Chapter Twenty-Four #2
I cannot feel my heart beating or the expansion of my lungs. Every emotion I could possibly be feeling in this moment is replaced with one devastating thought: run.
I should leave now and not look back. If I do, I won’t have to face their disgust or this one truth. The one I have been hiding for almost as long as I’ve known any of the people in this room.
The most important people in my life, aside from my parents, are staring at the proof of my malicious personality. Right here, in front of all of us, is the proof that I almost killed a kid with my bare hands over some childhood taunting.
Something inside of me is screaming, “But I’m not that kid anymore! I promise I’m not rotten! Please don’t leave me alone; I swear I can be better than this!” but no one can hear it.
Only me, stuck in this loop of run and explain, can hear the distraught child within me, begging to be heard.
“This is why,” Everett explains. “If I don’t do what he says, this will be all over Florida within days.”
Ash is going to use my past to blackmail his son? He’s going to ruin my life all because Everett cares for me?
How did he find this? Juvenile court doesn’t publicize its cases, and my family made sure to keep things hushed. They even made a deal with Jerome’s family before they moved to assure their secrecy. So how?
“So you went to juvie?” Henry asks, taking in the title of the document. “That’s what he has over you?”
I can feel the weight of Everett’s gaze on me, but I cannot tear my blurry eyes from the papers. The life I have so carefully created for myself through years of work is crumbling around me, and I can’t breathe.
“Not Ev,” Kelly says softly. “Sky.”
“Skylar went to juvie?” Henry nearly shouts.
“Almost.” It leaves me as a hushed gasp, a shameful admission. “I…”
But I can’t explain. The part of me that is screaming to be understood is overshadowing the part of me that can give them the facts. It’s a paradox in its own form.
“Oh. How does that hurt Everett?”
“You are such a moron,” Kelly sneers. “Clearly his dad is threatening to ruin Skylar’s life by revealing this, and it’s working because Ev loves him.”
Love. Ev loves him.
Everett says nothing as Kelly and Henry bicker. I still cannot face him.
“What did you do, Sky? Petty theft?” said moron grills.
“I… Well, I…” Harsh, heavy breaths leave me. I think I might be hyperventilating as I try to explain.
“Sky,” Everett calls out, taking a step to round the bed.
I stumble backward, creating some distance. What if he gets too close, and as I reach for him, he flinches? I wouldn’t be able to stomach that. I can’t even stomach this.
“I almost killed him,” I whisper, my hands cupping the space before me to catch my falling tears. “He called me a faggot, and I nearly killed him.”
“Oh, shit,” Henry mutters.
“B-but I was young,” I rush out, finally feeling my heartbeat as it pulses through my veins at an incredible speed.
I look between Kelly and Henry in a panic.
“I was just a kid, and I had—well, have—bad anger problems, and I just blacked out. I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t mean to put him in a coma.”
Kelly gasps, a hand rising to cover her mouth.
“Once I came to, the police were there, and everything just happened too fast. One moment he was spitting in my face and the next he was so bloody I couldn’t even make out who he was anymore. But please, please don’t hate me. I didn’t… I wouldn’t… I’m so sorry.”
The word vomit rips at my throat, causing my voice to become hoarse and my nose to run. I have never felt this guilty, not even in court. I’m not used to feeling insecure or judged, and right now I can feel both so heavily that I’m crushed under the weight.
Neither of my friends speaks, only staring at me with wide eyes and open mouths.
They hate me.
I am the monster the world once said I was, and nothing I do or have done will change that.
I’m trembling, panting as I back away another step. And then another.
“Skylar.” Everett’s voice penetrates my panic, causing my gaze to finally snap to his.
He’s staring at me so softly, so reverently, that I begin to actually cry. A sob breaks free, and I slap a hand over my mouth to stifle it.
“I’m sorry,” I push out around the barrier pressed to my lips.
“Don’t,” he interjects, rounding the bed once more. “Don’t apologize to me. There’s no need.”
So he’s done. There is no need to apologize because he no longer wants to offer his forgiveness.
I once thought that I could survive without him, even if it hurt—but now, seeing it pan out before me, I am no longer certain that is true. I might not survive this at all.
“No one will ever know,” he continues. “My leaving ensures that. If I stay away, your past stays a secret.”
“It’s my fault.” My hand falls back to my side, and I try to force all of my remorse into one helpless expression as I stare back at him. “I’ve ruined your life.”