Looking at me, Rider waited, and I nodded. He followed me up the stairs to my bedroom. I left the door open. Sort of. There was at least a one-inch gap between the door and its frame.
Rider went to the window seat and he sat. His weary gaze followed me. I walked to the side of the bed facing him and sat on the corner. A tired smile pulled at his lips. “I don’t know where to start,” he said.
“Anywhere,” I whispered, clutching the book as hope and wariness warred inside me.
He lowered his chin. “I guess I’ll start with the speech. That was... It was beautiful. The words, what you said, what you meant? But the fact that you got up there and did it was the most beautiful of all those things. I mean it, Mallory.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“I...I wanted to talk to you before class, but I’m glad I heard that speech first. Because I knew you were right before, but now I know it even more.”
I took two breaths.
“You were right about what you said about me, about how I see myself and others, you were right. I don’t give other people a chance to give up on me. I never really thought of it that way before, but you were right.” He dropped his forearms to his knees. “It’s weird. You know, what you said to me at the funeral, about Jayden and that being real? I... God, I could only say this to you, because you understand, but I didn’t feel real. In some ways, I still don’t.”
“I do understand.” I held the book tighter. “I totally do.”
His lashes lifted and his eyes pierced mine. “I know. Both of us were that damn rabbit.” He laughed roughly. “I was sitting in that funeral on Saturday and I...I was thinking about everything. Thinking about how fucking unfair it was that Jayden was in that damn casket and something hit me right then. I’ve been living like I didn’t have anything. No family. No opportunities. No one who really cared if I was here or not, and I was looking at Jayden, sitting next to his brother and his grandmother and I...” His voice cut, and my chest squeezed. “Jayden had a family. He had opportunity. You know? He had plenty of people who cared about him being here, and yet, he still ended up dead in the damn streets.”
Rider shoved his hand through his hair. “And I’m here. I’m so damn lucky, because I haven’t been careful. Henry could’ve easily killed me.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. He was so right there. Many times I’d thought Henry was going to beat him to death.
“When Henry’s friends would come...after me, I used to think I did something, you know? That it was somehow my fault—”
“What? That wasn’t your fault, Rider. None of that was.”
“I know, but sometimes my head gets... It gets messed up.” He paused. “And when I was in that group home, I didn’t care. I got in older, bigger kids’ faces. I got the shit knocked out of me multiple times, and I didn’t care. By the time Mrs. Luna came along, it felt too late for me. She tried. She really did—still does, and I’ve done so many stupid things that should’ve ended my life.”
I hated hearing that. It scared me to death.
“Jayden makes one or two bad mistakes, and he’s dead. Me, I’m still here.” He dropped his head back and sighed. “I’d been given opportunities others hadn’t and I’ve been wasting them, and now I have to really wonder if it is too late.”
“It’s not,” I whispered, truly believing it.
His throat worked on a swallow. “After the funeral, I went home and I picked up that book. I...I started reading it. Don’t even know why, but I got to that part, and I... God, it hit me, you know? The truth of those damn words the Skin Horse spoke. Being real could hurt. Being loved could hurt. That’s what...what living is all about and the opposite is unimaginable.”
Lowering the book to my lap, I smoothed my palm over the hard, glossy surface as I thought about the Skin Horse’s words. They could be interpreted in so many ways. To me, they were all about letting go of the fear of being imperfect. Accepting that it was okay to be wanted and needed and loved, to be heard and seen.
Rider and I were a lot like the little boy and the rabbit who wanted to be real. Both of us spent so long relying on only each other. We’d been tossed aside, unwanted. And we wanted nothing more than to be cherished, treasured and loved. We wanted to feel real. Both of us were afraid of the opposite. To some the opposite was death but to me—to us—it was being stuck forever. Never changing. Never seeing ourselves or others around us differently.
“I do,” he continued, voice gruff. “I do care. I don’t want to be like this forever.”
My gaze rose to his.
“I broke up with you because I thought it would be better that way. That you would eventually find someone who has their shit together, who has a future and isn’t stuck. Things were—are—messed up in my head. I’m trying, really trying, to change that.”
I stilled.
“I know you may never forgive me for hurting you. I can understand that. I can also understand if you don’t want to have to deal with me while I’m trying to do better, be better, but I...I want to be the person I think you deserve.”
Oh, my...
“I want to be the guy with a future, with his shit together and who has hope,” he admitted, scooting toward the edge of the window seat. His gaze met mine and those beautiful eyes carried a sheen that tore through my heart. “I want to be the guy worthy of your love, and I swear, if you’ll have me, I’ll do everything in my power to be that man. I’ll never stop trying. Ever.”
Oh, my, my...
“And I want you to know that I heard what you said in that speech,” Rider said, his voice scratchy. “I might’ve saved you all those years ago, but now you’ve saved me.”