It’s time for my exam. Time to start the rest of my life.
I have cases to win, and a memory to make proud.
* * *
I walk backto my car at four on the dot with absolutely none of the relief I expected I’d feel – because working toward becoming a lawyer for almost a decade has to mean something, right? Finally sitting the bar exam andnotfreaking out about bad results must mean something – but alas, no relief.
Just another day.
Another night lies in wait for me.
Another day of existence.
I take my cell and open it up to Laine’s name. Not the group chat. The chat that dwindles as each day passes. When half of the group stop replying, it becomes a desolate wasteland between Kari and Britt.
Someday things will go back to normal. Someday, I’ll be able to laugh with them again. Talk about the butt plug. Joke about boys. And tease my friends.
But today isn’t the day I fix it. Today, I go direct to Laine and dial.
The phone rings, and rings, and rings. I give her time. She’s probably staring at the screen, wondering if she could be bothered.
I can relate. I’ve spent four months staring at my screen when someone calls, only to let it ring out. I prefer being alone. I prefer sleep. And a falsely cheerful phone call makes everything worse.
It’s exhausting pretending to be okay.
When I think she’ll just let the call ring out, she finally picks up and answers with a croaky voice. “Yeah?”
“Hey. I’m done, Baby.” I let my relief that she answered out on a gusty breath. “It’s all over.”
She sniffles, and for the first time in months, my heart feels something other than the constant bleed for Kane.
It’s called worry.
“Congrats, Jessie. I’m proud of you.”
“Wanna come to Paddy’s with me? Dolly will do up a couple milkshakes for us. She’ll spike them if we ask.”
“No.”
“No? No spiking?”
“No milkshakes. I don’t wanna come. I wanna sleep.”
“Laine…” And in an instant, that fleeting moment of freedom comes crashing down and my chest turns empty all over again. “I need you.”
“I’m not ready. You said you wouldn’t shame me.”
I nod. At no one. At the street. But I press a hand to my heart and breathe through the ache. “Okay. It’s alright. You sleep. I’ll be home later, okay?”
“You can sleep with me tonight if you wanna. We can spoon.”
My chest shudders on a pathetic sob. “Okay.”
“Jessie?”
“Yes, Baby?” I head toward my car before someone drives past and finds me crying in the street.
“Do you still believe in magic? Do you still sleep with books under your pillow?”