Chapter Twenty-Five #3
“A couple weeks. Feels like years, though.” She hops off the balustrade.
“Actually, I should probably apologize. I’ve spent a lot of time wishing they’d never kicked you out, but you don’t deserve to live here either.
They’re self-centered slobs. I’m moving out next month, but I haven’t told them yet.
Starr is definitely looking too, so she can go make someone else miserable.
Leni’s about to have the house all to herself.
It’ll probably be condemned by the time we’re juniors.
I hope wherever you ended up is better than this. ”
“Thanks. I, um, hope you find somewhere better too.”
“Do you want me to get someone for you?” she asks, jerking her thumb toward the backyard. I’m surprised to find I can see her clearly now; the oncoming tears have dried up. “You’re with Mikey, right? From the band? I saw you with her roommates. My boyfriend and her are in some classes together.”
Behind her, her boyfriend raises a hand and says, “Hey.”
I wave back. “I’m okay. I’m going to call an Uber.” I hold up my phone. “I don’t want to ruin their night.”
I fire off a text to Felicity, because she feels safest.
ME
Heading home. I’m sorry. I’ll apologize to Mikey.
I feel weird staying on the porch, so I head down to the street as I pull up the Uber app. The closest car is eleven minutes away, and surge pricing has doubled the usual fare. I groan.
“No getaway car available?”
I whirl. Jamie is crossing the lawn, his expression unreadable.
“I just—I need to get out of here,” I say when he reaches me. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize.”
I cover my face with my hands. “Will Mikey be mad?”
“What? Blair, no.” He tugs my wrists, pulling my hands down. “What happened? Were you crying?”
I try to cover my face again, but he holds on to my wrists.
“What did they say to you?” he asks, moving his hands to cup my face. His thumbs brush gently over my cheekbones.
I shake my head. “Nothing worth repeating. They’re going through something that has nothing to do with me, but they decided to drag me into it anyway.
They… It sounds like they hated me, and I—I just—” I suck in a breath, fisting my hands in the front of his shirt.
The paint on it bends under my fingers, still tacky.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs, pulling me in. “I got you.”
I press my face into his shoulder and let out a quiet sob.
My cowboy hat tips off the back of my head, and I feel Jamie catch it.
“I don’t know why I’m so upset. I guess I hadn’t totally given up on them yet, and now I feel stupid.
I gave them all the ammunition they needed to hurt me in the worst possible way, and then I let them. ”
Jamie’s hand tightens against my lower back. “That doesn’t make you stupid.”
I pull away to look at his face, wiping my eyes. “Doesn’t it? After they kicked me out and acted the way they did, aren’t I the idiot?”
“No. Trusting people—especially the people who act like they care about you—does not make you stupid. If they were really your friends, they would’ve talked to you about how they felt, but they didn’t.
They put you in an impossible situation and then blamed you for it, and you were still ready to give them a chance anyway.
Because whatever they were doing with you, you weren’t doing the same with them. You were being a friend.”
I nod slowly, the tension in my chest unfurling.
“In fact,” Jamie continues, “I’d bet if they came running out right now and apologized, you’d actually consider accepting it.”
I flush, embarrassed. “Well—well—I guess it’d depend on how good the apology was!”
He smiles, setting my hat on his head. “That’s not an indictment of you, Blair. I love that about you. You seem like you’re made of marble, but you’re actually soapstone, aren’t you? Softer than you’d expect.”
I’m struck speechless, first by the word “love,” and then by Jamie referencing a throwaway detail I’d given him about the hunk of soapstone on my desk, so long ago now.
“Do you want to go home?” he asks. “I can take you. I’ll come back and get them when they’re ready.”
“Yeah, okay. Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me.” He pulls his keys from his pocket and takes my hand, tugging me in the direction of the Jeep. My hat is still on his head, looking comical with the rest of his outfit.
I start to follow him, but then I see movement out of the corner of my eye, and I turn.
Sawyer crosses the lawn, his expression so pointedly bored, it may as well be a weapon aimed in our direction.
I take an automatic step away from Jamie, but I forget we’re holding hands.
We might as well have a big, red sign over our heads that says GOTCHA!
“Don’t let me interrupt,” Sawyer says blandly. “Not like I didn’t see this coming.”
Jamie sighs. “You wouldn’t even talk to me, Sawyer. What do you want me to say?”
“Nothing, I guess,” says Sawyer. “Which is good, because that’s what I’m used to getting, right? I mean, what could be left when Blair gets fucking everything?”
I tug my hand out of Jamie’s. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He whirls on me, his face red and jaw clenched so tight, I can see the muscles straining in his cheek.
“It means the golden child gets whatever she wants again, as usual. Thanks a lot. I thought maybe I could have, like, one thing in life—just one thing you didn’t have to take, that I wouldn’t have to share, but of course, what was I thinking?
” He smacks his forehead. “I guess I’m the dumbass here. ”
“Okay, so the thing is, Sawyer—I’m a person,” Jamie says, “not an object.”
“Then be a person for me,” Sawyer spits at him.
“I fucking dropped out of school. I came here because I needed you, and you were too busy worrying about my sister—like everyone else in my life, in case you forgot—to ask yourself why the hell I’d show up out of nowhere with my car packed for a holiday weekend.
I don’t even have class on Fridays! Every weekend is a long weekend for me!
And you would know that if you were thinking about me for even a second, but clearly you had other priorities.
“I came here because—because I’m scared, and you—” He breaks off, twisting away from us. “This is such bullshit.” He scrubs his hands over his face and up, fingers tangling in his hair. “Fuck.”
“Sawyer,” I say.
“Don’t talk to me,” he says, whirling. I’m shocked to see his eyes are red, his cheeks wet with tears. “You can have your perfect life, and Mom and Victor, and my best fucking friend. Fine, Blair. I hope you’re super happy together.”
He walks away, turning the corner at the end of the street and disappearing from sight, while Jamie and I stand in stunned silence on the sidewalk.
A few streets away, fireworks start in earnest, exploding in the sky overhead, but nothing could shake me to the bone more than everything my brother just said.