My brain hasn’t had a chance to catch up with my mouth. “Stop it! Both of you!” I scream. “If you want to go to war over your past, that’s your choice, but you won’t bring Hardin into it! He called you for a reason, Mother, and yet here you are throwing him under the bus out of anger. This is his place, not either of yours. Both of you can get the hell out!” My eyes burn, as if they’re begging me to shed the warm tears, but I refuse.
My mother and father both halt; they look at me, then at each other. “Sort your crap out or leave; we’ll be in the bedroom.” I wrap my fingers around Hardin’s, and I try to pull him behind me.
He hesitates for a moment before using his long legs to step in front of me and lead me down the hallway, still grasping my hand. His grip is tight, nearly unbearably so, but I stay quiet. I’m still in shock from my mother’s arrival and blowup; too much pressure on my hand is the least of my concerns.
I push the door closed behind me just in time to muffle the shouting voices of my parents down the hall. Suddenly I’m nine again, running through the backyard of my mother’s house to my haven, the small greenhouse. I could always hear the shouting, no matter how loud Noah attempted to be in order to mute the unpleasant noise.
“I wish you hadn’t called her.” I break from my memories and look up at Hardin. Landon is sitting at the desk, making a point not to stare at us.
“You needed her. You were in denial.” His voice is gravelly.
“She made things worse; she told him about what you did.”
“It made sense at the time to call her. I was trying to help you.”
The look in his eyes tells me he really thought it might work. “I know,” I say with a sigh. I wish he’d run the idea past me first, but I know he was doing what he thought was right.
“Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.” He shakes his head and plops down on the bed. Looking up at me with real anguish, he says, “We’ll always be reminded of that shit—you know that, don’t you?”
He’s shutting down; I can feel it just as surely as I can see it happening in front of me.
“No, that’s not true.” There’s at least some truth to my words in that once everyone we know finds out about the bet, it’ll become old news to them all. I shudder at the thought of Kimberly and Christian finding out, but everyone else around us now knows the humiliating truth.
“Yes, it is! You know it is!” Hardin raises his voice and paces across the floor. “It’s never going to go away, every time we fucking turn around, someone is throwing it in your face, reminding you of what a fuckup I am!” His fist collides with the top of the desk before I can stop him. The wood splinters, and Landon jumps to his feet.
“Don’t do this! Don’t let her get to you, please!” I grab a fistful of his black sweatshirt, stopping him from beginning another assault on the already broken wood. He jerks away, but I don’t let up. I grab both sleeves this time, and he turns around, fuming.
“Aren’t you tired of this shit? Aren’t you tired of the constant fight? If you would just let me go, your life would be much easier!” Hardin’s words come out clipped and loud, and each syllable cuts deep. He always does this; he always goes for self-destruction. I won’t allow it this time.
“Stop that! You know that I don’t want easy and loveless.” I gather his face between my hands and force him to look at me.
“Both of you, listen to me,” Landon interrupts. Hardin doesn’t look at him; he keeps his furious gaze on me. My best friend, Hardin’s stepbrother, walks across the room to stand only feet away from us.
“You guys can’t do this again. Hardin, you can’t let people get into your head like that; Tessa’s is the only opinion that matters. Let hers be the only voice in your head,” he tells us.
It’s as if the black rings around Hardin’s eyes visibly shrink as he takes in the words. “And Tess . . .” Landon sighs. “You don’t need to feel guilty and try to convince Hardin that you want to be with him; you staying around through everything should be proof enough.”
Landon has a point, but I’m not sure if Hardin will see it through his anger and pain.
“Tessa needs you to comfort her right now. Her parents are screaming at each other in there, so be here for her—don’t make this about you,” Landon tells his stepbrother. Something in his words seems to click in Hardin’s mind, and he nods, tilting his head down to press his forehead against mine, his harsh breathing slowing with each breath.
“I’m sorry . . .” he whispers.
“I’m going to go home now.” Landon looks away from us, seemingly uncomfortable with witnessing the intimacy between Hardin and me. “I’ll let my mom know you’ll be by.”
I move away from Hardin to wrap my arms around Landon’s neck. “Thank you for everything. I’m so glad you were here,” I say into his chest. His arms tightly hug me, and this time Hardin doesn’t pull me away. When I step out of the embrace, Landon leaves the room, and I look back at Hardin. He’s examining his bloody knuckles, a sight that was beginning to turn into a distant memory; now I’m seeing it again as the thick blood drips onto the floor.
“About what Landon said,” Hardin says, wiping his bloodied hand on the bottom of his sweatshirt. “When he said yours should be the only voice in my head. I want that.” When he looks up at me again, his expression is haunted. “I want that so fucking bad. I can’t seem to shake them . . . Steph, Zed, now your mum and dad.”