Always There

Chapter One Hundred and Five

I wrap my arms around her waist and smooth a gentle kiss against her hair. "Now that that's settled, let's talk. About whatever you want. Something to distract you."

Blossom considers this for a moment.

And then, she says, "Like what? I already told you; I'm a fucking loser. I have nothing interesting to talk about."

I frown. "I seriously have no clue what you're talking about. If you don't tell me, how am I supposed to help you?"

Her eyes flutter shut.

"I haven't gone on a date since we broke up," she confesses.

I snort. "Neither have I. Your point?"

She punches me in the arm, though not hard enough for it to hurt. "Yeah, but you could get a date if you wanted to. You have the option. You're Bryce Bradshaw. I probably couldn't get a date even if I tried. I'm a pathetic fucking loser who can't get over a breakup that happened ages ago. Understand now?"

I tip her chin up with one finger so that she's forced to look me in the eye. "What the hell are you talking about? Nothing you just said is true. At all."

She scoffs and pushes my hand away. "You can't know that. Notice how I didn't have a boyfriend before you moved back home?"

"That doesn't mean you couldn't have. So many people I know had a crush on you once, or are attracted to you in one way or another. Mateo, Jordan, Scarlett, Anders. And I'm sure there are more. Either way, being single certainly doesn't make you a 'fucking loser,' Blossom. Just because your friends are in relationships doesn't mean you need to be in one too. You just got out of a serious relationship not too long ago. It's understandable that you would want to take a break from boys. They're sort of gross, anyway."

The faintest of smiles tugs at her lips.

And then a second later she punches my arm again and sits up so that she's straddling my hips.

"Hey! What was that for?" I ask, rubbing my arm in fake-hurt.

My reaction to her assault earns me another one of those secret half-smiles.

"Because your stupid-smart brain is being logical and I hate it!" she exclaims with with no conviction in her voice at all.

I laugh and shift into a sitting position as well. She slumps against my chest and I watch her eyes flutter closed.

"Please never let me drink again," she mumbles into the material of my sweatshirt. "I don't care that I turn twenty next week. I hate alcohol. I hate what it does to my brain. Before you got here, I . . . I was thinking about self harm. Or throwing myself off the balcony. I haven't had thoughts like that in years. I was so scared of myself. I didn't trust my own brain. Alcohol fucking sucks."

I chuckle again and wrap my arms around her small body. I pull her flush to my chest and tuck her head under my chin. "Trust me, I know. That's why I stopped drinking. I didn't like what it did to my brain either."

Blossom is completely silent for several moments.

And then, she whispers, "Can I tell you a secret?"