The Force of Gravity(57)

He presses his lips together as if mulling it over, then proceeds with caution. “Truthfully, I’d feel a little better about getting caught, or going public, sometime after your graduation. We’ll still need to be cautious for a while.”

I inhale. “How long is a while?”

He hesitates. “I don’t know. . . . I want to say six months, but honestly, I’d rather wait at least a year.”

Reality smacks me in the face like a stinging snowball.

“At least a year?”

He doesn’t reply.

“Look,” I begin.

“Before you say anything,” he says, cutting me off. “I’m going to be real with you, Kaley. I thought you and I would have a few dates and it would move along slowly, allowing more time to pass. I thought if things ever became serious between us, it would happen way down the road. And by then it would be a safer time for us to take that next step.” He takes a deep breath and slowly releases it. “I’ve tried to take it slow with you. . . . I thought I had it all planned out, that the timing would work to our advantage. But that’s not what happened. I care about you a lot . . . much more than I anticipated this early in the relationship.”

My heart warms, throbs, and shatters at the same time.

“I care about you, too,” I say. “But what are we supposed to do? Your timeline didn’t go as planned. Math doesn’t work for everything—not for human emotions, Slate. And I don’t want to be selfish, but I hate lying to everybody. It’s slowly killing me. I can’t even fathom lying to my family and friends for another year. This is affecting my whole life, and I wasn’t expecting it to be this difficult, either.” I pause as the daunting truth swells in my throat. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but with how strong my feelings already are . . . I don’t think I can handle losing you later on, when my feelings are even more intense. I think I’ve had all the heartache I can handle this year.”

“Baby,” he breathes. He leans forward, taking my hand in his. “Look, I—” He slams his eyes shut for a moment, then fixes his gaze on me. “I know. And you’re right. It’s too much to ask of you, I know that. You’re about to start college, you deserve to live your life and be in a relationship with someone who can take you out to dinner for hell’s sake.”

“I don’t want anyone else, Elijah, but it’s going to be too painful losing you down the road . . . whether it’s weeks from now, or six months from now. I feel like I’m better off starting the grieving process now.” As soon as the words tumble out of my mouth, I want to take them back.

“Kaley,” he whispers. He scoots over to me and pulls me into his arms. “Why are you so sure you’re going to lose me? I’m not going anywhere. Let’s try this, okay? I want to try to make this work.”

“I can’t be in a relationship where I’m stuck in your closet,” I say, my voice cracking.

With my head pressed against his chest, I listen to his heartbeat, counting each one—measuring the silence between us. One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . .

“I should go.” I unravel myself from his hold and stand up.

“Kaley,” he says, but it almost sounds like a distant echo.

He follows me out to the garage in silence, and I stop in front of my car door. I meet his despondent gaze, and it instantly guts my insides.

“Don’t give up on me, Kay. We can figure this out. I promise I won’t break your heart,” he says, brushing a stray hair out of my face.

“It’s already breaking.”

He touches my cheek, then wraps his hand behind my neck, kissing me softly on my quivering lips. “Let’s just see how things are after graduation, okay?”

“Will things be different?” I ask. “I mean, can I at least be open with my close friends? Emily at least? My mom?”

My heart cracks as I read the hesitation on his face. “I don’t know, Kay. I just need some time. I can’t risk it.”

I nod and stare at the floor. “No, I understand. I’m sorry, I don’t want to put you in that situation.”

He doesn’t deserve to risk his entire career for me. He just got done telling me it was all he had left after everything he went through last year. It’s not right for me to demand such a thing.

But it’s not right to ask me to live in a proverbial closet, either.

Maybe if he said a few months—maybe even six months—I could handle it. But at least a year? I have to protect my heart as well.

“I want to see you next weekend,” he says. “I know you have finals to study for, and I have my graduation, but Friday night works for me. Will you come over? Please?”

“Your graduation is next weekend?” I ask. “That’s great, Elijah. Congratulations. I’m sorry, I didn’t even realize.”

“Not your fault. We haven’t seen each other in a while,” he says with a half-smile.

“I’d love to see you walk,” I say.

“Oh,” he says, stepping back slightly. He shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Well, my family will be there, so . . .”

I swallow hard. “Right. No, I was just thinking out loud, sorry.”

And there it is again.

The secrets.

The lies.

The closet.

I’ve been anticipating my own graduation day for so long, naively thinking we’d finally be free, only to realize we’ll still be trapped. We’ll still have to lie to everyone we know. This amazing man who supposedly cares about me more than any other girl, golfs with my principal. They’re buddies. He can’t even introduce me to his family. And he’s expecting me to continue the lies to my loved ones for at least another year.

I need a preemptive strike—take myself out of the game now before I’m in even deeper. My feelings for him are stronger than anything I’ve ever felt before, and I cannot imagine losing him months from now, when my feelings are even more intense. I don’t think my body is capable of bearing such pain.

But that’s the inevitable future for us. I can see that now. He’s everything I want and everything I can’t have.

I switch to autopilot. It’s the only way I can attempt to survive this.

“I really should go,” I say. “And you’re right. I have finals, and it sounds like you’re busy with your family. Maybe we’ll meet up after my graduation and see where we’re at.” I didn’t mean for it to sound like a business deal, but that’s how it came out.

He doesn’t speak as he opens my door. I slide into the driver’s seat and reach into my glove box, pulling out his garage door opener.

I hold it out to him. “Here.”

His features go slack with shock, then winces as if in physical pain. “Kay—” he breathes, cocking his head to the side.

“Just in case I don’t see you.” My eyes dart around his garage. “I don’t want to have to return it later if this doesn’t . . .” My voice falters. “Just take it, please.”

Don’t look at him. You’ll break.

I feel him take it out of my hands before he gently closes my door. I back out of his driveway, glancing up when my tires meet the asphalt. He stands in the garage, his face ashen, not seeming to care that it’s daylight. I tear my gaze away, his forlorn expression etched into my mind as I drive down the road, turning left off of Ironwood Drive.



I AM AN emotionless zombie by the time I make it home, refusing to let my pain reach the surface. But it won’t last long . . . my outer shell is seconds away from cracking. I slip past my dad in the kitchen and bolt up the stairs, tackling two steps at a time and lock myself in the bathroom. It’s the only room in the house with a lock, and I’m desperate for privacy. I turn on the shower, the numbness in my chest beginning to tingle the same way Novocain does when it starts to wear off.

My body shakes as I peel off all my clothes and step into the tepid stream. I turn the temperature as hot as I can stand and collapse onto the porcelain tub floor. Please, God, say I didn’t just make a terrible mistake. As I slump over on my knees, the wound in my chest frees itself and a desperate cry comes pouring out of me—an open-mouthed, silent cry that rips from the innermost part of my being.





CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN



“KALEY?” MY DAD HOLLERS FROM the kitchen just as I am leaving for school.

I hesitate at the door. “Yeah?” He used my full name. Not a good sign.

He steps into the living room, his eyes doleful. “I found a place near Grandma and Grandpa.” He pauses. “I’ll be moving soon.”

The dull pain in my chest nudges awake.

“How soon?” I say, my voice almost a whisper.

“I’ll be leaving right after your graduation ceremony.”

My body goes cold. It’s too fast. Too soon.

“Okay,” I say, my voice brittle.

He steps toward me. “Kaley—”

I put my hand up, halting him.

“It’s okay, Dad. I’m fine. I just have to get to school,” I say, turning for the door.

“Your mom’s moving back in on Saturday,” he rushes.

I turn back around. “What? Where will you be?”