Faking It (Losing It, #2)

by Cora Carmack

Trees only grew up and out. There was no going back to the roots, to the way things had been.

“You’re kind of funny, Winston.” She took a sip of her coffee, and what was left of her lipstick left a red smudge on the rim of the cup. It drove me crazy. I said, “I’m more than kind of funny. You’ll see.” “And cocky.” She smiled up at me. “You’re a little hard to puzzle out, you know.” “I’m willing to spend as much time with you as you’d like while you try to figure me out.”

Crying was for moments of such drastic pain that you had to let it out, had to shed the dead skin on your soul so that you could breathe.

With his forehead pressed against mine, the sight of him filled up my vision. There was nothing else in that moment, but him. And he . . . he reminded me of music. Of the way singing made me feel. Like I was falling and flying, freedom and fear.

I hated thinking about the past. Every time I did, I felt heavy, like gravity had doubled and instead of just holding me to the Earth, it flattened me.

The devil made me do it. And by devil, I mean my uterus.

When I thought about Alex, it was pure, undiluted pain. It felt like my insides had been rearranged, like I still had internal trauma from the wreck. All these years later, just the image behind my closed eyes of her was enough to make me feel like I was bleeding out.

“Pain changes us. Mine made me want to be perfect, so that no one would ever want to leave me again.” I inhaled deeply. “Yours made you Golden. Mine just made me angry.” One of his hands found my jaw, and he lifted my head up enough to face him. “Your pain made you strong. It made you passionate and alive. It made us both who we are.” A laugh pushed its way past the pain that lived in my lungs, and escaped from my throat. “Golden Boy and Angry Girl.” “We should make a comic book about our adventures.” The laugh came easier then.

He smiled and said, “Truce?” I nodded. He threw the pillow he was holding, and it nailed me right in the face. “Now, a truce.” I rolled my eyes. “Stalker.” “Liar.” “Jerk.” “Loving girlfriend.” “You suck at insults.” “You cringed when I said loving, so it counts.” “Golden Boy.” “Angry Girl.”

I felt like I was standing on a precipice, seconds away from discovering a truth about myself that I didn’t particularly want to learn.

There was a beat. Another one of those moments when the winds shifted, time turned, and life started again in a new direction.

Funny how four years of friendship could be so completely devastated by one moment of more than friendship.

Bliss had been exactly what I thought I’d wanted. A friendship evolved into something more. Loving and kind. Sweet and safe. Max scared me shitless. And it was so much better.

If this was a mistake, it was the best one I’d ever made.

Life isn’t ever simple. Not until you’re dead.”

I hated the way fear could eat away at everything until even the constant things in life, like the earth beneath my feet and the sky over my head, seemed like figments of my imagination.

You couldn’t ruin me, because everything about you makes me better. You make me take chances and make bolder choices. You make me less concerned with being perfect and more concerned with being real. You make me want to be fearless.”

I breathed until the weight of the world seemed easier to manage. Maybe that was just because I wasn’t holding it alone.

I’ll take my chances against your fickle heart if it means it’s mine.”

I’d experienced a plethora of emotions in my life. I’d made it my career to explore and portray those emotions onstage. When I looked at her, the feeling in my chest eclipsed them all, and I knew that I loved her.