Page 78 of Head Under Water

His face goes very still. I watch him weighing what I’ve said. He tilts his head to the side. “Don’t do that. We both know I quit hating you a long time ago. I’ve just been waiting for you to catch up.”

Something twists in my stomach. “Liar.”

He rolls his eyes, looking away, but it’s with a hint of a smile. “Believe what you want.”

“You haven’t given me a reason to believe otherwise.”

“Haven’t I?” He runs his tongue along his bottom lip. “I don’t know. Maybe we just like to piss each other off. Maybe that’s our thing.”

“Because no one’s allowed to be mean to me except you, right? That’s what you said,” I remind him. “That’s why you punched Banks and why you were mad at Cory and why you’ve done all the other stupid shit you’ve done. Because you’ve decided you just get to keep hurting me. It’s fun for you. But friends aren’t mean to each other. And they aren’t jealous.”

His gaze locks on mine. “That’s why I punched Banks,” he repeats. His eyes are narrow, thoughtful. “That’s what you think?”

“You were jealous. You didn’t want me to be happy. You’ve never wanted me to be happy. I saw your hand, and I saw his bruise. And right after, you dropped the volunteer program and quit talking to me. I didn’t need a statistics degree to put it together.”

His face goes soft with bitter laughter. “And you never asked him about it?”

“He told me he walked into his door.”

His head goes back with a slow nod, chin drawn up. “Well, that’s good to know.”

“Care to defend yourself? To tell me I’m wrong?” I stand up from the chair, letting out a long, shaky breath.

His eyes follow me as I move, but his expression stays still, unchanging.

This is all too much right now. I can’t do it. I can’t fight with him. I don’t have time.

“Forget it, Will.” We couldn’t be fake friends back then. How could I ever think we’d make it as real ones now? How could I ever think we could work together on this? “Good luck at your mom’s. I’ll let you know when I’ve found my new place.”

He doesn’t say anything, just watches me walk out the door. When I close it behind me, my chest is heavy with all the things we didn’t say.

CHAPTER FORTY

PRESENT DAY

The next day at school, George approaches me at recess. It’s nice to see a friendly face. “I heard you had a family emergency over the weekend. Hope everything’s okay.”

I brush his arm with my hand, not sure what to say. Everything’s definitely not okay, for every reason possible. Margie. Will. My living situation. Ruth. Mom. But I don’t have the time—or the bandwidth—to dig into all that’s going wrong right now.

“Thank you,” I say simply. “I appreciate you checking. It’s been a”—my voice catches—“rough few days, but I’m tough.”

“I imagine you’d have to be. To deal with this crew.” His smile is soft as he gestures toward the students running wild on the playground. “Doesn’t mean you don’t need a friend. Is there anything I can do?”

His kindness makes me sad. It makes me feel hopeless. Will I ever be in a position to offer help? Or will I always be the one needing help?

This pain seems like it’ll last an eternity.

“I’ll let you know if there ever is,” I tell him.

He pats my shoulder, then backs away, looking regretful. “I should get back to the gym before my next class. But you call if you need anything, you hear me?”

When he’s gone, a cold numbness locks my jaw. What is it about pain that makes it feel so permanent? I’ve survived everything life has thrown at me thus far, and yet every time I’m hurting, I’m certain it will always feel this bad.

This is different though.

To lose Ruth and potentially Margie in such a short time, it’s the kind of loss you just don’t get over. Not really.

After school, I stop by Mom’s. I’m in no hurry to go back to Will’s.