Chapter Twelve #2
I couldn’t tell you what happened between first period and now if you put a gun to my head. I have no idea who sat next to me, no clue what assignments were due. It’s all a smear of voices and faces, static that crawls under my skin.
The only thing in my head all day has been where the fuck I’m going to sleep tonight. A weight sitting in my chest, as if I’m walking through someone else’s day while mine’s already over.
I’ve let every asshole in this place take shots at me all day.
Liam and his pack, throwing words like stones. Some girls near the lockers whispering about how I love the attention. On any other day I’d slice them open with my mouth, leave them red-faced and wishing they’d never tried.
But today I just took it.
Every jab, every laugh. Every set of eyes crawling over me.
Maybe they can see the crack in my armor.
Maybe my shoulders are broadcasting defeat. Or my silence is louder than any comeback I could spit.
Whatever it is, I wore my weakness like an exposed nerve, and every glance grazed it.
Cassie’s been on my back since third period.
Hovering. Watching. Talking as if saying it out loud solves anything. Throwing out ideas I can’t use and names I don’t trust. Listing off shelters and hotlines and other things she’s probably Googled in the middle of class while I sat there pretending the floor could open up and swallow me whole.
She means well. I know she does.
Even so, that doesn’t stop her from pissing me off.
Every word she says piles on top of me, heavier than the last. Every offer drags me further under.
I’ve told her. Over and over again that this isn’t her fucking problem. That I’m not some stray she needs to look after.
We push through the school doors and down the front steps. Cassie’s right next to me, rattling off another list of ideas, her voice tumbling over itself, desperate and fast.
I don’t even know what she’s saying anymore. I stopped listening a while ago.
There’s no couch to crash on. No shelter I trust. No family waiting at the end of the street.
Just the bag digging into my shoulder.
I keep walking, eyes fixed ahead, hoping that if I move fast enough, the world will blur and she’ll stop trying to save me.
I haven’t told her where I’m going, and she hasn’t asked. But I can feel her eyes on me, weighing every step, waiting for me to crack.
I keep my head down and finally make the choice I’ve been circling all day. I’ll sleep at the town library.
There’s a corner near the front entrance tucked out of sight, wedged between the columns and the brick wall. Half-covered. Quiet.
Not safe. But safer than a park bench.
Cassie slows the moment the library comes into view.
I sense it in the drag of her steps, the space opening up between us, the way her shoulder stops brushing mine. She keeps glancing at me, at the building, and back again.
She knows.
I keep my eyes on the pavement. One foot in front of the other. Pretend I’m just walking, anywhere, everywhere. Not scoping out a corner to sleep in. Not deciding where I’m going to disappear tonight.
“Sky,” she says.
I don’t answer her. I just keep moving forward.
She catches up with me.
“What the fuck are we doing here?”
I stop at the edge of the stone steps, right in front of the alcove.
The spot’s tucked away enough. Mostly hidden, out of view unless someone’s looking too hard.
I drop my bag.
My shoulders cave the second it hits the ground.
Cassie stops cold beside me. Her eyes flick from the duffel to the brick wall then back to my face.
“No,” she says, already shaking her head. “No. You’re not sleeping here.”
I drop down onto the step and lean back against the stone. It’s cold enough to bite through my shirt, grounding in a way that almost feels good.
“I told you,” I say. “I’ve got it handled.”
Cassie’s standing over me, arms crossed. “This isn’t handled.”
“It’s temporary.”
She laughs once. “You’re sitting outside a fucking library, Sky.”
“Just go home,” I say. My voice comes out flat, but my hands won’t stop shaking.
She doesn’t move. “You think I’m gonna fucking leave you here?”
“You don’t have a choice.”
“That’s bullshit.” Her voice rises. “You’re not staying here. I’ll call someone, we’ll find somewhere for you to stay tonight, and we’ll figure it out in the morning.”
“I said no.”
“Why not?”
“Because I said so.”
“That’s not a reason.” Cassie’s breathing is fast now, chest rising and falling. Her voice drops, barely a whisper. “You don’t deserve this.”
I glance away.
“You don’t,” she says again, voice trembling now. “You’re not some throwaway, Sky. “
“I am.”
“You’re not.”
“You should go.” I pull my bag closer.
Cassie doesn’t move.
“Go home,” I say. “You’ve done enough.”
“But I haven’t done anything.”
“Just go home, Cassie,” I whisper. “You can’t fix this. Just… please. Go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Traffic hums in the distance. A light drizzle starts to fall.
Her shoulders sink, but she still stands there, staring at me like she can hold me together just by staying.
I give her a glare that tells her not to fuck with me right now. The one that means I’m hanging by a thread.
She blinks hard, nods once. “Okay.”
She turns and starts walking toward the corner, each step slower than the last, as if she doesn’t want to leave me here alone.
I watch her go, every step pulling her further out of my reach.
When she reaches the corner, I watch her pull her phone from her pocket, tap the screen, and lift it to her ear.
I don’t need to hear the words to know she’s not done trying to save me.