This Girl

by Colleen Hoover

  been ripped from me and I wasn’t about to listen to reassurances from nurses or doctors or clergymen or even my grandparents. I didn’t want to hear it.

  My grandfather hesitantly took a few steps away from me, leaving me alone in the grass. Before heading back inside, he turned around one last time.

  “It’s just that Caulder has been asking for you. He’s scared. So when you’re ready . . .”

  I immediately snapped my head in his direction. “Caulder?” I said. “Caulder’s not . . .”

  My grandfather immediately shook his head. “No, son. No. Caulder’s fine.”

  It wasn’t until those words came out of his mouth that everything hit me all at once. My chest swelled and the heat rose to my face, then my eyes. I pulled my hands to my forehead and I rolled onto my knees, my elbows buried in the grass, and I completely lost it. Sounds came from deep within me that I didn’t even know I was capable of. I cried harder than I’ve ever cried before—harder than I’ve cried since. I sat on the lawn of that hospital and I cried tears of joy, because Caulder was okay.

  “Are you okay?” Julia asks, breaking me out of my trance.

  I nod, trying to push back the memories of that day. “I’m fine.”

  She readjusts her position on the couch and sighs. “I don’t want her to have to raise Kel,” she says. “Lake needs the chance to live her own life. I’d never burden her like that.”

  “Julia,” I say, speaking confidently from experience, “it would burden her not to have him.” Not having the choice to raise Kel would kill Lake. Just like it killed me when I thought I’d lost Caulder. It would absolutely devastate her.

  Julia doesn’t respond, indicating I may have crossed my boundaries with that comment. We both sit quietly on the couch for a while. I feel like neither of us has anything else to say, so I stand up.

  “I’ll take the boys somewhere this afternoon. I’ll make sure Layken wakes up before I go so you guys will have time to talk.”

  “Thank you,” she says, smiling a genuine smile at me. It feels good. I respect Julia’s opinion and having her disappointed in me feels almost as bad as when Lake is disappointed in me.

  I nod, then turn and leave. I make my way back inside the house and back into the bedroom where Lake is still sleeping. I ease onto the bed at her side and take a seat.

  “Lake,” I whisper, trying to wake her successfully this time.

  She doesn’t move, so I pull the covers off her head. She groans and pulls them back up.

  “Lake, wake up.”

  She kicks her legs, then throws the covers off. It’s well past lunchtime and she acts like she could sleep twelve more hours. She opens her eyes and squints, then finds me sitting next to her. She’s got mascara smeared underneath her eyes, some of which is still on my pillowcase. Her hair is in disarray. Her ponytail holder is on the sheet beside her. She looks like hell. A beautiful hell.

  “You really aren’t a morning person,” I say.

  She sits up on the bed. “Bathroom. Where’s your bathroom?”

  I point to the bathroom across the hall and watch as she leaps off the bed and darts for the door. She’s definitely awake now, but I can almost guarantee she needs coffee.

  I go to the kitchen and make us both a cup. When she comes out of the bathroom I take a seat and place her coffee next to me.

  “What time is it?”

  “One-thirty.”

  “Oh,” she says, shocked. “Well . . . your bed’s really comfortable.”

  I smile and nudge her shoulder. “Apparently.”

  We drink our coffee and she doesn’t say anything else. I have no idea where her head is at, so I remain silent, allowing her to think. When we finish our coffee, I put the cups in the sink and tell her I’m taking the boys to a matinee. “We’re leaving in a few minutes. I’ll probably take them to dinner afterward, so we’ll be back around six. Should give you and your mom time to talk.”

  She frowns at me. “What if I don’t want to talk? What if I want to go to a matinee?”

  I lean forward across the bar. “You don’t need to watch a movie. You need to talk to your mom. Let’s go.” I grab my keys and jacket and head toward the front door.

  She kicks back in her chair and folds her arms across her chest. “I just woke up. The caffeine hasn’t even kicked in yet. Can I stay here for a while?”

  She’s practically pouting, her bottom lip sticking out, pleading with me. I stare at her mouth a beat too long. I think she notices, because she pulls on her bottom lip with her teeth and her cheeks flush. I shake my head slightly, pulling my gaze away from her mouth.

  “Fine,” I say, snapping out of my trance. I walk over to her and kiss her on the forehead. “But not all day. You need to talk to her.” I walk away, fully aware of the fact that the forehead kiss was probably crossing the line. However, the fact that she slept in my bed last night has already muddied the waters. The line isn’t so black and white anymore. I’m pretty sure gray just became my new favorite color.

  •••

  IT’S BEEN OVER five hours since I left with the boys, so Lake and Julia probably have had a chance to sort everything out. I tell Kel to stay the night with me to give them more time to adjust. I unlock the front door and follow the boys into the living room. We all come to a halt, not expecting to find Lake on my living room floor. There are dozens of white index cards sprawled out in front of her.

  What the hell is she doing?

  “What are you doing?” Caulder says, verbalizing my exact thoughts.

  “Alphabetizing,” she replies without looking up.

  “Alphabetizing what?” I say.

  “Everything. First I did the movies, then I did the CDs. Caulder, I did the books in your room. I did a few of your games, but some of those started with numbers so I put the numbers first, then the titles.” I point to the piles in front of me. “These are recipes. I found them on top of the fridge. I’m alphabetizing them by category first; like beef, lamb, pork, poultry. Then behind the categories I’m alphabetizing them by—”

  “Guys, go to Kel’s. Let Julia know you’re back,” I say, without looking at them.

  The boys don’t move. They continue to stare at Lake. “Now!” I yell. They listen this time, opening the door and disappearing outside.

  I slowly walk to the couch and sit down. I’m afraid to say anything. Something is off. She seems so . . . chipper.

  “You’re the teacher,” she says. She looks at me and winks. “Should I put ‘Baked Potato Soup’ behind potato or soup?”

  What the hell? She’s in denial. Intense denial.

  “Stop,” I say. I’m not returning her smile. I don’t know what happened with her mom today, but whatever is going on with her needs to stop. She needs to confront this.

  “I can’t stop, silly. I’m halfway finished. If I stop now you won’t know where to find . . .” She picks up a random card off the floor. “Jerk Chicken?”

  I glance around the living room and notice the DVDs have all been arranged next to my television. I stand and slowly walk to the kitchen, eyeing the surroundings. Did she clean the damn baseboards? I knew I shouldn’t have left her today. Good God, I bet she cleaned the entire house and never even went to talk to her mother. I walk to my bedroom and my bed is made. Not only is it made; it’s perfect. I hesitate before opening my closet door, afraid of what I might find. My shoes have all been rearranged. My shirts have all been moved to the right side of the closet and my pants are on the left. The way they’re hung, their colors move from light to dark.

  She color-coded my closet? I’m afraid to complete the inspection. There’s no telling what all she did to this house. She probably left nothing untouched.

  Shit. I rush to the bed and open the nightstand. I pull the book out and open it, but the receipt for her chocolate milk doesn’t look like it’s been touched. I breathe a sigh of relief, glad she didn’t see it, then put the book back where it was. How embarrassing would that have been?


  I walk back into the living room, more aware of the spotless condition of my house than before. She’s been a little too busy, which can only mean one thing. She’s still avoiding her mother.

  “You color-coded my closet?” I say. I’m glaring at her from the hallway entrance. She shrugs and smiles, like this is any other day.

  “Will, it wasn’t that hard. You wear, like, three different color shirts.” When she giggles, it makes me wince. She has to stop this. Her denial isn’t good for her, and it certainly isn’t going to be good for Kel when Julia tells him. I walk swiftly across the room and bend down to snatch up the cards. We’re about to have a serious sit-down.

  “Will! Stop! That took me a long time!” She begins to grab the cards as I pick them up. I realize we aren’t getting anywhere, so I throw down the cards and try to pull her up off the floor. I need her to look me in the eyes and calm down.

  That doesn’t happen.

  She actually starts kicking at me. She’s literally kicking me. She’s acting like a damn child.

  “Let me go!” she yells. “I’m . . . not . . . done!”

  I let go of her hands as she asked, and she falls back to the floor. I walk to the kitchen and grab an empty pitcher from under the sink and fill it up with water. I know I’ll regret this, but she needs to snap out of it. I walk back to the living room and she doesn’t even acknowledge me. I extend my arm and flip the pitcher upside down on top of her head.

  “What the hell!” she screams. She throws her hands up in shock, then looks up at me with pure hatred. I realize once she lunges at me that perhaps this wasn’t the best idea. Not enough water, maybe?

  When she stands up and tries to hit me, I grab her arm and wrap it behind her back, then move behind her while I push her toward the bathroom. Once we’re inside, I wrap my arms around her and forcefully pick her up. There’s no other way to do it. She’s doing her best to attack me and she’s almost succeeding. I hold her against the wall of the shower with one arm and turn the water on with the other. As soon as the water splashes across her face, she gasps.

  “Jerk! Jackass! Asshole!”

  I adjust the faucet and look her in the eyes. “Take a shower, Layken! Take a damn shower!” I release my hold and back away from her. When I shut the bathroom door, I hold the doorknob in case she tries to get out. Sure enough, she tries.

  “Let me out, Will! Now!” She beats on the door and jiggles the knob.

  “Layken, I’m not letting you out of the bathroom until you take off your clothes, get in the shower, wash your hair, and calm down.”

  I continue to hold the doorknob until I hear the shower curtain close a minute later. When I’m confident she isn’t going to try to get out again, I put my shoes on and walk across the street to grab her some extra clothes.

  “Is she okay?” Julia asks as soon as she opens the door. She motions behind her to let me know Kel and Caulder can hear our conversation.

  “A little too okay,” I whisper. “She’s acting strange. Did you guys talk today?”

  Julia nods, but doesn’t elaborate. It’s obvious she doesn’t want to risk being overheard by Kel. “She’s in the shower. I came to get her a change of clothes,” I say, skirting the subject.

  Julia nods and steps aside, then walks toward the kitchen. “You can grab some out of her bedroom. Last door on the right,” she says. “I’m in the middle of washing dishes.” She returns to the sink and I hesitate, a little uncomfortable at the thought of going into Lake’s bedroom.

  I walk down the hallway and slowly open her door. When I do, it’s not what I expect. I don’t know if I thought it would be a typical teenager’s bedroom, but I’m pleasantly surprised that there aren’t posters on the walls and black lights on the ceiling. It’s surprisingly mature for an eighteen-year-old. I walk to her dresser and pull the top drawer open, removing a tank top. When I open the next drawer to look for pants, I’m met with a drawer full of bras and panties. I feel somewhat guilty, knowing that she has no idea I’m in her room right now. I tell myself to just grab a pair and shut the drawer, but I begin scrolling through all of the contents, imaging what they would look like on her.

  Dammit, Will! I grab a pair on top and slam the drawer shut, then search until I find some pajama bottoms. When I shut the last drawer, the tank top falls out of my hands and lands on the floor. I bend over to pick it up and a barrette catches my eye. It looks like a child’s hair barrette. I pick it up and hold it between my fingers, curious why she would keep something so old.

  “She used to think it was magic,” Julia says from the doorway. I whip my head around, startled by her voice.

  “This?” I say, holding up the barrette.

  Julia nods, then walks into the bedroom and sits on the bed. “When she was a little girl her dad walked in right after she had cut a huge chunk of her bangs off. She was crying, scared I would be mad at her, so he brushed some hair over and snapped the clip in place. He told her it was magic and that as long as she kept that clip in her hair, I wouldn’t notice.”

  I laugh, trying to imagine Lake with a chunk of her bangs missing. “I guess you noticed?”

  Julia laughs. “Oh, it was so obvious. Horribly obvious. She cut a three-inch strip right out of the front of her hair. Her dad called to warn me and told me not to say anything. It was so hard. It took her hair months to grow back out and she looked ridiculous. But I couldn’t say anything because every single day she woke up, the first thing she did was put that clip in her hair so I wouldn’t know.”

  “Wow,” I say. “She was strong-willed even then, huh?”

  Julia smiles. “You have no idea. I’ve never met a person with a more indomitable will in my life.”

  I bend down and put the clip back where I found it, then turn back to Julia. She’s looking down at her hands, picking at her nails. She looks just like Lake right now, but somehow even sadder.

  “She hates me right now, Will. She doesn’t understand where I’m coming from. She wants Kel, but I don’t know if I can do that to her.”

  I don’t even know if it’s my place to be giving her advice, but she seems to be soliciting it. I just know I’ve been in Lake’s shoes, and nothing could have stopped me from taking Caulder from my grandparents’ house that night.

  I tuck Lake’s clothes underneath my arm and head to the door, then turn back toward Julia. “Maybe you should try to understand where she’s coming from. Kel is the only thing she’ll have left. The only thing. And right now, she feels like you’re trying to take that away from her, too.”

  Julia looks up at me. “I’m not trying to take him away from her. I just want her to be happy.”

  Happy?

  “Julia,” I say. “Her father just died. You’re about to die. She’s eighteen and she’s facing a lifetime without the two people she loves the most. Nothing you can do will make her happy. Her world is being ripped out from under her and she has absolutely no control over it. The least you could do is let her have a little bit of say-so over the only thing she’ll have left. Because I can tell you from experience . . . Caulder is the only thing that kept me going. Your taking Kel away from her because you think it’ll improve her situation? It’s the absolute worst thing you could do to either of them.”

  Fearing I’ve overstepped my bounds again, I walk out of the bedroom and make my way back across the street.

  •••

  I OPEN THE door to the bathroom and slip inside. I set the clothes and a towel down on the counter, then glance up to the mirror. It’s mostly fogged over, but clear enough that I can see the shower in the reflection. There’s a section a few inches wide where the wall should meet the shower curtain, but it’s pulled slightly back. Lake’s foot is propped up against the porcelain tub and she’s shaving her legs. She’s using my razor.

  And my shower.

  And her clothes are on the floor, next to my feet. Not on her. She’s three feet from me without her clothes on.

  It’s one of the worst days of
her life and I’m sitting here thinking about how she’s not wearing anything. Ass-hole.

  If I had any semblance of a decent conscious at all, I’d have never allowed her into my house last night to begin with. Now I’m watching the razor glide up her ankle, praying she’s too upset to go home for at least one more night.

  Just one more night. I’m not ready to let her go.

  I quietly back out of the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I head straight to the kitchen sink and splash water on my face.

  I grip the edge of the counter and take a deep breath, preparing my earth-shattering apology for when she comes storming out of the bathroom. She’s so pissed at me right now for yelling at her and throwing her into the shower. I don’t blame her. I’m sure there was an easier way I could have calmed her down.

  “I need a towel!” she yells from the bathroom. I walk to the edge of the hallway.

  “It’s on the sink. So are your clothes.” I go back to the living room and sit on the couch in a lame attempt to appear casual. Maybe if I don’t seem so pissed anymore, she’ll remain calm.

  God, I can’t stand the thought of her being mad at me for another day. The day she recited her poem in class was probably the hardest knock my heart has ever taken from a girl . . . and it happened in front of seventeen other students. I realize none of them knew I was her target, other than Gavin, but still. It felt like I’d taken over thirty bullets straight to the heart with each insult that came out of her mouth.

  The door to the bathroom begins to open and my attempt at casual goes out the window. I jump over the back of the couch, wanting nothing more than to hold her and apologize for everything I did tonight.

  When she sees me rushing toward her, her eyes grow big and she backs up to the wall. I wrap my arms around her and squeeze her tight. “I’m sorry, Lake. I’m so sorry I did that. You were just losing it,” I say in my best attempt to excuse my actions. Rather than try to hit me, she wraps her arms around my neck, causing my chest to tighten as I attempt to hold on to my willpower before it slips away from me again.

  “It’s okay,” she says softly. “I kinda sorta had a bad day.”

  I want nothing more than to stifle her words with my mouth right now. I want to tell her how much I need her. How much I love her. How, no matter how bad things get for her, I’ll be by her through every second of it.

  But I don’t. Because of Julia, I don’t. I reluctantly pull back and place my arms on her shoulders.

  “So we’re friends? You aren’t gonna try to punch me again?”