Extraits

Haïr, c'est bien. Pardonner, C'est mal.

Spoiler(cliquez pour révéler)Just breathe, Kacey. Ten tiny breaths. Seize them. Feel them. Love them. I play these words over and over in my head like I have a thousand times before to no avail, as I lie awake in my cell that’s not actually a cell. It’s a nice small room with a private bath and sunny yellow walls, but I feel confined all the same.

Dr. Stayner knew what my mom meant right away. I could tell by that snotty smirk on his face. I guess you have to be super smart. Dr. Stayner is obviously super smart. I, obviously, am not.

I inhale deeply, jogging my memory of the conversation. What did he say, again? Breathing can be a coping mechanism. And then he questioned the tiny breaths. But he set up me. He already had the answer to it. And the answer is …

One … two… three … I count to ten, hoping profound wisdom will land on my head. It doesn’t.

Do you think it matters if they’re tiny or deep? he asked. Well, if they’re not tiny breaths and they’re not deep breaths, then they’re just … breaths. Then you’re just breathing for the sake of … breathing.

… Seize them. Feel them. Love them …

I bolt up straight, a weird calming sensation flowing through my body as understanding dawns on me.

It’s so simple. God, it’s so fucking simple.

There’s a long pause. “Put yourself in his shoes for moment, Kacey.”

The smashed windshield.

The twisted metal.

Dark smears.

Liquid pools.

Blood. Everywhere.

It all suddenly disappears and I’m falling backward, crashing into cold water, sinking further into the darkness, picking up speed as the weight of an ocean swallows me whole. I open my mouth to search for air. A lungs worth of cold water greets me in a rush, filling me inside. The pressure in my chest is unbearable. It’s ready to explode. I can’t breathe … I can’t breathe. Tiny breaths, I hear my mom instruct, but I can’t do it. I can’t get even one. My body’s shaking … shaking … shaking …

“Forever’s a long time.” Trent’s arms squeeze around me. “Forever’s not long enough when it’s with you.”

“I barrel into his arms, my mouth connecting with his. Seizing him. Feeling him. Loving him.”

“I should stalk over there and pee around his table to stake my claim. Wait...what? Jeez, Kacey.”

“I could lay here and stare at him forever. I don’t want to let go. Ever.”

“What if he's a psychopath who tries to stuff kittens in ATMs?”

“I can feel his very existence as if it's wrapping its hand around my soul, cradling it, trying to protect it from harm and I'm terrified. Terrified because I don't ever want the feeling to end.”