“And would you hold any other fifteen-year-old responsible for their ownandtheir brother’s safety under those circumstances?”
Of course I wouldn’t. But that didn’t mean I didn’t still blame myself. After a pause, I shook my head again.
“So then why do you hold yourself to standards you wouldn’t ask of anyone else?” he asked me.
I couldn’t look at him. I knew he was right, but… I still felt responsible for what had happened, both to me and to Noah. Because…
I didn’t know why.
I shrugged in response to Elliot’s question.
He pulled my face forward, pressing our foreheads together. “You see what I’m getting at?”
“Yeah,” I whispered softly.
He kissed my forehead. “Good. Can I make a request?”
I nodded.
“I love you very, very much, but can you give me a couple hours before you talk any more about the shitstorm that was your childhood? I need to process for a bit. Is that okay?”
I let out a tiny, strangled laugh in spite of myself. “Yeah.”
I actually managedto get a few fitful hours of sleep, although I wasn’t sure, when I woke up, if it was worth the horrific crick in my neck or cramps in my lower back. I must have made a sound that indicated my discomfort, because Elliot glanced over at me.
“You okay?”
I let out a groan.
“Do you want me to stop?”
I shifted, making another pained sound. Stretching out my legs and trying to move would help. Some. “Ye-yeah. Next rest stop is fine.”
We were still somewhere in Indiana, and I knew it could be five minutes or forty-five before we hit the next rest stop. “Are you sure?” Elliot asked me. “I can pull over on the side?—”
I shook my head. “No. It’s fine.”
He sighed. “Is it?”
“It sucks,” I told him. “But I’m not going to die between here and wherever the hell the Indiana Highway Authority has decreed we’re allowed to stop.”
His brow furrowed. “I don’t like it when you’re in pain,” he said, his tone serious.
I blew out a half-snort. I couldn’t help it. “El, I’m in painall the time.It’s just a matter of degrees.” I’d said it before, and I knew he heard me, but I don’t think he really understood it. Part of me was a little annoyed at the fact that he didn’t—but I certainly hadn’t understood what chronic pain was like until I had it.
A glance told me he had his jaw clenched, biting back something. I wasn’t sure what, but it probably wasn’t anything I wanted to hear.
I wasn’t in the mood to be coddled. “Just say it, Elliot.”
He pressed his lips together. “You shouldn’t let it get that bad,” he replied sharply, not taking his eyes off the sun-baked highway.
“It doesn’t really give me a choice,” I snapped back. I knew I shouldn’t get mad at him for caring about me, but little sleep, stress, and the pain itself had frayed me down to my last nerve.
Elliot drew in a breath through his nose. “You don’t try to avoid it, either,” he replied in a tone of voice that told me he was trying to be patient.
“Elliot, I have used every fucking thing you have asked me to try. I take fifteen—fifteen—different herbal supplements because you and Henry think they might help.”
“You said?—”
