“Because I’m not better than him,” I continued. “He’s not...below me or anyone.”
“No. You misunderstood me,” she said, lowering her voice. “You knew Rider. Knew him. And that was a lifetime ago for both of you. Sooner or later, you’re going to realize that, probably when you’re sitting in your nice house in your perfect little neighborhood. Or maybe when you’re in college and he’s looking for a place to live. At some point you’re going to realize all you two have in common is your past and when you do, you’re going to break his heart.”
I stepped forward. This was what she’d meant in speech, when she’d told me someday I’d let him down. “You’re...wrong.”
She blinked.
“I’d never do that...to him,” I swore. “I’d never hurt Rider.”
“Really?” Her brows flew up. “You’re doing a bang-up job of not hurting him so far.”
I had no idea what she meant by that. I distantly heard the final bell ring, signaling the next period had started, but neither of us made a move to leave.
“He’s lived for years with guilt because of you,” she spat, anger flushing her cheeks. “He had no idea what happened to you and he blamed himself for it all.”
“It—”
“And now you’re back and still convincing him he needs to protect you from everything. Do you think you’re the only one who’s had a tough life?”
I didn’t think that at all.
“Think again, Mouse. I’ve been taking care of my little sister since she was born because my dad is a worthless drunk and my mom
is working two jobs just to put food on the table. And what do you think happens when my dad gets pissed?” she continued, cheeks flushing pink with anger. “I turn into a human punching bag so he doesn’t go after Penny. But do you see me moping around about it? Expecting anyone to take care of me?”
Oh my God.
“But you could never take care of yourself and that sure as shit hasn’t changed. Jesus, you can’t even stand up in front of a class and give a damn speech!” Her voice grew dangerously calm as she delivered that well-aimed blow. “Why do you think no one in class has given you shit about that? Anyone else they’d eat alive, but not while Rider’s there. Oh no, they see him with you and they know not to mess with you. But he can’t always be there. So there’s going to come another time when you can’t handle anything, when you can’t stand up for yourself, and he won’t be there. You’ll fall and he’ll be left picking up the pieces, blaming himself. That’s how it works. That’s how it will always work for you two.”
My mouth dropped open as I stepped back.
“Even now.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You can’t even stand up for yourself. You know what? You’re right. You’re not too good for him. He deserves better.”
Paige stalked away, leaving me standing there in the middle of the empty hall, alone with the truth of her words.
* * *
I woke up early Saturday morning and gathered up my carving supplies. I went through several bars in several hours. My room smelled like Irish Spring. After lunch, and on my third pack of soap, wings took shape along the right side and then the left, held together by a center no wider than my thumb.
I hadn’t slept well Friday night.
Nightmares had woken me up every couple of hours, and it had nothing to do with the party later today. My nerves had taken a backseat.
Paige’s words were haunting me.
They were mean and spiteful, but they were also true. I’d come far, but I...I was still Mouse. I couldn’t even stand up in class to give a speech. I stood there and let Paige drag me through the mud. I didn’t stand up for myself.
Not yesterday.
Not when Carl had dismissed the whole social work thing.
Not when Rosa and Carl made the deal with Mr. Santos.
Paige and I had more in common than I ever would’ve thought we would. She came from a bad home, still lived in one, but she wasn’t like me. She dealt with it. I hid from it.
I’d come so far, but I still...felt weak. Like glassware. If I fell, I would shatter, and Rider would... He would pick up the pieces and he would blame himself. I knew that. Paige was right. That was what we had.
But I couldn’t let that be all that we were.