Chapter 33
MY FAULT
JESSE
The Black by Imminence
The beach stretches golden in every direction, afternoon sun turning the sand into scattered diamonds.
Joey walks ahead of me, with her long legs and bare feet leaving prints in her wake.
Her hair is lighter from the summer sun, streaked with strands of honey.
Her laughter is carried toward me on the salt breeze, and the sound makes my heart feel too big in my chest.
“Come on, slowpoke.” She spins to face me, walking backward. “The tide pools won’t wait forever.”
I push myself to catch up, my feet dragging in the sand, and when I reach her, she threads her fingers through mine. She’s woven herself into every version of tomorrow I dare to picture. I just haven’t found the courage yet to tell her.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks.
You. It’s always you.
“Nothing.”
She bumps her shoulder against mine. “Liar.”
Of course she would know I’m lying. I hide my smile from her.
The tide pools appear ahead, clusters of life trapped in rocky hollows.
Joey releases my hand to crouch beside one, peering at the colorful anemones and tiny crabs like they hold the secrets of the universe.
I hang near and watch her, the furrow of concentration on her brow, the gentle way she dips her fingers into the water. She handles everything with such care.
“Jesse, come see this starfish.”
I kneel beside her. The starfish clings to the rock, orange and alien and stubbornly alive despite being stranded between tides. Joey traces a finger along one arm.
“They can regenerate, you know. If they lose a limb, they grow another,” she says, her gaze locked on mine. “Did you know they don’t have a brain? And it’s really gross but they can push their stomach outside of their body.”
She rambles when she’s nervous. I can’t stop staring at her lips, and I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to kiss her.
It feels like gravity pulling me forward, the inevitability of it.
Just when I get up the nerve, a wave crashes into us, knocking us both down.
Joey laughs, grabbing onto me for support, but it’s her who has to help me up.
The water’s been pulled back out but my body feels heavy like treading water.
After that day, I would never get another chance to kiss her because something had taken root inside of me that I didn’t have a name for yet.
I would never be the same.
I didn’t understand what was happening inside of my head. I couldn’t make myself care about food or showering or the text messages piling up on my phone. My mind was a scary place and I was a prisoner.
“This is my fault.” My dad’s voice comes from the kitchen while I stood around the corner, out of sight. “I did this to him. This is why I shouldn’t have had kids, Erin. I gave him this broken part of me, and now he’s—”
I went back to my room because I didn’t want to listen anymore, but the words burrowed deep. I felt just as broken as my dad thought I was. I couldn’t look Joey in the eyes after that, because she’d always been able to see me. I didn’t want her to see me anymore.
Someone’s pounding on the door, or maybe it’s just the pounding in my head. Then I hear a voice before the door swings open.
“Jesse? What the—Jesus Christ.” The mattress dips as she climbs onto the bed. There’s a hand on my shoulder, shaking me gently. “Hey. Hey, look at me. How long have you been like this?” She shakes me harder, but I have nothing to give her. “Jesse, it’s Stella. Can you hear me?”
I can hear you.
“I’m calling someone. Shit. Who do I call?” There’s a long pause and the mattress shifts. I curl up tighter. “I’m gonna call Joey. Just hang on.”
No. Don’t call her. Don’t let her see me like this.
“I’m here,” she murmurs. “You’re not alone.”
I hang onto those words as much as I can.
I’m glad you’re here.
I know she’s here, and that it matters even if I can’t say it.