Rules of a Rebel and a Shy Girl(61)

My mom is gone by the time I make it into the kitchen, and while I’m scared of where she might be and what she may be doing, I don’t want her here.

When I return to my room, I begin picking up the broken glass. With each piece I throw away, a tear slips from my eye. By the time I finish, I’m bawling.

I sink to the floor and hug my legs against my chest, allowing myself to cry for a minute or two until I’m on the verge of losing it. Then I put the floodgates back up, trapping the pain and worry inside.

As I stumble to my feet to go get my phone, I notice a single snow globe beside the back of the dresser. I crawl over to see which one survived and don’t know whether to smile or frown at the Eiffel Tower inside the glass ball.

I don’t know what that means or if it means anything, but I pick up the snow globe Beck gave me and tuck it safely in my dresser drawer. Then I collect my phone off my bed to call Wynter and do something completely out of the ordinary for me: ask her if I can move in with her without a new job lined up, without having a plan. I don’t want to do it. I don’t want to jump into something without knowing I can handle the entire situation. But staying here isn’t an option anymore. Not after this.

I dial her number, sitting on my bed, holding my breath.

“Hey,” Wynter answers the phone cheerfully. “I was actually just about to call you and see if you want to go shopping with me. I need a dress for this stupid party my parents are having.”

“I’d love to go, but I have to work,” I say, biting my fingernails.

“All right, what’s up? I know something has to be up when you say stuff like you’d love to go shopping with me.”

“I need a favor.” Only four words, but it takes all of my strength to get them to leave my lips.

“Of course.” She sounds surprised. “What’s up?”

“I need a place to live.” Shame strangles me. “I know you said that Luna might be moving out, and I thought maybe I could rent her room for a bit.”

She doesn’t answer right away, making my anxiety skyrocket.

“I really wish you would’ve called a few days ago.” Her tone conveys remorse. “I just leased out the room to someone else. I even had her sign a contract.”

My chest tightens, squeezing every ounce of oxygen out of me. “That’s okay.” I force a fake, even tone. “I’m sure I can find another place to rent.”

“What me to go apartment hunting with you?” she asks. “We can start by checking the places around campus.”

“That’s okay,” I lie, knowing all those places are full. “I think I’ll just go after class tomorrow.”

“Are you sure? I really don’t mind going with you.”

“It’s fine.” I’m fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. The word is really starting to lose all meaning.

“Okay, well let me know if you change your mind.” She pauses. “Although, I might know someone who would rent a room to you for dirt cheap.”

A glint of hope sparkles inside the sea of despair I’m drowning in. “Really? Who?”

She hesitates. “Beck.”

The glint of hope simmers into a thin trail of smoke. “I think I’ll check around the apartments first and see how that goes.”

She sighs. “Okay, but just so you know, I doubt there will be many to rent during the middle of the year. It would be a lot easier if you just stayed with him. You could always move out at the end of the year when places start opening up.”

I want to explain to her why I can’t live with Beck, but I fear I’ll be opening Pandora’s box.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Good.” She seems to relax. “Let me know what you decide.”

“I will.”

We say good-bye then hang up. I lie down in my bed and curl up into a ball, wishing life was easier, simple, less complicated.

Wishing I didn’t feel like I was drowning and about to be forced to take my final breath.





Chapter Eighteen



Beck



I’m working in my dad’s office, sorting files on his computer, trying not to worry that Willow hasn’t called me back, when my phone rings.

I lean back in the chair to retrieve it from my pocket, expecting the call to be from Willow since she told me she’d call me back. But Wynter flashes across the screen, and I hesitate, unsure if I want to answer. Yeah, Wynter’s my friend and everything, but she can be a real pain in the ass sometimes, at least to me. But ignoring her seems like kind of a douchey move, so I press talk and put the phone up to my ear.

“What?” I answer, balancing the phone between my shoulder and my ear so I can continue working and not prolong my time here.