Fuck. I wish I could be the one thing in her life that’s rock fuckin’ solid no matter what.
But I fucked that up.
“You’re young,” I say, hoping she doesn’t take that wrong. “There’s lots of time to mend fences. But I think, someday, you’re going to wish you had some contact with your family.”
She swipes her finger beneath her eyes, banishing tears from her cheeks. Something I should be doing.
“Will you watch a Christmas movie with me?” she asks, her eyes yearning for me to say yes. “I don’t want to go to sleep yet. Who knows where I’ll be next year for the holidays? I just want to enjoy being in a nice cozy house, and look at our pretty tree, and forget about reality for a little while.”
My stomach burns. I guess next year I’ll be back to spending holidays with Uncle Al and Aunt Suzy, and coming home alone to just my dog.
I nod. “Yeah,” I answer. “Let’s do that.”
I’d like to forget about reality for a little while, too.
Chapter 45
Skylar
At the front of the class, my English teacher drones on and on. It’s my first week back after the holiday break, and I try to pay attention, but my thoughts keep wandering back to Jude.
I focus on the hole in my jeans and scribble a heart on the revealed skin with my pen, then write Lucky’s name next to it in little blocky letters.
Now I get why people get tattoos with the name of the person they love. I want his name etched into my body forever. With me always. ’Til death do us part. Just like the vows promised.
But we’re not meant to be, after all.
Maybe the vows really were just lies we had to tell.
Jude has been spending most of his time in the garage after work and on weekends, working on his motorcycle. Apparently, he’s rebuilding his engine, but I wonder if it’s mostly to avoid being in the same space as me. He knows I won’t wander into the garage after his sister accosted me in there. There’s still a shadow of the blood stain on the garage floor, and it freaks me out.
I’m dying to open the necklace and put the letters together. It’s killing me not knowing what the letters spell out. Still, I refrain from doing so, because it doesn’t feel like the right time. I’m not even sure how I’ll know when the right time is.
But, I’ll wait for it to come.
“You’re so pathetic,” a voice to my right says. “Writing a pedophile’s name on your leg. So trashy.”
“Not nearly as pathetic as that makeup job trying to cover the bump on your nose,” I shoot back.
I think Paige’s dad ran out of money, because her perfect nose has yet to be resurrected by her plastic surgeon after I slammed it with my lunch tray.
I have no regrets.
She glares at me.
I smile back.
Technically, we’re not supposed to be near each other after the cafeteria incident, but the people who run this school are a joke and don’t even enforce their own rules. Therefore, I’m subjected to her endless torment every day.
“My older cousin went to school with your husband,” Paige whispers from her seat. “She said he was a stoner and a drug dealer. She said he had girls lining up giving him blowjobs at parties in exchange for joints and pills. She said she saw him having a threesome in a hot tub once, too.”
I grind my teeth together. I don’t know if any of that crap is true, and I’m not sure I really want to know.
I continue to fill in the little heart on my leg. “Sounds like your cousin was a nosy bitch in high school, too. Must run in your family.”
“You’re such a loser, Skylar. Your own parents didn’t want you, so you basically had to have some guy adopt you and raise you as a little wife-slave. Why don’t you just kill yourself?”
I wonder if stabbing her with my pen would be considered assault.
No.
I won’t do it.
This is my favorite gel pen.
My silence only eggs her on. “We’ve seen you going into that medical building downtown twice a week. We all know you’re seeing a shrink. What’s wrong with you? Are you depressed, little baby?”
“Leave her alone.” Mark, the kid who sits behind me, has come to my defense. I have no idea why, since we’ve barely spoken two words to each other since school started months ago.
“Oh, please,” Paige sneers. “You’re not going to get your dick wet defending her, Mark. She’s a married woman. By the way, Skylar, where’s your wedding band? Or couldn’t your drop-out, drug dealer husband afford one?”
“Just leave her alone. Stop being such a cunt.”
“Are you cheating on your husband already, Skylar? Figures, you dirty slut.”
“Excuse me,” Mr. Gold says loudly. “Unless you want to get up here and teach the class, I suggest you all shut your mouths.”