The Art of Kissing by Jessica Sorensen

Jax

I feellike I’m about to crawl out of my skin as I sit on the sofa in our living room, bouncing my knee up and down. My mind is racing, like it’s a damn idiot trying to spring through a marathon, but I can’t get the idea out of my head. The idea that Raven is her.

Willow.

Willow.

Willow.

The girl I let die.

Right?

I don’t fucking know anymore and that—the not knowing—makes me feel like I’m about to burst out of my flesh.

“Jax, you need to chill out,” Hunter says. He’s sitting in the chair across from me, eyeing my bouncing knee.

“I’m trying,” I mutter, willing myself to stop the bouncing. “I just … I feel uneasy.”

He presses his lips together, as if he’s deliberating what to say. “I know. We all feel that way. But if you get too worked up …” He wavers, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, stopping himself from saying what he really wants to say.

I can fill in the gaps, knowing where his head’s at, because he knows where my head’s at.

“I’m not going to break down,” I assure him. Although, deep inside my mind, behind the glass that keeps that part of me in control, I can feel a whisper getting through, as if the glass has started to crack.

“You sure about that?” he questions, eyeing my knee again, which I have unknowingly started bouncing again.

I stop. “Yeah.” I don’t sound confident, and he can hear it. I don’t want to talk about my fucking issues right now, though. Can’t.

Besides, I don’t know why he’s zeroing in on me. We all have our problems. Mine have just been the most focused on because of that one fucking incident.

Blood is gushing out of the wound, pouring like a goddamn prisoner that’s been unleashed.

It’s all over the place.

Staining the bathroom floor with the truth that’s living inside me.

That’s been feeding on me, like a thirsty pain monster.

Watch me bleed.

Watch my pain.

It won’t fucking stop.

Part of me doesn’t want it to.

“Jax,” Hunter says carefully, his voice tearing me from the memory of the day I nearly bled to death. I was trying to bleed the pain of my past out of me. What I realized that day, though, as I lay on the floor, struggling to breathe, was that the only way to be painless was to be lifeless.

Pain equals life.

Death equals stillness.

Sometimes, I don’t know which one is worse.

“Please don’t start with me,” I tell Hunter. I can see all over his face that he’s about to try to shatter through that cracked glass wall. “I can’t handle it right now.”

His expression softens. “I’m not trying to push you. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

I shrug. “I’m fine. She’s okay, right? So, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Who’s okay?” His tone carries speculation.

Who is she?

Raven?

Willow?

“You tell me,” I say, my damn knee bouncing again. This time, I just let it be. I have to. I have to let the restless out somehow.

Hunter swallows hard and lifts his hand to his face, resting it against his lips, probably trying to discreetly keep hidden whatever expression he has on his face.

I don’t say anything else. Like me, Hunter has his own issues of dealing with the things that eat away at him, and I don’t want to push him to break his own glass wall.

Zay walks into the room, then. He looks like he doesn’t give a shit about anything, as if he doesn’t have a care in this miserable world. It’s all an act, though he will tell you differently. But Zay is probably one of the biggest liars there is, even lying to himself most days.

He takes one look at Hunter and me and pauses, assessing us closely, then frowns. “You two need to get your shit together,” he states, making his way farther into the room.

“We’re not even doing anything,” I mutter, raking my fingers through my hair.

He cocks an eyebrow at me. “Don’t feed me that I’m okay bullshit. I was there the night it all happened, remember? I know what your face looks like right before you’re about to push yourself off that ledge.”

I smash my lips together, wanting to argue, but I can’t think of a good counterargument.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell him,” Hunter chimes in, propping his boot-clad foot onto his knee.

Zay shifts his gaze to Hunter. “Maybe I should be giving the same lecture to you.”

Hunter’s brows crease. “What the hell did I do?”

Zay just stares at him until Hunter rolls his eyes, shakes his head, and mutters something incoherently under his breath. Then Zay shakes his head before dropping into the chair closest to the fireplace. “I don’t know why you guys are even acting like this. Raven’s fine.”

“Is she?” I mumble, picking at the black fingernail polish on my thumbnail.

“Why wouldn’t she be?” Zay asks in a bored tone.

“Um, because she nearly died,” Hunter says, giving Zay an incredulous look. “Plus, if she is her—”

“We don’t know it’s her,” he cuts Hunter off. “And I really wish you two would knock that shit off. You can’t just assume things. It’ll only lead to you two breaking the fuck apart when you realize you’re wrong.”

“If we’re wrong,” I mumble, staring at my fingernails. “And I don’t think we are.”

Zay heaves a sigh. “Whatever. I said we’d look into it, and we will. But, right now, we have about a hundred other problems to worry about, starting with what we’re going to do with her.”

I glance up at him. “I thought everyone agreed she’s going to stay with us?” Panic starts to take a hold of me again, those cracks inside my mind splintering.

I can’t let her go again.

Not if she’s her.

I can’t lose her again.

“Did we discuss?” Zay challenges with an arch of his brow. “Because I kind of felt like you two decided what you wanted and pushed me into it.”

“Oh, stop fucking pretending you have a problem with it.” Hunter gives him a dirty look. “We’ve known you forever, man, so this whole I-don’t-give-a-shit-about-anything act doesn’t work on us.”

Zay’s lips twitch in annoyance. “Why would I give a shit about some girl I barely know?”

Hunter leans forward, resting his arms on his knee. “And what if it is her? What if Raven is Willow?”

Tension chokes the air. I can see Zay’s about to burst, which usually results in him breaking or punching something. Anger is his issue, his way of coping with things. Thankfully, Raven walks into the room at that moment and interrupts Zay’s potential meltdown.

At least, I think it’s a thing to be thankful for until she says, “Who’s Willow?”