Out of Mind (16 page)

Riley twisted his lips. “If I thought I stood a chance in hell? Yeah. But she loves you, and you’re an idiot to throw it all away.”

Again. He was right. But so was I. This was the right thing to do. I was sure of it. I kept dragging her down, drowning her slowly. It was time to sink alone. “Then I guess you’ll win in the end, because I’m not changing my mind. I’m no good for her like this.” I caught his gaze. “But if you manage to get her to fall for you, you damn well better take good care of her, or you’ll answer to me.”

With that, I climbed the rest of the way up the stairs. When I opened my bedroom door, I stopped in the frame, one foot in and one foot out. She was there, in my room. The first thing I noticed was that she’d changed into pajamas. The second? That she wasn’t crying anymore. She didn’t look pissed, though. She just looked empty.

She looked up when I came into the room, her ravaged face sending a fist of pain through my chest. The black makeup that had streamed down her cheeks like a child’s first finger painting had been washed off at some point. Christ, I couldn’t do this anymore. Couldn’t keep fucking hurting her. I closed the door behind me and collapsed against it.

“Carrie…”

She stood up unsteadily. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave you alone in a second. I just wanted to ask you something without my father standing there watching.” She met my eyes one last time. “Are you just pushing me away for my own good? Or did you really mean it when you said you didn’t love me anymore because of what I’d done to you?”

No
.
No, no, no, no, no
.

I opened my mouth, ready to beg for forgiveness, but then I saw it. The bruise I’d given her. “Y-Yes. I meant it.” I swallowed hard. “Too much has changed between us. I went over there to make myself better for you, to save us, but instead it ruined everything. I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry it has to be this way, but I can’t love you like I used to, and you shouldn’t love me either.”

She bit down hard on her lower lip and nodded, still not crying. “I think it’s my fault, too. I totally get it if you can’t love me because of what I did to you.” She bit down again, even harder. “But we promised each other no more lies. If you do this, if you say this, you can’t show up later and take it all back.”

I shook my head, even though I wanted to hug her. Kiss her. Love her. “I’m not lying.”

“Okay.” She tilted that stubborn chin of hers up again, looking more like her father than ever before. “If it wasn’t for me, for
us
, you would have never been offered that job. You would have never been hurt, and you’d still be the you that you so clearly want to be. I’m sorry for that. So, so sorry.”

My heart wrenched. She couldn’t take the blame. It wasn’t on her shoulders, damn it. She wasn’t the broken one here. “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault. It’s all me. Forget what I said earlier. I didn’t—”

“Don’t go backing down now,” she snapped. Then she regained that calm she’d been showing me, and looked at me with a cool smile. “One more thing. I love you, and I’ll always love you, but I don’t want to ever see you again if this is the end. Don’t come looking for me. Don’t come check on me. It’s done.”

I counted to three in my head. I wouldn’t tell her the truth. I wouldn’t fall to my knees and beg her to forgive me. And I definitely wouldn’t tell her it had all been an act. That I hadn’t really broken any promises to her.

That I loved her with all of my fucking heart and always would.

I closed my eyes. “Carrie…”

“Don’t.” She headed for the door. “Just d-don’t.”

She was making this so damn hard, when all I was trying to do was save her. She needed to leave before I snapped. But when she grabbed the knob, finally ready to leave me alone, I laid my hand over hers. Stopped her. Her skin was so soft. So perfect. So
mine
. How was I supposed to live without her by my side? How was any of this right?

“You won’t see me again,” I promised, meeting her gaze before looking at the bruise again. It kept reminding me I was doing the right thing. “Someday you’ll love someone who actually deserves your love, and I’ll be happy you found him.”

“Yeah. Okay.” She looked away first, tears finally escaping her eyes. “Whatever.”

I moved away from the door, and for the second time that night…

I watched her walk away.

Month one

Without opening my eyes, I shut off my blaring alarm. I slowly rolled over and blinked at the window. The sun was shining bright and cheery, completely opposite of the weather in D.C. It had been so weird coming home without…without
him
. I refused to even think his name—it hurt too much. I fingered my necklace, still staring outside at the bright blue sky. Funny that it was so pretty and cheery outside, when my life felt so dark I didn’t want to move. I rolled over, pulled the covers over my head, and went back to sleep.

Finn

I chugged back another shot, squinting through the dim bar across all the bodies, shouting, and laughter. A girl with red hair turned my way, smiling coyly when she spotted me watching her. It only made me think of Carrie, which made me want to drink more, damn it. I motioned the bartender over, pointing at my empty shot glass. Where was she right now? Was she happy? Sad? Did she miss me as much as I missed her? I didn’t know, but fuck, I wish I did.

Month two

Carrie

I sat up in bed, smoothing my messy hair out of my eyes. I was five minutes late to class, so I needed to move fast. Throwing the covers over the side of the bed, my feet hit the bare floor within seconds. After I tossed my scattered homework into my bag, I hobbled over to my closet¸ eyeing the shirt I’d left curled up in a ball on my pillow. Finn’s shirt. It had taken me three weeks to find it mixed in with my stuff; I’d been that much of a mess. Now I slept with it every night. It calmed me, even while it made me cry. I couldn’t let it go.

Couldn’t let him go.

Finn

I sank onto the bench, a bottle of beer in my hand, glowering at the ocean. I had thought it would bring me peace, being back out here in California. Being near her. But she didn’t even know I was here, and I hadn’t gone near her. I looked down at my ripped jeans and trailed my hand over my scar. The cast was off my arm now, but it still hurt like a fucking bitch. Everything hurt. I had no meaning to my life. Nothing to live for.

No one who cared.

Month three

Carrie

I entered my dorm room, smiling as I shut the door behind me. I’d been out to dinner with Marie and her latest love interest, Sean. For the first time in months, I thought maybe I was starting to feel alive a little bit again. I walked up to the window, staring out into the night. I played with my necklace as I stared at the full moon, wondering where he was right now. If he was okay. If he was happy. I glanced down to where he used to always stand while watching over me…and my heart stopped. I swore, I freaking
swore
, I saw him out there, looking up at me. Pressing my forehead against the glass, I squinted into the darkness, desperately seeking him.

He wasn’t there. I’d imagined the whole thing.

Swallowing past the tears that welled up in my throat, I rested a hand against the glass window. “I miss you, Finn.”

The door opened behind me. I swiped the tears away and left the window.

Finn

I looked up at her, my heart racing so fucking hard I swore she could hear it. I saw her scanning the shadows, looking for me. Had she seen me, or had I imagined that? I tightened my fist around the bottle of whiskey I always seemed to carry around with me, wanting so badly to step into the light and shout her name at the top of my lungs. To beg her to forgive me. To love me again. Then I saw the empty bottle in my hand…and I hated myself.

“I miss you so much, Ginger,” I whispered, dropping the bottle to the grass at my feet. “So fucking much.”

I stumbled forward. I shouldn’t be alive. Shouldn’t be here anymore. Maybe I should go to the beach, take all my pills, and end it. End the suffering, pain, and agony. No. That wasn’t painful enough. I deserved worse.

I deserved to fucking suffer.

Slowly, I made my way to the store, my heart in my throat the whole time. As I stood in the camping aisle, staring at the rope that could end my life, I tried to think of how best to do it. Where best to do it. I didn’t have a house, and hanging myself from a tree seemed too poetic. I just stood there calmly contemplating the best place to die, and I didn’t even care.

I’d hit rock bottom.

Month four

I blinked up at the blinding light, covering my eyes with my hand. Peeking through my fingers, I just managed to catch sight of the bright blonde hair hanging down over my head. I’d been blissfully sleeping moments before, but now the light was freaking killing me. “God, Marie. What the hell?”

“Get up.” She yanked the covers off me, leaving them tangled around my feet. “We’re going out.”

I pulled the covers back up over my sweats and loose T-shirt. “What? No. I’m not going out. It’s…” I looked at the clock. “Uh…eight o’clock at night.”

Wow. I’d have sworn it was at least midnight.

“Yeah. Just noticing the pathetic depths to which you’ve fallen, huh?” She ripped the covers off again. This time I let her. “It’s a Friday night in spring, the weather is perfect, and we’re going to a party whether or not you like it. Enough moping around over him.”

“I’m not moping,” I protested, sitting up and rubbing my eyes. “I’m just tired.”

“You’ve been moping ever since you came back from D.C., and you know it. You woke up and he was gone. It was over. It was tragic and sad. He broke your heart.” She put her hands on her hips. “I’ve allowed you four months to get over it, but enough is enough already. You need to come back to the land of the living. Finn’s gone, but you’re not.”

I swallowed hard at the mention of his name, my fingers automatically closing around the sun pendant. Had it really been four months? It felt like only days ago that I’d woken up to find his room empty. No goodbye. No hugs. Nothing. Just empty, like me.

I nodded. “I know that.”

“Then get the hell up.” Marie headed for the drawers, rummaging through them and slamming them shut in progression. “Ugh. You need one of my dresses. All of yours aren’t right.”