Never Let Go (19 page)

“
Drink
,” Spencer demands. “If you refuse, I’ll get the doctor. I’m sure he’ll have a lot of questions about how you got that cut.”

I swallow and decide it’s in my best interest to comply. The last thing I want is a medical intervention-slash-interrogation where I’m bound to be deemed a danger to myself.

I take the cup from Spencer’s hand, careful not to touch his fingers, and drink.

Once I finish, I put the cup beside me on the bed. I drank slowly, on purpose, to buy myself time before the conversation. But there’s no delaying it any more.

I decide the best way—the only way—to proceed is to take the offensive. I make my voice hard. “Why are you here?”

Spencer sputters in disbelief. “Why am
I
here? Are you fucking serious?”

“I don’t want to see you,” I say.

“Is that why you did it?” he demands. “Is that why you tried to kill yourself? So you wouldn’t see me?”

The lump that forms in my throat is so big I’m afraid it will obscure anything I try to say. I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head.

“Paige!”

Spencer’s harsh voice makes my eyes snap open.

“Dammit, Paige, look at me!”

The heat, the edge, the raw emotion in his words is too much to ignore. I turn my head as slowly as I can, and lay my eyes on the last person in the world I want to see.

“Did you,” Spencer repeats, “or did you not, try to
kill yourself
because you did not want to see me?”

The fire in his eyes scares me. I’ve never witnessed such intensity before. I’m worried anything I say—true or not—will be taken as heresy.

I’m weak. I’m pathetic. I know this. Succumbing to the weakness… comes all too easily. I swallow again, and shake my head a bare fraction.

“Fucking hell!” Spencer explodes. He jabs a finger in my face. “Don’t lie to me, Paige. Don’t you
dare
. Not now!”

“I’m not lying,” I whisper.

“Really? So the smashed mirror, the perfect cut along your arm, that was just an
accident
?” Spencer’s words are full of venom.

“Yes,” I breathe.

Spencer throws his arms up. “Why, Paige? Do you really think I’m such an idiot? I convinced the doctors this was an accident because I knew how’d they harass you if they thought it wasn’t. But you’re going to have to do better for me. What the hell happened to you this morning?”

I shake my head. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to go back and relive all the things I did wrong.

“Dammit, talk to me! The way you’re acting isn’t normal!”

“I know,” I whimper. “I don’t know how to explain it. I did not try to kill myself. But I had to… had to get away.”

Spencer’s expression softens. “You had to get away. From me?”

I nod and squeeze my eyes shut to try to stem the tears. One leaks down my cheek anyway. “I…
looked
at you. At your…”

I can’t say it. I rub my hands nervously, feeling unclean again.

The room goes quiet except for the beeping of machinery. I don’t dare open my eyes. I feel a heavy weight settling between me and him.

Without warning, Spencer unleashes a great guffaw. My eyes pop open in surprise, agitation, shock—whatever you want to call it. This is not the reaction I expected.

“
That’s
what has you so riled up? You think you…” he trails off, unable to contain his laughter. “You think…”

“It’s not funny,” I say, suddenly taking offense. “You were sleeping. It was wrong,” I declare.

Sensing my mood, Spencer dials back the laughter. A few chuckles still escape as he speaks. “Paige, kitten, it’s pretty much every guy’s fantasy to wake up to girl lusting after him. It would have been better if your mouth had been involved, I’ll admit, but still…”

I flush scarlet red. “You mean, you’re not mad at me?”

“Mad?” Spencer stands up and cups my face to kiss my forehead. The gesture takes me by surprise. “I’m not mad, kitten. Not for that. No way in hell. But for what you did after…”

He sits down, and his eyes grow dark. “I’m not here to judge you. But you need to tell me the truth about what happened in the bathroom.”

My voice turns small. “I didn’t try to kill myself, Spencer. I promise.”

“Okay. So how do you explain the shattered mirror? The cut along your arm?”

“I panicked,” I admit. “I felt trapped. I saw my reflection in the mirror, and I…” I shudder, afraid to face the memory. Seeing my headmaster in the mirror? I can’t tell Spencer I’m insane. “I saw an ugliness in myself. I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t bear it.”

I lift my head and force a laugh. “So I did the only thing I could to erase the image.”

Spencer looks deep into my eyes. I swallow. I feel very vulnerable right now. Who could have imagined I’d end up here, with
him
, of all people?

“I believe you,” he says quietly. “I think you are telling the truth.” He picks my hand up and runs his fingers along the edge of the stitches. “But you have to promise me never to do anything so rash again.”

I bob my head up and down. “I promise,” I whisper. Who is this man, to care so much about me? Seeing the compassion, the concern, on his face is something I never could have expected. Not out of
Spencer
.

But we all have a mask we hide behind, afraid to show who we really are. It’s usually our dark side that we hide.

Spencer hides his
best
.

This type of sympathy is completely at odds with the persona of Spencer I’d built up in my mind. But now, it seems to
fit
. It fits the person I’m starting to see he really is.

“And Paige?”

I look up.

“There is no ugliness in you. You’re beautiful.”

I smile sadly as my heart breaks inside. “You don’t know that.”

“No.” Spencer shakes his head. “
You
don’t know that, kitten. I’m going to spend every minute of… whatever we have between us… proving it to you.”

I close my eyes to gather my strength. I don’t deserve this. Why is he being so sweet? Why—

“Oh God, Katy!” I burst out. I’m an idiot! How could I have forgotten about her?

“Relax. Paige, look at me.” Spencer takes my hand again. “Kate made it through the night. The worst is over. She made it. She’s alive.”

Alive
! I’m so happy I could sing. I can’t stop the tears from swelling in my eyes.

“Paige? Did you hear me? Kate’s alive. Why are you crying?”

“I… I don’t know,” I blubber. “I’m just happy.” I wipe at my eyes. “It’s emotional for me, I guess.”

“Girls,” Spencer mutters, leaning back in his seat. “Crying when you’re sad, crying when you’re happy. How is a guy supposed to know which one’s which?”

That gets a small smile out of me.

“Spencer?” I say. “Thank you for taking care of me. Bringing me here. Staying until I woke up.”

“It’s not like you gave me much choice,” he points out. “But I would never have abandoned you.”

“Can we see Katy now? Is she nearby?”

Spencer shakes his head. “She’s still under close surveillance. And still unconscious. They’ll tell us when she wakes up.”

***

Katy spends the next three days in the hospital. Spencer and I both have class, but we make time to see her. A sort of unspoken, communal bond forms between me and him.

We don’t talk about what happened in his apartment. But the penetrating looks Spencer directs at me every once in a while let me know he hasn’t forgotten.

When Katy is released on the fourth day, she is energetic and full of life. I don’t bring up the weight loss drugs. It’s too soon. When she’s ready, and only
if
she wants to, I’ll be there to talk to her about them. But not yet.

Besides, one condition of her release involves regular counseling for the next three months. She’ll have ample opportunity to discuss the drugs there.

I don’t run into Andrew at all. That disappoints me, despite what happened with Spencer. I hoped he’d have taken the initiative to find me by now.

In the midst of everything, I miss a few practices. I talk to the aquatics director about it, blaming it on my need to focus on school. I neglect to mention the gnash that I’ve been hiding beneath long-sleeve shirts since my hospital stay.

He agrees that academics should come first. That doesn’t hide his disappointment, however. But more pressure is the last thing I need right now. My scholarship depends on maintaining good grades, so class has to take priority anyway.

A week after Katy comes home, I bump into Spencer while rushing from the student center to class. My economics professor, Paul Bauer, is a stickler for punctuality. He has the teaching assistants dock points from the final exams for anyone who shows up late even once.

“Hey, hey, what’s the rush?” Spencer asks, catching me by the elbow as I pass.

“I have to run,” I tell him, sneaking an anxious glance at the large clock on the face of the building. “I have less than two minutes to get to Emerson Hall.”

Spencer whistles. “That’s all the way across campus. There’s no way you can make it.”

“Thank you, Spencer, for the helpful reminder,” I say scathingly.

He looks me up and down, oblivious as always to my snarkiness. Then he nods to himself and grabs my hand. “Come on.”

He pulls me after him so fast I can barely protest. “What? Spencer, let go! Emerson Hall is the
other
way!”

“I know,” he tells me over his shoulder. “But my bike’s parked over here.”

I stare at him. “You want to give me a ride?”

He shrugs. “Why not? That’s what friends do, right?”

I smile to myself. “Right.”

“Besides, I can’t bear the thought of you tripping and scuffing up those tight little jeans of yours,” he grins.

The girl Spencer was with when I saw him catches up to us just as the engine roars to life.

“Dude, what the hell?” she pouts. “You’re just going to ditch me for her?” She shoots a disgusted glance my way. “You said we’d get lunch together today!”

“No, I said I’d let
you
buy
me
lunch,” Spencer corrects. He turns to me and adds in a stage whisper, “Tiffany’s been hounding me for weeks about it.”

The girl huffs, but whatever she says next is drowned out by the roar of Spencer’s engine.

I wrap my arms tight around his body as he zooms out of the lot. He maneuvers through traffic like a street racer, dodging cars and running stop signs to get me to Emerson Hall in time.

I scream as I cling to him, terrified I’ll fall off, exhilarated by his mastery of the bike, and thrilled by the rush of adrenaline that’s coursing through my body.

When he pulls up outside the lecture building less than a minute later, my heart is pounding faster than if I’d have sprinted all the way.

I gulp down air. My whole body’s shaking. I’ve never experienced
anything
like that before.

Spencer grins at me as I stumble off the bike. “You like that?”

I hit his arm. “Are you mad? Do you want to get both of us killed?”

“Yeah, you liked it,” Spencer smirks.

“Please don’t tell me you make a habit of driving like that. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep at night knowing you’re on the streets risking your life.”

Spencer laughs. “So, you finally admit you care about me?”

I stick my tongue out at him in reply.

He nods toward the building, reminding me of my destination. I turn around, and immediately feel his hand slap my ass.

I jump and my cheeks go bright red.

“Go on, then,” Spencer grins. “I won’t have you showing up late after what I went through to get you here.”

I turn to glower at him, but he’s already kicked off. As I watch him leave, I can still feel the impression of his hand on my skin. It doesn’t feel wrong. It feels… kind of hot.

***

I’m nodding off during Professor Bauer’s usual, dry lecture when my phone buzzes with a text. I turn it on and check the screen.

Spencer
: Fun riding w you ;) I know you’re free after class, so how about that date we postponed? I think you owe me a rain check.

I consider turning him down just for a moment, then think better of it. I have nothing against Spencer anymore.

Me
: Pick me up @ 5.

Chapter Twenty

I return to our dorm to find Katy playing keep-away with Pickles and a spot of light that reflects from her iPhone.

Katy keeps the spot still as Pickles crawls up to it. Right as he pounces, she jerks it away.

“That was his favorite game back home,” I laugh, pouring myself some water.

Katy giggles. “He looks so serious when he’s stalking the light.” She squeals. “Oh, look! Look! See how his ears perk up when he gets close?”

I laugh and pick Pickles up. He squirms out of my grip, upset that I’ve interrupted his hunt.

When he lands on the floor, he runs to the far wall and starts jumping up to reach the little ball of light.

“Don’t tease him forever or he’ll get bored,” I warn, settling on the couch behind Katy.

“He wouldn’t know what to do if he caught it,” she answers.

I smile, watching Pickles’ mad attempts to rush up the wall. I’m happy he has found himself a home here.

“So what are your plans for the rest of the day?” I ask Katy.

She grimaces and sets down her phone. The ray of light comes to a stop on the floor.

Pickles leaps at it. He looks a little confused when it doesn’t jerk away. He paws at it a few times, then, realizing it’s “dead,” swings his tail up and walks away.

“I’ve got my first stupid counseling meeting,” Katy moans. “I made a mistake
once
. And they want to keep reminding me about it for twelve weeks? Lame.”

“Maybe if you convince them of that, they’ll let you off early,” I offer.

Katy blows out her cheeks. “Pfft. I fucking doubt it. Even worse, I’m to be paired up with one of those wannabe shrinks from the graduate school.” She frowns. “There’s nothing more demoralizing than having my actions picked apart by someone barely older than I am.”