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304 pages, Hardcover
First published January 8, 2013
He kisses my temple again, only this time he leaves his mouth there. "Hannah," he whispers. Just that. Nothing else.
And suddenly I understand why he keeps touching my cheek.
It's never occurred to me that maybe the raw, stinging place wasn't what he wanted after all. That scrubbing my face in the snow was just about the scrubbing not about the consequences.
"It didn't leave a mark," I say, remembering how the spot was red and raw for weeks. "The snow. It scraped my face, but I healed just fine."
Finny only holds on tighter. I wonder if it bothers him that even though I'm telling the truth, I'm still lying. It did leave a mark, just not the kind that shows.
"I was so mean to you when we were little," I say, pressing my forehead against his shoulder. "I wish I wasn't, though."
"You weren't the only one."
"It doesn't make a difference. I should have been nice."
"I pushed you down," he says, like he's offering me a trade, some kind of forgiveness.
"I think I might have deserved it."
"You didn't," he says. "I thought you did, but you didn't. No one does."