❀ chapter seventeen | trashed ❀

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Don't ask me how I ended up in my underwear, stranded on a boat, and stuck with Jack Michel for company. The icy breeze made goosebumps rise on my arms. I wanted nothing more than to lay under my warm covers, then scolded myself for the thought. Better cold than bored in bed on a Friday night.

I carefully uncrumpled the three dollar bills Jack had given me, now soggy from our impromptu swim in the lake. I flattened them along the bow of the boat to dry, where the rest of our clothes also laid. A patch of clouds moved in front of the moon, darkening everything around us.

"So," I said. "How are we going to make it home?"

"I don't want to go home," mumbled Jack, who was now curled up with his knees against his chest, probably as freezing cold as me.

"Why not?"

He shrugged.

"You can tell me," I offered. He'd already said more words I ever thought him capable of tonight, so how hard could it really be?

"Noo," he said, then slumped his head onto his knees. "I don't trust you."

I rolled my eyes and sent Eli a text: Everything ok?

No reply. Guess I would definitely not be counting on him to rescue me tonight.

Two minutes later, Jack, still very much tipsy, his hair a wet, spiked-up mess, finally spilled: "My dad is at my house."

"Even though him and your mom are divorced?" I asked, wrapping my bare arms around myself. "That's weird. Well, guess I can't say anything because my dad let Grace stay over for a few nights, too."

Jack nodded slowly. "It's been... two years. They were arguing yesterday. My dad thinks it's Mutti's fault I grew up to be so... so messed up."

"Oh, please, you're not that messed up."

He rubbed his eyes. "She lied to him. She said that I was talking again, that I was normal. And then she tried to make me lie to him. She tried to make me... talk to him." He rocked slowly back and forth. "She was putting away my rocks so he wouldn't see them."

I went to sit beside him. He seemed to be trying his hardest not to look at me. "And what did you do?"

"I came to the party. I wasn't planning it... I just said I would... so Seth would shut up. But then I did."

Was this someone actually opening up to me? Usually people knew better, even Eli. I never had the right words, but maybe Jack was too drunk to care. I stared at the glowing, rippling water. The curve of his spine. Every detail vivid, almost too real.

"The only time Mutti doesn't worry about me," Jack continued, "is when I'm dating someone."

"Why?" I asked. More like why are you telling me this, but I didn't need him going quiet again.

"I guess she thinks I must not be too messed up if I can get a giiiirlfrieeend. They all break up with me anyway."

I laughed. "I bet they dump you once they find out you're more attracted to rocks than human beings."

He shot me one of his signature death glares, and I couldn't help but laugh harder.

"Kleinkriminelle," he muttered.

"What's that?"

"Petty criminal."

"What, do you want me to say something cheesy instead? Like you'll meet the right person someday?"

He looked away, slouching in on himself. "I don't care about that. They always want me to change. Not for me, but for them."

"Maybe that's just the girls you've been with."

"Those who were desperate enough... to put up with me."

Well. Now I knew something else about Jack Michel: alcohol, in addition to making him blab about his personal life, also got him in quite a self-loathing mood. And his smiley face underwear didn't help one bit.

"You're really not that bad," I said.

"I know," he scoffed. "I'm fucking amazing."

I let out another laugh. "Okay, was that you, or was it just the underwear talking?"

In the hazy light of the full moon, I saw him smile reluctantly. "...shut up."

I bumped my knee against his. "I bet you were waiting a long time to finally say that out loud. I'm always the one doing all the talking."

He groaned. "Don't remind me. Now... you tell me something. How was being... a kleinkriminelle?"

I'd held myself back from sharing the story with my friends, but given that Jack and I were both half nude and probably halfway to hypothermia, I didn't have much else to hide.

"Honestly, it was great," I said. "Sure, juvie was strict, but we found ways to get around the rules. There were these girls Anika and Penelope. Megan says Penelope is supposedly doing that beauty pageant, which is just weird. They were my best friends. One time we sacrificed a rat to the devil."

Jack raised an eyebrow. Greta, a devout Catholic, would have a heart attack if I told her. But maybe Germans were more open-minded.

"I miss it sometimes," I said, hesitating. "The person I was, I guess."

"What kind of person were you?" Jack asked.

"The delinquent they said I was. The sociopath. I know it's bizarre for me to miss it. Especially since I can go back to my upper-middle-class lifestyle whenever I want, and yeah most of the girls I met don't have that. All that's left to do is cling to this identity they make for you."

Jack nodded in that slow, careful way of his, listening to every word.

"All I know is that I liked that version of myself," I said. "Now everything's so... orderly. Or at least it was. I mean, look at us now." I leaned back, stared up at the stars.

Jack cleared his throat. "Do you feel... you're going back to who you were?"

"I don't know. It doesn't feel right to say that. It's like... becoming a different version of myself is like wearing an outfit a few times and then giving it away and buying something new. Or, well, in my case, shoplifting."

I had to stop myself from saying more. Had to tell myself to shut up. If I gave this sort of speech to my therapists, they'd think I was making progress, that I was becoming good again. But Jack was no therapist. He was nothing but a hot mess, watching me curiously, the smiley faces on his boxers the physical equivalent of the passive aggressive smiley faces he sent in texts.

"There's a version of you I like the most," he said, words still slurred, but not nearly as much as before.

My eyes bulged at his sudden boldness. I straightened my posture, trying to compose myself. "And what would that be?"

"When you're at the flower shop. Smiling with the customers and... arranging flowers. You look... happy. What's the word... mischief? Mis...chievous? But happy."

I suddenly felt vulnerable. A little bit violated, my natural reaction being to wince like he'd insulted me. And worse, I had to confront a more startling fact. That even though he hadn't spoken to me until now, he'd been watching me all this time.

And he watched me now. I stared back, thankful for the night's darkness, and narrowed my eyes when he smiled, smug as ever.

I kicked him lightly. "Jackass."

He tilted his head at me. "What happened to brat?"

"That, too."

Somehow, at some point, he fell asleep. Right there on the deck. What a mess. I went to the other side of the boat and tried to call Eli multiple times. Then Talia. Neither answered.

Defeated, I went to lay on the seat beside where Jack had drunkenly passed out. My skin turned numb from the cold. It was as if the other version of Romy had stayed frozen in the water, like Jack from the Titanic movie at the end. And this new version... laying in her underwear and staring at the stars, supposedly the type of person to smile when arranging flowers, felt a little bit too raw for my liking.

I drifted in and out of something that was less sleep and more like a prolonged trance. A hyperawareness of my body and everything around me. A good time to think about life and its meaning or lack of thereof, but dreams came to me instead. They floated up and then away, fragmented, nothing I remembered for more than a minute.

When I woke again, dawn had come. The sound of soft waves met my ears.

I sat up and squinted at the sun. We'd floated all the way to shore, washed up on the edge of a large, expansive park. Grass and trees covered the small hills. A few boats passed up and down the lake, far away from us.

A few minutes later, Jack stirred. A few minutes after that, he sat up. Rubbed his eyes. Then, as if finally realizing where he was, he shot up, startled. He patted his butt, then his bare chest, and horror spread through his features as he looked at me.

"Don't worry, we didn't do anything that crazy," I said. "Besides, don't you remember it was your idea to take off our clothes?"

He blushed. The early-morning light hid nothing. He staggered back, his wide eyes flickering everywhere—me, the boat, the view of mountains in the distance, shielded by a light fog.

I snorted. "Just so you know, I'm not rescuing you if you fall overboard again. But look, we've made it onto land."

He looked toward the park. Then looked at me. Then looked down at his smiley face boxers. Was he remembering the night's events, all the words he'd easily said? He threw his head back, let out his silent laugh. My lips parted at the sight. Him, lanky and freckled—a sleepy, reckless mess.

Okay, I had to take it back. He was way more than a 2.5 on a hotness scale, even with that atrocious choice of underwear.

"Nice talk, though," I said.

He made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. I found it kind of attractive, but then he slumped down and put his head in his hands.

I ran my fingers through my matted hair. "Listen, it's fine. I'm really not judging you as much as you think I am."

He kept shaking his head, over and over again.

"Would you prefer spending the night with Seth?" I asked, frustrated. "You're actually lucky I was there."

But once again, he went silent. Which was expected. Predictable. Normal. I'd gone the entirety of high school not needing to hear him speak.

Jack quickly put on his damp clothes. I did the same with mine. It gave me some serious dejavu from the times I'd get dressed after a hookup, and I almost laughed at the thought, tempted to make a joke, but I no longer had the words, either.

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"You're back!" Talia exclaimed as she opened the front door.

I pushed past her into the living room. "Yeah, and you didn't answer my call."

"What happened?"

"It's a long story. They were making fun of Jack at the party. He was drunk."

"How did you get home?"

"Also a long story. But hey, at least I didn't wreck your car."

"Where's Jack?"

I sighed. "Remember how you convinced me to rescue him? Well, I did it."

"And it took you the whole night to do it?"

"We got... sidetracked."

She pressed her hand to her cheek in shock. "Does that mean what I think it means? You'll have to tell me everything later. But we're almost late!"

"Late for what?"

"The shop, silly."

"Oh. Thanks for covering for me, by the way." The last thing I needed was another grounding from Dad and Greta. Or worse, Grace, but she wasn't here anyway. I swear I was getting paranoid.

"They didn't even notice you were gone. I guess they thought that you were up in your room the whole time, like usual. Awesome, right?"

Oh.

"Right."

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As I got into Talia's car, I thought of only one thing: would Jack be coming to work, too? Would he ignore me? Why did it even matter? He'd ditched me the moment we got off the bus near Eli's house. Which, strangely, had been empty. Something out of a lakeside murder scene, yet the only thing that died that night was probably his and Seth's friendship.

My fingers itched. I needed to get my hands on some flowers, something to distract myself with. I already felt the stems between the pads of my fingers, the soft petals, the overwhelming scent. Flowers. One of the greatest, most uncomplicated things in the world. Not as good, of course, as the money that selling them brought me.

"We're going to need more spray bottles," Talia was saying. "They keep breaking on me."

"That's probably what happens when we cheap out on our cleaning supplies," I said.

But when we arrived at the flower shop we realized... spray bottles were the least of our worries.

Our shop was trashed.

Windows broken into. Glass and petals scattered everywhere. Flowers thrown from their perfectly-placed arrangements. The door broken, crooked, and left ajar.

I didn't hear anything at that point. Didn't hear the swarm of thoughts in my head. Didn't hear Talia's panicked voice. Didn't hear the rage flame inside me as I kneeled down to inspect the mess.

And then, to top it all off, my phone buzzed.

From Jackass:

I quit.

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A/N: Posted at last! Who do you think broke into the flower shop? Is Jack quitting for good? I had a lot of fun writing his and Romy's late night conversation on the lake... let's see if there will be more like it 🙀

The song for this chapter is I Am Not A Robot by Marina & The Diamonds. If you're liking this book so far (we're about a little more than 1/3 of the way through!), don't hesitate to click on the vote button to show your support 🌸 thank you 🌸

This chapter is dedicated to xoewrites for reading and supporting this book ^-^ Thank you for sticking around for the new version! 

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