part of why.”
Her thumb brushed over my knuckles, soft and steady.
“I figured… If I couldn’t go back, maybe I could do something that mattered. Something that kept the next Lana from ending up in that hospital bed.”
Cora didn’t cry. But her watery eyes said everything. “Romano is your Rue.”
I shook my head. “Romano was volunteering at the reaping.” I held her tighter. “You were my Rue.”
I watched her settle into the cushions as she let all of that register, but soon enough her eyes were back on me, curiosity swimming in them. “Katniss couldn’t save Rue. But you… Marcus you saved me.”
“Not the first time.” My head fell. “I failed to do my job and protect you.”
Her hand was on my chin, lifting my eyes to hers. And it was like watching a puzzle being solved. “That’s why you’re here?”
I nodded, lips pulling tight. “I wanted to do for you what I couldn’t do for Lana. I wanted a second chance.”
A few seconds later and her head fell, and then her shoulders were shaking.
“Hey,” My arms wrapped around her. “What’s—”
“I’m sorry.” Her eyes were full of tears.
“What do you have to be sorry for?”
She shrugged, like it was obvious. “For being a bitch. For pushing so hard. For being an arsehole when all you were trying to do was protect me.”
My palms warmed her shoulders. “And I don’t blame you for that.” Her tears were flowing now, and I scooped her in my arms and pulled her closer, practically cradling her against me as my body sank into the couch. “I’ve got you.” I whispered. “I’ve got you.”
I let her cry against me. I don’t know how long, but in the time I had, it had started raining, the soft patter against the window calling out to the sleep I’d lost working into the early hours of the morning.
I think we fell asleep for an hour, maybe two. I wasn’t sure. But we slowly woke up and strings of the conversation we’d fallen asleep to came back.
She leaned forward slowly, forehead resting against mine. “Is she…” Her words broke. “Lana, is she…”
I knew what she was asking, and thankfully I could shake my head. “She’s out East with her husband and two kids. She’s happy.”
“Do you still talk to her?” She asked as her tiny smile peaked.
I love her smile.
My head shook again. “She talks to me. But…”
“You don’t talk to her?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Why?” She asked, rubbing her eyes and sitting up.
I shrugged. “All of me still feels guilty for what happened. Like… I haven’t really forgiven myself.”
Her hand rested on my jaw. “Not that I blame you for what happened, but I forgive you. You know that, right?”
I nodded. “I do now.”
She smiled softly. “And I don’t know Lana, but you said she was smart.
So part of me can’t help but guess that she forgives you too.
” My head sank, but she caught it. “Maybe, like me, she realises that everything, even the bad things, happens for a reason.” Her head shook, like her mind was wandering.
“I couldn’t see it at first, but if Jamie hadn’t done what he did, we wouldn’t have met.
And the idea of not knowing you makes me sad. ”
Maybe I just love her.
“Me too.”
Those two words weren’t nearly enough for what I’d feel if I was living in a world where her smile wasn’t a daily sight.
I know I wouldn’t enjoy this city as much as I did with her to guide me through it.
And I know that without her, as much as Romano satisfied my need for making everything right, I wouldn’t be happy.
She was the moonlight when the street lamps weren’t working. The lighter edge of a storm cloud. She was the kind of rain that you enjoy, the kind that makes you wish for winter to be a yearly season. She was all the parts of the world that I liked and the parts of myself that I didn’t.
And she was right, under any other circumstances, our paths would have never crossed.
So yeah, to put it lightly, if she hadn’t been hurt, if I didn’t make mistakes, I wouldn’t have the girl of my dreams wrapped in my arms.
As the words settled in my head, I let my hand smooth out her hair, and when it cupped the back of her neck I tugged her close enough to kiss her. Her lips were perfect, like they always were. It was only quick.
I let her go, readjusted the blankets and found the remote that had slipped from her hands and pressed play. And this time, as I watched Katniss lay flowers delicately around Rue’s body, I wasn’t as sad as I was before.