Chapter Seventeen

I close my eyes and continue to hold her while she quietly cries against my chest. I hold her until dusk turns into dark and what was left of the light is engulfed by a blanket of stars.

I hold her until I hear a car about to turn on the street. I glance up, but they turn and go in the opposite direction. She remains pressed against my shirt, but the thought of Mike or even Lewis seeing me with her right now is at the forefront of my mind.

I shouldn't be here comforting her. It can only cause more problems for her.

Because she's right. I can't save her. As much as I want to, we're both stuck. I can't risk ruining something that is so much bigger than just the two of us. I can't sacrifice what it is I'm here to do for the sake of helping her leave. That's something she'll have to do on her own and when she's financially able.

And every moment I hold her, every time I grab her hand, every time I sit next to her in class, every time I put her in more and more of these harmless situations—I'm pushing her closer and closer to the edge of a cliff. If I don't figure out how to back away from her...I'll end up watching her fall.

I release my hold from around her and pull back, but she remains clutched to my shirt. I grab her hands and pull them away from me. She lifts her head and looks up at me, her eyes as red and swollen as I suddenly wish her lips were.

Stop thinking like this, Malik.

I stand up and she grabs at my shirt to pull me back, confusion rampant in her eyes.

"Let go," I whisper.

Her hands fall to her lap and she breaks our stare. She pulls her feet up onto the bench and hugs her knees, crying into her arms. Walking away from her is about to take all the strength I have.

"You're right, Najwa," I say as I back away from her. "I can't save you."

I turn around and begin walking back to my car, each step harder than the last. I don't turn around when I open the door. I climb inside the car and drive to her house without once looking back.

***

When I walk through the front door, I can tell by the state of the living room and the noise from the backyard that this is going to be a long night.

I make my way through the house and to the backyard. There are several people scattered around. No one even looks up when I walk outside. There are four girls in the pool putting on a spectacle. Two of them have the other two perched up on their shoulders and they're trying to knock each other off into the water. Jon and Lewis are standing beside the pool, beers in hand, cheering for whomever they've bet on.

Mike is sitting at the side of the pool with his feet dangling in the water. He isn't staring at the girls. He's staring straight at me—eyes hard and suspicious. I nod in his direction, acting oblivious to the look in his eye.

Lewis sees me and says, "Zain!" He rushes around the pool, unsteady on his feet. He's laughing the whole time, spilling half his beer. When he reaches me, he wraps his arm around me and leans in.

"Don't worry, I'm not as fucked up as I look," he says. "Did you get anything out of Najwa?"

I pull back and eye him. "How did you know I was with Najwa?"

He chuckles. "I didn't. But good job," he says, squeezing my shoulder. "You work fast. I think she knows more than we think she does."

I shake my head. "I don't think she knows shit," I tell him. "Focusing on her will be a waste of our time."

I glance over Lewis's shoulder and see Mike staring at us. He pulls his feet out of the water and stands up.

"He's coming over here," I say.

Lewis raises an eyebrow and then backs away, raising his beer in the air. He grins and spins around. "A hundred bucks says I can stay under water longer than any of you fucks!"

Jon immediately takes him up on the bet. They throw their beers aside and dive into the pool.

Mike walks toward me and then straight past me as he makes his way into the house, never once making eye contact with me.

I don't know what unnerves me more. The fact that I'm suspicious of every move he makes or the fact that he seems suspicious of me.

***

POV Najwa

It took me half an hour after Zain walked away to finally regain my composure enough to pack my things and walk back home. It's been ten minutes since I reached the edge of my dark driveway. I've been staring at the pavement, following the winding path with my eyes. It would be so easy to keep walking. There's nothing in that house I want. Nothing I even need. I could keep walking along the pavement until I'm too far to turn back.

I wish it were as easy as it sounds, but once again...it's not just about me. And no one but me is going to be able to change any of this.

Zain can't save me. Mike sure as hell isn't going to save me. I just need to continue saving my money until I have enough to make it on my own and bring my brother with me.

I take a step onto the grass, toward the house, but I hesitate. It's the last place I want to be right now. I want to be back at the park, back on the bench, back in Zain's arms. I want that feeling again, but I'm ashamed to admit I want more than that, too. I want to know what it feels like to be kissed by someone who respects me.

Just having that thought makes me feel incredibly guilty. To my knowledge, Mike is faithful to me. He provides for me. He takes care of my brother financially...a responsibility that isn't even his. He does this because he loves me and he knows I want to see my brother happy. I can't discredit that. It's more than anyone has ever done for me in my entire life.

I throw my backpack of completed homework in Mike's car and walk through the front door. I just keep walking until I get to the kitchen. I'll do like I do every night and take something to eat and drink up to my room. I'll stay there alone and try to sleep amidst the sound of music and laughter and sometimes the occasional muffled screams. I'll fall asleep and hope that Mike gives me at least four good hours before he wakes me up again.

I set the timer on the microwave and fill my cup with ice. I shut the freezer and go to open the refrigerator door when the familiar handwriting on the dry-erase board catches my eye. My breath hitches when I read it.

Worries flow from her lips like the random words that flow from her fingertips. I reach out and try to catch them, clenching them in my fists, wanting nothing more than to catch them all.

I look at his words, written clearly out in the open for anyone to see, but I know they're meant only for me. It's obvious he played the game wrong. He actually thought about what he was going to say before he wrote it this time. Cheater.

I erase the words, but not before imprinting them on my mind. I pick up the marker and press it to the dry-erase board.