Brutal Precious (Lovely Vicious #3) by Sara Wolf

boy. For realsies, anyway. Not-drunk.
    I did other things. I held hands, and hugged. Nameless pretended real hard to be nice using hugs and hand-holding. Once or twice he even hinted he thought I was pretty. But it was an act, just to build me up before he tore me down. And it was all before the big it. Little it. It's not even worthy of a prefix. It's just 'it'.
    I have to leave that behind, too. There's no room for that. Not if I want to move on with my life. I've done my best to bury it, ignore it until it goes away, and it's sort of worked. I got far enough to sleep in a bed with Jack without freaking out. So I'm getting better, and that's real good to know.
    It gives me a little bit of hope where there used to be none.
    Jack helped me realize that I'm not unloveable. I'm not hopeless.
    I'm not all ugly.
    Or maybe I realized it on my own. Either way, fighting with him helped me realize lots of stuff. I grew up all kinds of ways.
    A sharp pain radiates in my chest, but I brush that dirt off my shoulder and watch Mom's smile.
    "There's the sign, sweetie. Get the map out, will you?"
    OHIO STATE UNIVERSITY looms in green and white on the side of the road. I pull out the brochure map and direct her onto the campus. Trees and rosebushes bloom like crazy, the emerald green lawn dappled with buttery, late-afternoon sun. The buildings are all old brickwork, ivy sprawling across windows and roman columns. The dorms are shabbier, but just as big. Hundreds of kids are walking around, their parents walking with them, or standing outside the car and hugging them one last time, or helping them carry baggage into dorms.
    Mom parks and gets out and my stomach drops with excitement as I fumble at the door handle. This is it. This is how my childhood ends.
    I finger the cigarette burns on my wrist, and make sure my sleeve is covering them. I take it back. My childhood ended a long time ago.
    Mom can't really pick up my heavy suitcase or backpack, so I drag them up the stairs and she follows. The room is tiny and white-washed and on the second floor, right next to the fire escape. There's no carpet, just cold tile, and the beds are so high up they seem made for, at the very least, Hagrid. Two beds are tucked into opposite ends of the room, a window glaring between them. Two desks are just beside the bed, with ass torture implements of the highest caliber - wood chairs. Two closets wait to be filled with shoes or condoms or failed exams or whatever else college kids fill empty spaces with. Broken dreams, maybe.
    My roommate has already claimed the left side, so I plop my stuff on the right. Mom fusses around with the bed sheets she packed, and makes my bed. I watch her work, knowing I'll miss the sight of her doing little things like this. I inspect my roommate's closet - a guitar, lots of army surplus jackets and hiking boots. She's littered her desk with silver jewelry - studs, rings with skulls, necklaces with spiked orbs of death. Yep. We'll get along just fine.
    Mom finishes the bed, and we walk downstairs and sit on the lawn, soaking in the sun. Mom holds my hand, stroking it with her thumb.
    "I'm sorry, Isis," She tries.
    "For what? Not birthing me a week or two later? I SO wanted to be a Leo. None of this Cancer nonsense."
    Mom smiles wryly. "No, not that. For...I don't know. I feel like I didn't do a very good job. But I suppose every parent feels like that."
    I squeeze her hand. "You did the best you knew how. Auntie understood. We both did."
    She nods, and squeezes back. "I'm just glad I could be with you for your last year at home. Even if...even if it was difficult."
    I know what regret looks like, now. I saw it in every line of Jack's face at the funeral. I'll never forget what it looks like, even if the Zabadoobians abduct me and bleach my brain. Mom wears it like a shawl, lightly, but holding it around herself, drawing it taut. I throw my arms around her, and bury my head in her shoulder.
    "It's okay. I had fun. It was hard but