Rules of a Rebel and a Shy Girl(72)

Because it would make your life a bit easier.

Because it will eliminate some of your stress.

Because you won’t have to worry about trying to sleep through loud, obnoxious parties. In fact, you’ll always get final say in whether we have a party.

My place is closer to the school, which means you won’t have to drive around in that piece of shit car so much.

Because I love having you around.

Because we can have pillow fights at two o o’clock in the morning.

And don’t forget those midnight talks we always have. Only, instead of having them over the phone, we can lie in bed together and talk.

Because I’ll be the most awesome roommate ever.

Because, while you think you don’t deserve someone helping you, you do.

Because I made a promise to you when we were younger, and making sure I keep that promise is absolutely the most important thing to me.

Because every single night you’re at that apartment, I lie awake in bed, worrying about you.

Because your mom doesn’t deserve to have you around.

Because you shouldn’t be paying for your mom’s rent when she treats you so poorly.

Because I want you to live with me more than I think you realize.

Because you’re my best friend, and I care about you more than anything in the world.

I have more, but I’ll stop there for now. If you’re stubborn about this, I’ll make a list long enough that it takes you forever to read, and then you’ll just be stuck with me until you’re finished.



Care.

Care.

Care.

He cares about me more than anything in the world?

By the time I reach the end, I don’t know whether to cry or laugh.

“I want to take it all back,” I whisper through the tears. “Not just the lies, but the decisions.”

That’s the thing. I can’t take stuff back, no matter how much I want to.

I don’t know how long I stay in the stall, letting tears slip from my eyes, but eventually, I manage to drag my ass off the filthy tile floor.

Unlatching the door, I open the stall and walk out and immediately grind to a halt, blinking and blinking and blinking again, wondering if stress has finally made me hallucinate. No matter how many times I blink, Beck remains leaning against the bathroom door with my bag in his hand and a look on his face like he’s about to approach a skittish cat.

“What are you doing in here?” I rub my eyes, trying to wipe away all the tears. “This is the girls’ bathroom.”

“Really?” He mocks being shocked. “Good thing you told me. I was about to pee in one of the sinks.”

I smile, but the movement aches. “You’re such a little rule breaker.”

“I know.” His intense gaze causes me to step back.

I take another step back as he approaches me, only stopping to avoid bumping into the wall.

“Don’t worry; I’m not going to break your rules,” he says, stopping in front of me.

Breaking the rules was actually the last thought on my mind.

I swallow hard, begging my voice to come out semi-normal. “Why are you in here?”

“To make sure you’re okay.” His gaze travels across me before coming to rest on my eyes.

I can’t read him at all, so I wait for him to say something. All he does is take my hand, brings my palm to his lips, and places a soft kiss against my skin.

“Let me help you, please,” he whispers. “I can’t stand seeing you like this … in so much pain.”

I choke on my next breath as tears flood my eyes. “How can you even want to anymore … after what I told you?”

He places another kiss on my palm. “Nothing you said changed how I feel about you. If anything, it just makes me even more determined to get you to move in with me and get you away from that shit.”

“No one forced me to do it, Beck,” I say, shivering from another kiss. “I chose to work at that place because the money was good, and I was tired of working three jobs and still barely being able to pay the bills. I chose to lie about it because I was too much of a coward to face up to my bad decisions.”

“We all make bad decisions. You know me well enough to know how many times I’ve fucked up.”

“Just because your dad thinks you fuck up, doesn’t mean you actually do.”

“That’s completely untrue. And only you see it that way because you’re a good person who only wants to see the good in me.”

“I’m not a good person,” I choke out.

“Yes, you are.” He touches his lips to my palm again.

“No. I’m. Not.” I’m losing the battle, my will, my everything.

Another kiss. Then another. “You need to stop thinking so poorly of yourself and start seeing yourself for who you are: a kind, caring, beautiful, strong girl who’s survived the shitty hand she was dealt and come out on top. Who graduated, got into college, and paid for her own way. Who took care of her mom when she was way too young to be doing so. Who cares about other people so fucking much she lets herself break apart to take care of them. I just wish you’d let other people care about you … Let me care about you.”