The Hate Between Us, page 30
I smiled and ran my hands through his hair, pulling him closer to me. “Just move.”
He slid out and then back in, and pleasure washed over me. He was in so deep. I moaned, tilting my head back. He planted his lips on my neck and left a line of kisses right down to my collarbone. His hand traveled across my collarbone and chest, spreading heat over my skin, and the simultaneous sensations were too much. I rolled my head against the pillow as the pressure started building in me once more.
He increased his pace and fused my lips with his like it was his first and last time to kiss me. I met his tongue caress for caress, drowning more and more. I never could’ve imagined it would be like this. This intense. This all-consuming. No fantasy could ever come even close to this. To the connection between us that pulsed stronger than ever—that made me feel as though we were one. I never wanted this to end.
He lowered his lips to my neck and moved even faster, and I exploded with pleasure that knew no end. His whole body tensed, and he buried himself to the hilt, groaning as he came to an abrupt stop.
I closed my eyes and pulled him against my chest, holding him tight against me. I’d never felt more satiated or well spent. I felt like laughing, so I did just that, over and over again. I felt so happy. Happy and satisfied.
He pulled up to look at me, grinning. “Why are you laughing?”
“Because I feel so high.”
He chuckled and ran the back of his fingers across my cheeks. “That makes two of us.” Slowly, he pulled out of me. “Do you feel sore?” I shook my head. “Wait here.”
Once he cleaned up, he returned with a towel and gently wiped me down there. I flushed. I felt like that was so intimate, which was ridiculous, seeing what we’d just done, but I guessed it would take a while for me to get used to seeing this Jason. To being pampered by him.
“Do you want to watch a movie with me?” he asked once we were dressed again.
I didn’t need convincing. I would’ve accepted just about anything right now. “I’d love that.”
He turned off the light and brought his laptop to the bed, settling against the pillows with me snuggling against him. I tucked my head in the nook of his shoulder.
“Jason?”
“Hm?”
I supported myself on my elbow and ran my thumb over his piercing. “I’m curious. Why did you kiss me the way you did in the theater when Ms. Holloway left?” I put my finger across his lips. “And for the love of God, don’t say it was because of Nathan.”
He laughed. His hand caught mine, and he kissed the tip of my finger. “What do you think?”
“You couldn’t resist me after that word vomit I blurted after our first kiss.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Yeah, that’s what sealed the deal.” He ran the back of his finger down the length of my neck. “Our first kiss surprised the shit out of me. But the second . . . it felt too good, and it quickly got out of control. I didn’t want to admit to myself, but I wanted more.”
My stomach stirred with satisfaction. “So you liked me even then?”
His eyes were serious. “It turns out I liked you even before that. I just didn’t know it yet.”
Our lips met over the short distance, and his arm tightened around me. His mouth provided instant pleasure. It didn’t matter that he’d kissed the hell out of me just a bit ago, it didn’t matter that he’d already given me so much pleasure, I wanted much more.
“We should probably stop this and start watching the movie before I eat you again.”
My insides stirred, and I lay back down, grinning. I made myself comfier against him as the opening credits started. I didn’t miss how we fit perfectly, our bodies molding against each other.
I wasn’t sure at what point during the movie my eyes started closing on their own. I just knew that I felt warm, and safe, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt purely happy.
Cocooned by the certainty that Jason and I were going to be alright, I fell asleep.
The night was thick, silent, and filled with pain. My chest constricted with a heavy feeling. My eyes were unable to hold back hot tears. There was so much pain inside of me.
Deep.
Unrelenting.
Endless.
My feet dragged across the pavement, taking me places unknown. I didn’t know where I was. I didn’t know where I was going. It didn’t matter.
Did it ever matter?
I didn’t matter.
My life never mattered.
Memories of the last few months all came back to me, and I couldn’t defend myself against the onslaught of pain, doubts, and the feelings of worthlessness. For months I’d been wondering if there was a purpose to my life, if, for once, I could do exactly what I wanted. If I could ever feel accomplished, fully happy . . . not lonely.
I should’ve known. The answer had always been there. Glaring blatantly at me. But I’d always refused to see it.
I was a fucking nobody.
Worthless.
My feet stopped. The sidewalk under me stretched on into infinity. I didn’t have the strength to keep going. I didn’t have the strength to keep pushing on into infinity.
I reached my limit.
Tears blurred my vision and created distorted shadows around me that whispered, “You got what you deserve. You got what you deserve. You got what you deserve.”
I almost bowled over with pain. The stars above me barely twinkled. Their light was almost nonexistent in the darkness of this night.
Darkness was everywhere. Until—
Two flashes of light filled my vision. They were distant, but they were coming my way. They were coming my way fast. Too fast. I had to move.
A car horn blared through the night.
I was supposed to be afraid. I was supposed to move.
I didn’t move.
It would be so easy not to move. To just let it happen.
The horn blared again, much longer this time.
I didn’t move.
Pain pulsed stronger and stronger, cutting deep into me, so deep it branded me forever.
And I realized I’d already made the decision.
Only one moment was enough to end my life. To end all my misery.
So, I closed my eyes and stayed right where I was.
And as scorching pain ricocheted through me at the impact and darkness descended on me three seconds later, all I hoped for was for everything to be over.
And for my life . . .
For my life to become just a faint echo, drifting and long-lost in the endless flow of time.
I gasped, snapping my eyes open.
And then I broke apart.
“What’s going on, Katie? Talk to me,” Jason said into my hair, his arms tightly-wound around me.
I’d been crying for a long time, all my emotions pouring out as Jason rocked me in his embrace. He hadn’t said a word, waiting for me to let it all out, but my tears wouldn’t stop and he was getting more and more worried.
He cupped my face and made me look at him. “Katie. Please. You’re scaring the hell out of me.”
It hurt hearing him plead, meeting his concerned eyes. How could I tell him the truth? How could I tell him I’d finally remembered the moments leading up to the accident? That I . . . That I . . .
“I’m sorry, Jason. I’m so sorry,” I sobbed, clutching his shirt in my hands.
“What are you sorry for?”
“I—” Another sob racked my body. I couldn’t look him in the eyes. I couldn’t look him in the eyes and admit the truth. Why now? Why now of all times? “I just had a dream. No, not a dream. A nightmare.”
His hand moved up and down my back in a caress. “It’s just a nightmare, baby. It can’t hurt you.”
I shook my head. “No, you don’t understand. I’ve had this same nightmare since the accident. The nightmare of that accident. Over and over again. But it was always short, and it was always just the headlights of Caroline’s car right before she hit me. But this time—this time I finally remembered . . .”
He grew unusually still. His eyes narrowed. “Remembered what?”
“How it happened.”
He must’ve sensed he wasn’t going to like what I had to say because he released me and drew away to get a better look at me. And I felt afraid—afraid that I was going to lose him. That I was going to lose Jason after I’d just discovered how happy we could be.
But how could we be happy after this? There was no way he would forgive me for the accident now. No way.
“Katie, tell me. What did you remember?”
My stomach churned and churned.
“How much longer are you going to hide from the truth?”
This was that truth.
It was my fault.
Jason had been right—I’d had more than enough time to move, but I hadn’t. Not because I’d been too shocked to move but because I hadn’t wanted to. Because I’d wanted Caroline to kill me.
Guilt and pain converged together, sewing deep into me. I felt so selfish. So fucked up. I didn’t know how I would get those words out without feeling lower than low.
I settled my gaze on my hands as more tears poured out of me. “You were right. I had more than enough time to move, but I didn’t. And not because I was in shock.”
All residues of his previous concern were gone, replaced by the cold fury I’d known so well. “Why?” That one word was uttered so gutturally it cut something deep inside me.
My hands were shaking. I sniffled.
“Why?!”
I winced, forcing my eyes to meet his. “Because I wanted to die,” I whispered.
Time stopped. Or maybe that was just my heart, frozen in a moment where I didn’t have him looking at me in such a way, so full of anger and ice and hate. So much hate.
“You mean to tell me that my sister is in prison because you used her to kill yourself off?” His voice was dangerously low.
My heart clenched as I let out a sob, and I took a deep breath. “I know it sounds bad—”
“Sounds?”
I flinched. “No. It is bad. I—”
“Do you realize what would have happened to her if you had died? She would’ve been charged with vehicular manslaughter! Her whole life would’ve been messed up beyond repair. She would’ve been messed up beyond repair!”
I tried to draw away from him, each of his words like poison, but he wouldn’t let me, gripping my wrist to keep me in place. His eyes were beyond cold. He’d never looked at me with so much hate before, and I wanted to just go away somewhere and stay hidden forever.
“I’m so sorry, Jason. Believe me, I really am.”
His eyes turned into slits. “You’re sorry? You’re sorry? Do you know how fucked up that was? Using her to—” He bit into his fist, snapping his gaze away.
I felt cold. So cold. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m really sorry—”
“I don’t give a fuck about how sorry you are. Your sorrys won’t change a damn thing. And to think that I really started to believe you. That you were in shock and couldn’t move.” He snorted and released me with a shove. “I will never forgive you for this.” He pointed at the door. “Now get the fuck out of here.”
“Please, Jason. Please, just—”
“Get. The. Fuck. Out,” he let out through his teeth, his whole body shaking with rage. “Now!”
I wanted to bend over with pain. I wanted to beg him to just listen to me, to understand that I felt so sorry about Caroline, and if I could, I would’ve fixed everything, but I couldn’t. The wall between us was back and stronger than ever.
My heart breaking over and over again, I put on my jacket and rushed out of his room and apartment, unable to handle his hateful gaze any longer, feeling as if I was rushing out of his life, as well.
In the days leading up to Lake Gate High’s centennial, the school was buzzing with activity. It was impossible to pass through the hallways and not hear someone talking about the centennial celebration, play, and football and basketball games, and the buzz on social media was never-ending. Everyone was ready to party.
Me? I just wanted to lock myself up somewhere far away and cry my heart out. Not that I hadn’t cried my heart out already. Ever since I’d left Jason’s place, my days had been a mixture of crying, wallowing in self-pity, and blaming myself, and had started with a long conversation I’d had with my parents after Dad drove me home from Jason’s place. My mom had held me for a long time, telling me everything was going to be alright, but everything felt so confusing that I didn’t know what to think.
Every time I saw Jason at school, it was as if someone had taken a hammer of pain to my chest. He did his part in our final few rehearsals, even kissing me without a single hitch, but he never spoke a word to me when we weren’t acting. It hurt. It hurt feeling his hands and lips on me and finding a barrier beneath the appearance of a guy madly in love. But what hurt even more was seeing him exhausted more than ever, with constant dark circles under his vacant eyes, and a quiet mouth. It was as though someone had sucked all the happiness out of his world. Even Seth had commented how Jason wasn’t being himself and he couldn’t understand why Jason wouldn’t snap out of it.
I was torn between asking Jason for forgiveness or letting it go, but more than that, I didn’t know what to do about Caroline. The feeling of shame at what I’d done was a permanent resident inside me, and I wondered if that was why I’d felt guilt about Caroline in the first place. If, subconsciously, I’d always known it was my fault she’d hit me.
It was a hard pill to swallow that not only had I used Caroline, but I’d also done this to myself—I was paralyzed because of that one decision. I was going to be in a wheelchair forever because I hadn’t wanted to live anymore.
Was that the price for using an innocent girl? Was that the fate I deserved?
I’d told Dr. Peterson what I remembered, and he’d explained to me I hadn’t been in my right mind when I’d made that decision. He reminded me not to be so hard on myself, but it was all fucked up. Every time I closed my eyes, I remembered the pain and how I’d given up. How tired I’d felt. So, so tired. And it was sickening. It was terrifying.
If I hadn’t just stood there, I wouldn’t be paralyzed. I’d brought this on myself.
It was hard to process that.
Dylan and I had spent all of Sunday crying together in my room after I told her about it, and it was like a dam had broken and all our fears and worries poured out together.
“I’m so sorry that I hadn’t noticed it, Kat. So sorry,” she’d told me then, her eyes swollen.
“It’s okay, Dee. You didn’t know.”
“But why didn’t you tell me you felt that way?”
“I told you back then that I was depressed. I wasn’t satisfied with myself or my life, and I didn’t see how it could ever become better. How I could ever make something out of myself or stop feeling worthless.”
Her hand had tightened around mine. “Oh, Katie. You told me all of that, but you never told me that you were suicidal.”
That had given me pause. I hadn’t told her about being suicidal simply because I hadn’t had suicidal feelings before that day. I hadn’t felt that all-consuming pain that erased all the good memories from my life and left only the bad ones. I hadn’t felt the urge to just end everything.
Which had me thinking—what had happened that day? What had happened before the accident that had pushed me in that dark direction? I didn’t have that piece of the puzzle. And it scared me that something bad had obviously happened, but I couldn’t remember it.
After that day, Dylan took it upon herself to hang out with me at my house every day, and if it hadn’t been for her, I wouldn’t have remembered how excited I’d been for the night of the play and how much it meant to me. She reminded me I’d worked too hard to let this spoil everything, and at this point, I didn’t want to disappoint Ms. Holloway and Amy. But most of all, I didn’t want to disappoint myself.
So, I continued to practice and gave my all in rehearsals, even though it was killing me to see Jason make expressions of love and treat me as though I was his everything when it would never be directed toward me again. The memories of his kisses were torturous, but what really hurt was how happy and safe I’d felt in his arms.
“You should forget about him, Kat. You told that asshole you wanted to die, and he doesn’t even care about that. Screw him,” Dylan said between the episodes of The Office we watched together on Friday.
We’d had our final rehearsal earlier that day, the play being the next day, and everything had been perfect—everyone’s performances were outstanding, all technical aspects ran smoothly, and Ms. Holloway was satisfied with all of us. But each time I was waiting for my next scene, I felt like I could burst into tears. And to top it all off, sometimes, just for a few fleeting seconds, I’d let myself get immersed in those kisses, purposely forgetting they were just an illusion, fake.
“I know. But he has the right to be angry. It was my fault.”
She turned around and grabbed my hands. “You can’t say it like that. It’s not like you did it to hurt her. It wasn’t malicious.”
“That doesn’t make it any better. I did hurt her.”
“Your therapist told you that you weren’t in your right mind. Jason should understand that you weren’t okay. And if he really cared for you, he would be worried about you.”
“Maybe hearing I was suicidal put him off. It’s a lot to take in.”
“Then he never genuinely cared about you and you’re better off without him.” She gave my hands a reassuring squeeze. “How about now? Do you feel suicidal?”
I’d never told Dylan just how dark it had gotten in my head after the accident. If she’d known, it would’ve scared the hell out of her.
“I was for a long time after the accident.”
Her eyes quickly filled with pain, and her lips parted with a sharp intake of air.
“But before you freak out, I haven’t felt that way for some time. I was starting to get better recently. I remembered how much I love acting and how right it feels. Dr. Peterson told me focusing on my love of acting would help, and he was right. It did help. And being part of the cast and doing all that work to get to know my character and all . . . it’s exactly what I want to keep doing. I found my purpose.”
