Chapter 45
Jase
So much shit has happened in the last few years. My life is a disaster, but sometimes I’m almost grateful for it. Otherwise, we would never have moved to Boston, and I would never have met you.
—Jase
My heart feels strangely light as I lie back in my own bed that evening, Zoe snuggled up in my arms. We’ve spent practically the whole day in bed, moving from her room in her parents’ house back to the dorm.
From her bed to mine. Now she’s lying next to me, tracing large circles on my chest, and somehow everything’s fine.
What is this thing between us?
Everything.
And it really is. It’s remarkable how far away Mom’s party seems, and the fight with Dad. My breakdown in Zoe’s treehouse. But it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours, and everything has changed. Because of her.
“Why haven’t I ever seen this show?” Zoe asks, snapping me out of my thoughts and reminding me that Peaky Blinders is flickering across the screen of my laptop.
“Because you have a weakness for Gilmore Girls and all the doctor shows in the world.”
She grins. “That’s right. I think—” she breaks off as there’s a knock at the door.
“That must be Skye. I haven’t answered her thousand messages yet.”
Groaning, I swing my legs out of bed and go to the door.
I open it—and immediately wish that I hadn’t.
Mom is standing in the hallway, her hair pulled up in a messy bun that I’ve never seen before.
She’s wearing jeans and an oversized hoodie.
I’m momentarily shocked she’d leave the house dressed this way.
She’s pale, and her eyes are red like she’s been crying.
“Mom, what are you doing here?” I ask.
“Can we talk?”
Fuck no.
“Absolutely not.”
The last thing I want to do is talk to my mother now. Not when I’m finally feeling better for the first time in ages. I don’t want to hear what she has to say.
“Jase, please.”
“No,” I snap at her. “I don’t want to be with you, Mom. Not with you, not with Dad. You celebrated your birthday on the anniversary of Sam’s death, and you didn’t care. You didn’t care how it was affecting me, or Lia either. You just ignored it. Sam’s day isn’t yours.”
Mom flinches. A look of guilt flashes in her eyes, and my heart constricts. But guilt isn’t enough.
“I didn’t ignore it,” she says, but I silence her with a wave of my hand before she can continue.
“Yes, you did. And you know what? I couldn’t care less what you have to say about it. Honestly. It doesn’t touch me. Have your parties. Let Dad talk down to you. Live your life. But leave me out of that shit.”
“Jase, no. Please, let’s talk.” She wrings her hand. She looks like she’s about to burst into tears at any second. In spite of it all, my stomach cramps painfully. I can’t remember the last time I saw Mom cry. But it isn’t enough to make me cave.
“I don’t want to talk to you. Why can’t you ever respect what I want? You’ve completely ignored me for the last two years. You let Dad kick me out. You cut my tuition money because I didn’t do what you wanted. Just do what I ask for once and leave!”
She flinches again at every word I say. I hate this. I just want her to go.
“Jase, please,” Mom begs, but I’m done. I’m done with my whole family that isn’t really a family and the permanent struggle of trying to make them want me. I’m tired of waiting for them to accept who I am. And who I’m not.
Without another word, I close the door in her face and lean against it, breathing heavily. I close my eyes. Why did she come? Why can’t she just leave me alone?
“Jase?” Zoe’s soft, unsure voice reminds me that I’m not alone. I open my eyes. She’s still sitting on my bed, watching me worriedly. She saw everything, and I’m glad.
“Are you okay?”
I shake my head, and she holds out both hands to me. Exhausted, I climb back into bed with her and let her hold me.
We don’t talk anymore. But she’s there, and at some point, I fall asleep.