Page 95 of June First
And it’s not fair.
It’s not fucking fair.
If my father hadn’t murdered my mother, I would still just be the neighbor boy and she would be the girl next door. Instead, he branded us with a label, forced me into something twisted. He turned the only girl I’ve ever wanted into the only girl I can never have.
But I still love her.
I still love her in all those other ways—all those precious, pure, good ways.
And I just have to hope that the rotten love doesn’t spoil all the rest.
Lines were starting to blur.
And if there’s anything in this world that can mess a man up inside and drive him to the brink of insanity, it’s a blurred line.
I did all I could to rid myself of the bad love, without ridding myself of June entirely. I truly did.
I tried to temper it.
Tried to bury it alive.
But here’s the thing about trying to bury something that isn’t dead—
Sometimes it comes back, madder than ever.
19
FIRST LAW OF NATURE
The first law of nature is self-preservation. Cut off that which may harm you. But if it is worth preserving, and is meaningful, nourish it and have no regrets.
—T. F. HODGE, FROM WITHIN I RISE
BRANT, AGE 24
It’s June’s eighteenth birthday.
The last nine months have blown by like a tumbleweed in the desert, leaving me burned out and sucked dry. We’ve gotten back into a semi-old routine, with June none the wiser about the insidious feelings that have attached themselves to me like a leech.
She’s my Junebug again.
And that’s because there’s no other option.
There’s no other way.
“Yo, Luigi!” Theo hollers, storming in through the back patio, already on his third beer. “Peach wants cake. Hurry it up or I’m gonna start calling you Toad.”
My lips pucker as I crane my neck to glance at him in the kitchen. “Why?”
“Toads are slow.”
An amused grin pulls into place, and I multitask with the final layer of fondant, while revealing the truth to Theo. “You might want to be sitting down for this, but I have some news. Toad is a mushroom—not a toad.”
“What the hell?”
“Don’t tell me you never knew this. He looks exactly like a mushroom.”
Theo taps the half-empty beer bottle against his thigh, running a hand through his slightly grown-out sandy hair. “I always thought he was a weird-ass-looking toad. Why is his name Toad, then?”