Page 103 of Dead Girls Don’t Forget

I was too hollowed out to trust my instincts completely, so I marked it as something to revisit later. The porch boards were dark with rain, and my sneakers left wet shapes on the floor as I let myself in through the back door.

The house was empty. Mira had a Friday lecture and Talia was at the studio until late.

I went straight to my room, peeled out of the wet clothes, and pulled on a soft sweatshirt and the oldest pair of shorts I owned.

Then I sat on the floor with my back against the bed, knees drawn up, and stared at the cactus on the windowsill. The yellow flower was still holding on.

I thumbed my phone awake. The screen was full of him.

Jackson: text me when you get a sec

Jackson: just want to know you're alive

Jackson: okay. starting to get genuinely concerned now

I read them, then set the phone face-down on the rug. The room slowly darkened as the rain kept falling, and still I didn’t move.

It was almost eleven when the phone buzzed again. I picked it up.

11:02 p.m. Jackson: I'm coming over if I don't hear from you by tomorrow.

I read it twice.

11:03 p.m. Jackson: not a threat. mostly

Despite myself, the corner of my mouth twitched faintly. That was the text that finally got through where the softer ones hadn’t. Because I believed him. He absolutely would show up at my house tomorrow if I kept ignoring him. For the first time all day, I didn't feel quite so alone.

I still didn’t answer. Instead I went to bed and slept badly.

Saturday morning arrived gray and cold. I had skipped practice again. I’d texted Coach yesterday about a family emergency and told him I’d be back Monday. The night had dragged, and I woke up feeling wrung out, staying in bed until almost ten before I finally dragged myself upright and reached for my phone.

Me: Alive.

The reply came inside a minute.

Jackson: Good.

Jackson: I was getting close to driving over.

I almost smiled. Almost.

Me: I figured.

Jackson: You okay?

My first instinct was to deflect. Lie. Make a joke and shut it down.

Instead I typed the truth.

Me: Not really.

A longer pause this time.

Jackson: Want to talk about it?

Me: No.

He didn’t push.