Shocked, he let go of me and took a step back. “You’re crazy.”

Then the voices began to chant his words over and over again.

You’re crazy, You’re psycho, You’re crazy, You’re psycho, You’re crazy, You’re psycho…

It repeated in my head, and it didn’t want to shut off. So I ran out of his house. I ran all the way home. I ran up the stairs into my room and climbed out the window onto the roof. Where I am now.

I wish Brooke were here and not away at college. I’m not sure if I’d tell her what’s going on with me, but at this moment, I need someone to talk to.

My thoughts are all I have and they’re the last things I want to keep me company. I’m a prisoner of my own mind, trapped with the unknown, angry voices.

chapter 8

Logan

The music and lyrics of my favorite band pounce through the speakers. I’m in a good mood for two reasons. One: I managed not to beat up my alarm clock this morning, so I woke up on time, which means I’ll be early for work. Two: Tonight is the first summer evening of our lake house party, and with every previous year being such a success, I have no doubt this year will be just the same, if not better. As always, the kick-off to the summer lasts an entire weekend. After the first summer bash, we throw a party every Saturday for the rest of the summer.

Twenty minutes away from the McDaniels’ home, I slowly brake as I approach an intersection. What the hell? Is that a girl sitting on the corner…in pajamas? This isn’t abnormal to me. Living in Philadelphia, I think I’ve seen it all. But here, in this neighborhood, it just strikes me as odd. I shrug it off, release my foot from the brake, and drive on. As I pass the intersection, my curiosity gets the best of me. Turning my head, I look out the window and have a much better view of the girl. It’s not just any girl—it’s Jenna. What is she doing out here this early in the morning?

She’s been crying. Again. I can tell by the black tearstains down her cheeks. For the second time in less than a week, I’ve found this girl in tears. She didn’t see me; she’s too busy staring blankly across the street. What should I do? Should I just keep going and act as if I didn’t see her? Or should I pull over, check up on her, and see if she’s okay or needs a lift?

I can’t keep going. It’ll fuck with my head all day.

I pull over by the curb. Placing the car in park, I adjust the rearview mirror and watch her for a bit. Maybe she’s waiting for someone. She doesn’t move; she just continues to lean against the street sign and stare straight ahead. I look out the driver side to see what’s so interesting. It’s just a house. Another look in the rearview shows me she’s still there, unmoving. I’m a half hour early. Maybe I can see if she needs a lift. Before exiting the car, I reach into the glove compartment and remove a few napkins left over from some fast food drive-thru trips. I step out of the truck and slowly walk over to her.

Jenna doesn’t move when I step up beside her. She’s lost in her own head, not even realizing I’m here. I sit down beside her, a foot away. I don’t want to scare her, so I don’t say anything. Instead I just watch her. It’s as if she’s hypnotized. She doesn’t move or speak or blink. If it weren’t for the up and down, even chest movements, I would think she wasn’t breathing. There’s that and the tears roaming freely down her cheeks. Yeah, she’s definitely alive. Did some guy break her heart? Was it that Matthew guy? What could cause her to be this sad? Within a heartbeat I reach out, placing the napkin in her view. Her features quickly change from vacant to confused. She snaps out of her trance, tossing her head back and away from the napkin. Her eyes follow my hand, up my arm, and then land on my face. I give her a slight grin and a one-shoulder shrug to say, “Hey,” but her features turn angry.

“What are you doing here?” she snaps.

Maybe I caught her off guard. “I saw you sitting here when I was driving by. I thought maybe—”

“You thought maybe I’m crazy, right? Is that what it is?” she asks as she shuffles to her feet.

Confused, I shake my head and look up at her. “No, I thought maybe you needed a lift or…” Fuck. Should I have kept on driving?

Jenna fidgets and digs a hand into her hair. “You look at me and you see that, right?” She points across the street at the house she’s been staring at for God knows how long. I look back at her. What should I do or say? Is she having a girl breakdown right now? How do people handle shit like this?

I stand but keep my distance. I don’t want to set her off. Maybe she just needs to get some stuff off her chest. I remain quiet, silently giving her permission to go on. She turns away from me, faces the home, reaches her hands out, and points at each item she describes. “It’s flawless on the outside. Every brick neatly stacked, every corner properly secured. Every shutter handpicked. Every rose planted in its rightful place. It’s fucking perfect. But what happens when the walls can no longer hold up, when they can no longer contain all the demons inside? Do they just explode from the pressure, finally setting free everything that’s been imprisoned inside?”

She turns to face me. Her brows draw closer and her face tightens as she shrugs her shoulders. “Or do they crumble into dust, taking all of the secrets, all of the monsters hidden within, everything—including the truth—down with them?”

Wow. Before me stands a girl who seems to be dealing with more issues than just a broken heart. I give it my best shot. “Jenna, I think you have to decide whether to let it break free or bury it. If you want it to break free, you just have to let go and allow it to. What’s the worst that can happen?”

She shakes her head. “No. Not when you’re not normal.”

“No one’s normal.” I raise my arms and gesture at myself while holding her gaze. “Take me for instance. I’m far from normal.”

She carefully scans her eyes over me as one hand fidgets at the edge of her camisole. Her other hand combs through her hair as she asks, “Oh. How so?”

Shit. I toss my hand in the air, blurting out, “I take people for granted all the time. I’m a loose cannon. I take advantage of girls, who I’m sure don’t deserve it. But I’m a dick, so I don’t give a shit half the time.” I walk in closer to her, and she doesn’t move, which is a good thing. “I’ve been walking around trying to figure out what the hell I want to do with my life, but instead of actually doing something, I stand around and sulk about it.” I have no fucking clue why I’m telling her all of this, but I keep going. “Ever since my brother, Sean, passed away a couple years ago, I’ve been at a standstill, just waiting for something to happen.”

“Like what?” she asks in soft voice, and I notice that her eyes have softened dramatically.

“Life. I’m waiting for my life to happen, but I’m not actually doing anything about it.” Whoa. I didn’t even realize I felt this way. I mean, sure, it’s been stuck in my head, but I’ve never said it out loud. I don’t know what to make out of this.

“Oh.” She breathes out, looking down at the ground. Her arms rest languidly at her side as she stands there quietly.

“The point is, Jenna, no one is normal or perfect like that house you see across the street. Everyone suffers from their own struggles, whether they’re big or small. There’s no such thing as having a flawless life.”

With her head bowed, she whispers, “Not according to my mother.”

I suck my teeth. “Well, no offense to you or your mother, but she obviously doesn’t know shit.”

A soft chuckle escapes her. She’s actually laughing. It’s a soft laugh, but it’s a laugh nonetheless. Jenna looks up at me, and her moist cheeks slightly lift as a small smile spreads across her delicate features. “You should do that more often,” I say.

Baffled, she asks, “What?”

“Smile. It looks good on you.” And just like that it disappears. Her eyes tear away from mine to look anywhere else but at me. It’s like smiling is frowned upon or illegal or some shit. I shift uncomfortably. “Want a lift home?”

She shakes her head. “No. I don’t want to go home.”

I look around. It’s just the two of us out here, but I don’t want anyone seeing her like this. “Would you like me to drive you anywhere? I don’t mind.”

“No. Well…” she hesitates. “Do you think I can use your phone to call Charlie? I mean if you have one, of course.”

“Yeah, of course.” I dig into my jean pocket and remove my cell, reaching out to hand it to her. She grabs it and turns her back to me. Seconds later, she has my phone against her ear and she’s talking to her friend. I wait patiently as Jenna tells Charlie where she’s located, and then she ends the call.

Jenna turns back around and hands over my cell. “Thank you. She’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

I take a look at the time. I have ten minutes before my shift starts. There goes being early. “I’ll wait with you.”

“Oh no, it’s fine. Please, I’ll be okay.”

I’ll be damned if I’m going to leave a girl by the corner alone. I mean I can be a dick sometimes, sure, but my mother taught me some manners, dammit. I walk to the corner and sit on the curb. “Nah. Like I said, I’ll wait with you.”

“Okay.” She takes a seat beside me. I hand her the napkins in my hand again. This time she takes them.

“Thanks.” She wipes her cheeks.

“No problem,” I say. And then it’s quiet, too quiet. I clap my hands together and rest my elbows on my knees. “So what were you doing out here?”

“I went for a run.”