16.

I PICKED AT THE FRIES, taking one between my fingers and glaring at it beneath the dim diner lights.

I didn't feel hungry. Not really. If anything, I still felt nauseous after everything that had happened today.

I could still hear my mother's voice in my head, still see her eyes with that sadness in them that lingered every time her gaze swept past me. The sadness that had appeared a year ago and hadn't left since.

My chest pinched with guilt, my stomach twisting and turning. It was my fault. I knew everyone around me was just waiting – waiting for me to go back to normal, back to how I used to be. But every day that passed, it only felt more difficult.

I tried. I went out for brunch with Piper, like we used to. Except, the table felt emptier with Amber gone, and the conversation was forced. There were certain topics we avoided these days, certain jokes that couldn't be made.

I went to school and tried to chat with the students around me – people I'd known since elementary school. But their smiles were strained, and they seemed to shift when I was around, like they were scared of saying the wrong things.

I sighed, turning the fry over in my fingers, watching as the salt and oil glistened beneath the light.

And no matter how hard I tried to distract myself, I couldn't shake the dull feeling inside, remembering today's date. Remembering it was the one-year anniversary.

Jace sat across from me in the booth, sipping on a large strawberry milkshake.

I'd been to this diner a few times before, but it wasn't very popular. The neon sign on the window flickered and the tiles were chipped at the corners, but the food was good. Elvis songs played quietly from the speakers because they didn't have a jukebox, and by the third time Burning Love came on, I wished they did.

Jace reached forward, grabbing a fry from the bowl and right when I thought he'd toss it into his mouth, he swooped it downwards, dipping it fry-first into his milkshake.

My eyes widened, the fry in my hand dropping onto the table as he lifted his dripping French fry from the glass and ate it.

"I'm friends with a monster."

He paused mid-chew, meeting my eye, and furrowing his brow.

I gestured vaguely towards him. "That was disgusting."

"What? My milkshake?" he asked innocently, though I caught the way the corner of his lips twitched up.

"You just dipped a fry into your milkshake," I said.

"So?"

"You dipped a fried, salted piece of potato into a strawberry milkshake."

He lifted a brow. "Yep."

"And ate it," I said.

"I did," he confirmed.

We paused, staring at each other unblinkingly. Then, he reached forward to grab another and dipped it straight into his milkshake. He lifted the chip, pink milk dripping from the end.

"Want to try?" he asked, grinning.

I wrinkled my nose, pulling away from the disgusting, soggy mess. "No way."

"It's good."

"It's strawberry and potato."

"And it's delicious," he said, leaning closer towards me. "Come on, Jasmine. Live a little."

I frowned. His grin grew wider, the fry in his hand thoroughly coated in pink milk. With a sigh, I squeezed my eyes shut, leaning forward to take the fry into my mouth.

Instantly, I wanted to gag.

"How is it?" Jace asked, practically bouncing in his seat.

I winced, sending him a close-lipped smile. "Great."

"That didn't sound very enthusiastic."

"It didn't taste very great," I said, scrunching my nose.

He blinked. Then, frowned and pulled his milkshake closer to himself with a pout. "You don't deserve my incredible invention."

"Please," I said, chuckling. "Keep it to yourself."

"I will."

"Good."

"Great."

He paused, narrowing his eyes at me in a glare as he slowly took the straw into his mouth, not losing eye contact, and sipped on his milkshake like a toddler. I snorted, my lips twitching traitorously, and his frown tilted into a smirk, pleased at my reaction.

I rolled my eyes, reaching over to grab a fry and scooping strawberry milkshake onto it before popping it into my mouth.

"Oh, so now you like it?" he asked, raising a brow.

I shrugged, swallowing the mushy concoction. "What can I say? The artificial strawberry flavour really compliments the greasiness of the French fry."

"Personally, I think the artificial strawberry-ness really adds to the salt."

I smacked my lips thoughtfully, humming loudly. "You know, I can see that."

He laughed and I smiled, wiping my fingers off on a napkin before leaning my elbow onto the table, resting my chin onto the palm of my hand. He watched me for a moment, popping another handful of fries into his mouth before asking, "You're not eating anymore?"

I shook my head, a wave of nausea rushing over me. "No thanks. Not hungry."

He furrowed his brows at me, glancing at the bowl of French fries. "You've had like two fries."

"I just..." I sighed. His careful eyes were still trained on me. There was no point lying to him. "I feel nauseous. My mom..."

I didn't have to finish my sentence. I didn't want to. I was mortified. Just remembering the way my mother swiped at me from the car seat, the way she'd yelled in front of Piper and Jace.

Show me your wrists.

"I know," Jace said eventually. His fingers reached forward, as if to take my hand into his, before falling to the table. They tapped against the painted wood anxiously. "Parents can be suffocating, huh?"

"Don't get me started," I said, rolling my eyes. He smiled at me and I scoffed, laughing bitterly at myself. "God, we sound like such typical teenagers."

"Don't we?" he chuckled, shaking his head. "It's not our fault our parents are such typical parents."

"It's not like I don't love them," I sighed. I picked at my cuticles, my mind wandering to my mother, to her in the parking lot telling me how much she worried over me. Begging me to show her my wrists. "Sometimes I just feel like I can't breathe around her. Like if I make one tiny mistake, if I breathe wrong or walk wrong, it'll all be over."

I released a breath, shifting in my seat to lean forward, the words suddenly bubbling out of me.

"It's like, all day, right?" I began. "I'm playing a role at school, you know? I mean, everyone does, just to different extents. Like, some people pretend to be a little happier. Some people act different around their friends. Some try to impress their crushes. For me, I go to class. I do my work. I smile and nod, so no one gets worried.

"But then I get home, and the role doesn't end. Some people can just – I don't know. Drop the act, or go to their room and be themselves for a bit. But me? I can't. If I'm in bed too long, my mom will worry. If I eat too much, she worries. Too little, she worries. I listen to music, she worries. I don't go out, she worries. I just – I have to play this perfect role constantly and I'm –"

The words choked in my throat and I turned away from Jace. I frowned, running a hand over my face.

What was I going to say?

I was tired. So tired. Tired of playing pretend. Tired of trying to be the perfect daughter, to stop my parents from worrying.

I was sick of analysing my every move to try and see it from their perspective – What would seem normal to them? What did I used to do? How did I used to react to their words?

How did everyone else do it so easily?

It felt like every joke was forced, every laugh was fake. Every smile had to be the perfect combination of teeth flashing and eyes crinkling. Everything I said had to be perfectly delivered – one small mishap of tone would get the microscope trained even tighter on me.

I knew I was lucky. Lucky to be alive. Lucky to have parents who cared about me and kept me fed. But it was exhausting.

I was getting too tired.

I scratched at my wrist, tugging on my sleeve. Amber should've been the one to survive. Not me.

One year and I was still a burden on everyone around me. It was surprising that Piper was still friends with me.

"My mom picks me up from physio every week to keep tabs on me," Jace said suddenly. I blinked, meeting his eye and he shrugged, turning away. "She says it's because I can't drive anymore, but I know she secretly just wants to keep an eye on me."

I furrowed my brow, processing his words. "Why does she want to keep an eye on you?"

He shrugged, keeping his eyes trained on his milkshake, his fingers twirling the straw around the glass. "I had... problems, at my old school. I get it, she doesn't want it to happen again. I just wish I could breathe a little, you know? I wish she could trust me."

I hesitated. "What kind of problems?"

He stilled, his shoulders growing tense and eyes turning distant. He released the straw, his hands moving carefully to his lap. He stared at the table, so still I wasn't sure if he was still breathing.

"Problems," he said, his voice barely a breath. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed and he shook his head, so slightly that I almost didn't notice. "Just some stupid problems. You know, high school. But I'm here now."

"Is that why you moved to West Mormet?"

He met my eye and paused. "I guess you could say that."

A silence fell over us. Burning Love played for the fourth time. My ankle throbbed painfully. I wondered vaguely if Jace's leg was aching too.

A lot had happened since Jace had moved to West Mormet. When I'd first seen him, stumbling about on those crutches of his, I never thought we'd become friends.

Friends.

It was still weird. I hadn't made any new friends since – since a year ago. Since Amber left me. Maybe because I knew everyone, and they knew me.

Past tense. Because they knew me from before the accident. And now, I knew they were comparing me to her. I knew people missed her.

But now I spoke to Jace almost every day. I met him after school at the physio centre. Granted, we both had to be there, but it was still fun. I enjoyed talking to him. We even walked to and from school together.

I blinked.

We walked to school together.

"Jace," I started slowly. "Where did you say your place was again?"

"The other direction from the school," he replied. "Why?"

"If your house is in the other direction, how do you pass me on the way to school?"

He paused. Blinked. Furrowed his brow. Then said, "Oh. Maybe it isn't the other way from school."

"Jace, do you have any idea where your house is?" I asked, laughing in disbelief.

He shrugged. "West Mormet is surprisingly big, okay?"

"Our population is a few thousand!"

"Geographically, I mean."

"You have zero sense of direction."

"Now that I think about it," he started, narrowing his eyes. "I lived in California for eighteen years and could never drive myself home without a GPS."

"Oh, my God, Jace. That is not normal."

"We all have different talents," he pouted.

I laughed, grabbing a fry, and tossing it at him. His hand whipped up, catching it before it hit his face. "Rude."

I ignored him, shooting him a teasing smile. "How exactly are you planning on getting home?"

He hummed, throwing the French fry into his mouth. He chewed it slowly, smirking at me. "Maybe I wasn't planning on going home."

I rolled my eyes, though couldn't help the warmth that blossomed over my face. "You're impossible."

"Impossible," he agreed, grabbing a fry, and waving it at me, "but I bought you fries. That's got to count for something, right?"

"Right," I said quickly, reaching for my backpack which sat in the booth beside me. "I need to pay you back for that."

"No!" he interrupted. I paused, my hand still on the zipper. "No, don't worry about it."

"I'd feel terrible. Let me pay, Jace. At least half?"

"No way," he said, clicking his tongue at me. "Seriously, Jasmine. The guys always got to pay for the first date, right?"

My eyes widened, my face turning hot. "Is this a date?"

"I mean..." he shrugged, his eyes steady on mine but his ears turning pink. "If you want it to be."

I hadn't been on a date since Amber died. No one wanted to date the limping girl with matted hair and a dead best friend. Not when the entire town knew about you and your trauma. Not when half the town thought depression was a state of mind, easily cured by "just being happy".

"Sorry, I – was that too forward?" he asked, his jaw tightening.

I shook my head, my eyes moving to my fingers which picked at the loose threads of my sweater. "No. No, I... I want it to be." I paused. "A date, I mean."

"Oh," Jace said. I glanced at him in the corner of my eye to see his lips pulling into a stifled grin. "Okay, cool."

I found myself reflecting his smile, heat spreading down my neck and across my chest. "Cool."

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AUTHOR'S NOTE

Not Jace taking Jasmine on a date after the worst day ever lmaoo next time: a rumour spreads about Jace. Any predictions? Let me know what you thought of this chapter too!

Thank you so much for 15k reads! 💕 Sorry I've been a little MIA lately, uni is seriously killing me hahaha hopefully things calm down soon so I can do more writing. See you next time!