“It’s all your fault! It’s your fault, you worthless piece of shit,” his father screamed over and over and over again until I threw up right there, all over a patch of dandelions.
Adam didn’t cry. He stayed curled up on the ground until his father gave up, until he drove away. Only once he was sure everyone was gone did his body break into heaving sobs, his small face smeared into the dirt, his arms clutching at his bruised abdomen. I couldn’t look away.
I could never get that sound out of my head, that scene out of my head.
That’s when I started paying attention to Adam Kent.
“Juliette.”
I suck in my breath and wish my hands weren’t trembling. I wish I had no eyes.
“Juliette,” he says again, this time even softer and my body is in a blender and I’m made of mush. My bones are aching aching aching for his warmth.
I won’t turn around.
“You always knew who I was,” I whisper.
He says nothing and I’m suddenly desperate to see his eyes. I suddenly need to see his eyes. I turn to face him despite everything only to see he’s staring at his hands. “I’m sorry,” is all he says.
I lean back against the wall and press my lids shut. Everything was a performance. Stealing my bed. Asking for my name. Asking me about my family. He was performing for Warner. For the guards. For whoever was watching. I don’t even know what to believe anymore.
I need to say it. I need to get it out. I need to rip my wounds open and bleed fresh for him. “It’s true,” I tell him. “About the little boy.” My voice is shaking so much more than I thought it would. “I did that.”
He’s quiet for so long. “I never understood before. When I first heard about it. I didn’t realize until just now what must’ve happened.”
“What?” I never knew I could blink so much.
“It never made sense to me,” he says, and each word kicks me in the gut. He looks up and looks more agonized than I ever want him to be. “When I heard about it. We all heard about it. The whole school—”
“It was an accident,” I choke out, failing not to fall apart. “He—h-he fell—and I was trying to help him—and I just—I didn’t—I thought—”
“I know.”
“What?” I gasp so loud I’ve swallowed the entire room in one breath.
“I believe you,” he says to me.
“What . . . why?” My eyes are blinking back tears, my hands unsteady, my heart filled with nervous hope.
He bites his bottom lip. Looks away. Walks to the wall. Opens and closes his mouth several times before the words rush out. “Because I knew you, Juliette—I—God—I just—” He covers his mouth with his hand, drops his fingers to his neck. Rubs his forehead, closes his eyes, presses his lips together. Pries them open. “That was the day I was going to talk to you.” A strange sort of smile. A strange sort of laugh. He runs a hand through his hair. Looks up at the ceiling. Turns his back to me. “I was finally going to talk to you. I was finally going to talk to you and I—” He shakes his head, hard, and attempts another painful laugh. “God, you don’t remember me.”
Hundreds of thousands of seconds pass and I can’t stop dying.
I want to laugh and cry and scream and run and I can’t choose which to do first.
I confess.
“Of course I remember you.” My voice is a strangled whisper. I squeeze my eyes shut. I remember you every day forever in every single broken moment of my life. “You were the only one who ever looked at me like a human being.”
He never talked to me. He never spoke a single word to me, but he was the only one who dared to sit close to my fence. He was the only one who stood up for me, the only person who fought for me, the only one who’d punch someone in the face for throwing a rock at my head. I didn’t even know how to say thank you.
He was the closest thing to a friend I ever had.
I open my eyes and he’s standing right in front of me. My heart is a field of lilies blooming under a pane of glass, pitter-pattering to life like a rush of raindrops. His jaw is as tight as his eyes as tight as his fists as tight as the strain in his arms.
“You’ve always known?” 3 whispered words and he’s broken my dam, unlocked my lips and stolen my heart all over again. I can hardly feel the tears streaming down my face.
“Adam.” I try to laugh and my lips trip on a stifled sob. “I’d recognize your eyes anywhere in the world.”
And that’s it.
This time there’s no self-control.
This time I’m in his arms and against the wall and I’m trembling everywhere and he’s so gentle, so careful, touching me like I’m made of porcelain and I want to shatter.
He’s running his hands down my body running his eyes across my face running laps with his heart and I’m running marathons with my mind.
Everything is on fire. My cheeks my hands the pit of my stomach and I’m drowning in waves of emotion and a storm of fresh rain and all I feel is the strength of his silhouette against mine and I never ever ever ever want to forget this moment. I want to stamp him into my skin and save him forever.
He takes my hands and presses my palms to his face and I know I never knew the beauty of feeling human before this. I know I’m still crying when my eyes flutter closed.
I whisper his name.
And he’s breathing harder than I am and suddenly his lips are on my neck and I’m gasping and dying and clutching at his arms and he’s touching me touching me touching me and I’m thunder and lightning and wondering when the hell I’ll be waking up.
Once, twice, a hundred times his lips taste the nape of my neck and I wonder if it’s possible to die of euphoria. He meets my eyes only to cup my face in his hands and I’m blushing through these walls from pleasure and pain and impossibility.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long.” His voice is husky, uneven, deep in my ear.
I’m frozen in anticipation in expectation and I’m so worried he’ll kiss me, so worried he won’t. I’m staring at his lips and I don’t realize how close we are until we’re pulled apart.
3 distinct electronic screeches reverberate around the room and Adam looks past me like he can’t understand where he is for a moment. He blinks. And runs toward an intercom to press the appropriate buttons. I notice he’s still breathing hard.