by Mahi Mistry
I won’t apologize for not writing daily because I can’t keep up with a routine—you of all people know that.
Seems like we all are hiding secrets from each other.
But my question to you is that, are you keeping it a secret to protect me? Because you know why I kept all this shit from you, to protect you. From me.
I don’t think you are protecting me by hiding it. I can see the words slut written on my locker, E. You can’t just go around punching every guy who passed by my locker. But it’s okay. They are just words and I am fine with it.
You don’t have to do anything about it. I am fine.
Love,
Kiara
Twenty-Two
25th August, Saturday
Did I ever mention that you would make a great boyfriend? Not that we are in a relationship, but I could tell from eighteen years of us being best friends . . . and doing other deeds.
Yeah, just wanted to get that out. I’ll get back to cuddling you because you’re already whining in your sleep. Even though you’re three times my size, I don’t mind being the bigger spoon, just saying.
Love,
Kiara
Twenty-Three
5th September, Wednesday
I am so done with this life. She’s dead. My mother is dead . . . oh, God.
I can’t keep going on like this, Ethan. I am tired. Fucking exhausted. The worst part is that when she was in pain, I was busy having sex with you in the school cubicle. I hate myself. I hate this body. I hate everything.
It broke me to see my dad cry, hear my brother’s muffled sobs and your warm tears on my skin when you cried, hiding your face in my neck. I couldn’t cry but let silent tears slide down my face.
I got angry with myself when you said you didn’t want to touch me like that or even help me forget. I hurt you using my words, but you didn’t run away.
Why didn’t you? You can’t let me do that to you, Ethan. Maybe it’s a good thing I left in the end.
I want nothing but the hurt to swallow me whole and drown in my own tears.
Twenty-Four
5th October, Friday
It’s been a month since my mom passed away. It’s also been a month since I stopped writing. How could I when the pen and my reflection remind me of my dead mother?
I thought things would change, but most of it has stayed the same. The world goes on whether or not you’re suffering.
Thank you, Ethan, for scolding me and getting me to eat, and to stop pretending to sleep all the time. I would wake up with a nightmare and you’d always be there, calming me down and bathing me in warm water if I had a panic attack. You are truly an angel.
I know you saw how skinny I had become and heard me puking out the food as soon as I ate. You are stubborn when you want something. Even if it means taking care of me and learning how to make Indian food for me. You burnt the curry yesterday with the pan, but I forgave you because you looked adorable with a sheepish smile.
I gave you your sketch I was working on. Before Karan ruined it and I had the guts to sketch it again.
But, hey, you loved it, so that’s something. You showed it through something else, which was a bonus.
Even though we broke my bed and my dad grounded me for ‘jumping too much on the bed.’ I knew you were holding your laugh standing buck naked in my closet, you loveable fool!
Sigh. Is it bad that I forgive you for breaking one thing I love more than you? It’s like my favorite thing broke my other favorite thing. Even though you’re not a thing to me, you already know that.
In case you’re wondering, we have already ordered a new bed for me and it’s tougher than the last one but please, don’t break this one, too.
Love,
Kiara
Twenty-Five
11th October, Thursday
So . . .
I had my first and last lesbian encounter.
Remember, we had rough and almost jealous sex in your car after we left the library? I know I was riding you hard (you didn’t complain) but I was jealous, okay? Probably you were, too.
That is why we had so much fun with the chocolate cake. You know what I mean.
Love,
Kiara
Twenty-Six
22nd October, Monday
You know what scares me the most other than losing myself and dying? You. Losing you. And I almost did today.
I know you didn’t mean the words you said to me when you saw Liam hugging me and hearing me confess that we had shared a kiss. But they still hurt. Not to mention, my father wanted to go back to India and I just couldn’t handle it all.
It hurt me more when you said you didn’t want to see any of us. But I stayed put. I was scared that if I moved an inch, something would happen to you and I would blame myself for it. I was fuming with anger, pain and hurt when I saw you on that bed. I never want to go through that again, Ethan.
Yes, I let the words slip out about how I feel about you in anger, but don’t you ever scare me like that again.
It was the scariest incident of my life. Even scarier than me being suicidal because I might lose the only thing I was living for.
Love,
Kiara
Twenty-Seven
26th October, Friday
Today is the most special day, E. Today, eighteen years ago, you were born covered in blood and screaming your throat out. Yes, I wanted to make sure you cringed.
I can’t imagine growing up without you by my side. I’ve successfully completed my first ever book so I could give it to you as your birthday gift. Ignore the mistakes, grammar Nazi. I may or may not have written their first intimate moment from personal experience . . . if you get my drift.
Even though I am a mess, I hope you know that you mean everything to me.
Love,
Kiara
Twenty-Eight
29th October, Monday
I went to school today and . . . some stuff happened. Nasty stuff. Which I don’t want to tell anyone about. Ever. But I can’t hide it from you either.
You were getting discharged today, and we were happy about it. I had decided to take personal care of you and Katherine teased me to wear a sexy nurse outfit for you. I’m sure you would have liked that very much.
I think I would have worn it if I was not harassed by Dave Cooper, the one and only dearest son of principal Inez.
I can’t talk about it so I am doing what I am good at. Writing about it. I may or may not have told him off in the canteen when he and his friends were making fun of you. I couldn’t stand it, so I insulted him in front of his friends. I get it; I overstepped a line. But what he did to me . . . was far worse.
He must have followed me to the girl’s bathroom when I was alone and, um, tried to force himself on me. He called me a slut, whore and what-not. For a moment, I was scared. I was frozen with what seemed like fear running in my veins. I was terrified when he grabbed my wrists and shoved his tongue down my throat. I knew I was crying, tasting the salt in my mouth and trying to push him away when his . . . oh God, his hand lowered to my jeans.
I bit his tongue and pushed him away as hard as I could, covering myself from him and his disgusted eyes. What he did next shocked me. He looked genuinely surprised when he saw how terrified I was of him. He seemed to get out of his trance.
He stared at my tearful eyes and said that this was supposed to be a prank and that he didn’t mean any of it. Like yeah, groping someone and forcefully kissing them while they cried to get away is supposed to be a prank.
Dave Cooper and his friends are worthless pieces of shits. For doing this to me and God knows how many other girls they have pranked. I don’t know how many times I washed my face, hands and mouth trying to get rid of his touch and scent.
I realized that I can’t always be Jhansi Ki Rani.
I somehow got home without getting scared of any guy who walked past me. I apologize for not being there to take you home when you were discharged. I was too busy hating myse
lf and my body.
I picked the blade. I won’t go into details, but yes, I cut myself. It was just in the moment when all the dark thoughts came. Like I said before, one step toward happiness and ten big steps backward into the darkness. You know it’s ironic how the voice in my head told me to cut myself but it was also the one who said that I am not alone just lonely.
I am such a crazy person to befriend that voice, aren’t I? Or was I too desperate for someone to feel my pain and understand it?
Twenty-Nine
30th October, Tuesday
I love how your face lights up like the fourth of July when you see me laugh or smile, especially when you are the reason behind that smile. I really do. It’s like you have achieved something impossible that you are proud of.
But you can’t always do that, Ethan.
When we were kissing today and going to do more intimate stuff, I remembered that I had disgusting cuts on my thighs. I didn’t want you to see them and ask me what had happened because I knew I would have told you. About everything.
That’s why I tried to push you away when you were about to remove my pajamas. But that’s not the whole point. I saw Dave’s face every time you kissed me and felt his rough hands when you held me.
It was wrong, but I was scared. I am sorry you had to see me cry and almost have an anxiety attack. I couldn’t help myself.
I didn’t sleep that night until I had enough guts to face you. So, I took my blanket and snuggled with you. As your warm body cuddled with me, all the bad thoughts went away. Just like that. I apologized to you and I meant it.
I pushed you away, but you stayed and now I wished I had stayed too.
Love,
Kiara
Thirty
It’s been such a long time since I opened this book and made myself vulnerable. Maybe I was a coward, or maybe I was busy. You’ll never know.
I have decided, Ethan. I have already hurt myself, Liam, and a little part of you. I can’t do that again anymore.
Today was prom, and it was great.
I almost tripped on my heels when I saw you tonight. Your green and blue eyes were shining so brightly with a slight curve on your lips that made my heartbeat faster. I wanted to cry seeing you like that, as you gazed at me with so much adoration in your beautiful unmatched eyes. Because, soon, I would lose the one person I breathed for.
I wanted tonight to be just us. I ignored the guilty stares of Dave and his friends, the longing gaze of Liam, and lost myself in you.
I love how you didn’t complain when I stepped on your toes and told me to sway at the music. You’re too good to me, Ethan.
Maybe this was a good thing. Because if I would have stayed, I would pretend to be normal, and you’d never know how I felt all this time.
I would never forget about tonight, Ethan. Wherever I go, I will always have tonight locked in my heart. It was so hard not to spill the truth when you hovered above me and looked at me with your unmatched eyes like I was everything and more you wished for.
We both were crying at the intimacy and pleasure as if it was our first time. In a way, it was. We made love today. Not to each other’s bodies, but to our souls. Every part of it was beautiful.
It hurts to know that I will never experience it again.
I hated waking up and getting dressed while you slept. A goofy smile curved on your lips. Maybe dreaming about our future. It hurts to know that I won’t be with you the next morning, or in your future.
With a heavy heart, I crossed the distance between us and held back my tears as I let myself open up to you. I hope you forgive me and know that I love you.
I am a mess, Ethan. You don’t deserve me. You deserve someone better and more. A person who won’t lie to you every single day. A person who won’t hide their true self from you. Maybe I am worse than Ariana to do this to you. You are my saving grace, E. I can’t stand the idea that I let myself hurt you so much, I am sorry for losing you.
I hope that tomorrow when you wake up, you might understand why I had to do it.
I love you.
End of Part One
*six years later*
I saw you today, and it almost made my heart stop.
Your hair is longer than before and your smile is even wider. You looked so breathtaking, laughing without a care in this world. The same old dimples I loved—deeper than before as they poked your cheeks. Your golden skin was glowing.
Should I come talk to you? Would you scrunch your nose in that adorable way I know when I struggle to stumble words out of my lips? Would you look at me like a past lover or a stranger?
Maybe I shouldn’t get my heart broken today. Well, too late.
Ethan
“I wish I had never loved you.”
I stared deadly at the pen stand, my heavy-lidded eyes barely staying up. Fuck. I need to sleep. Then I remembered how I had slept last night and smiled.
“Ethan!”
My skin jumped, my eyes fluttering open and blinking at my agent, Elliot Warner, with wide innocent eyes. I rubbed my eyes and shuffled in my seat.
I drawled, “What now? Am I getting detention again?”
He sighed audibly, a sign that I had fucked up badly this time. Not going to lie, I had been fucking up since last year, so he has been sighing a lot. I wouldn’t be surprised if I was the reason behind the white thinning hair on his sides.
“Not detention. But our sponsors are cutting the endorsement deals,” he ran a hand through his hair and sat down behind his massive oak wood desk and lit up a cigar.
The stench of smoke woke me up from the hangover, my skin crawling with the need to put the cigarette in between my lips and inhale—No, we are not going there, Ethan.
I replayed his words twice in my head and drank a glass of water. “Why the endorsement deals? I scored a gold medal, didn’t I?”
I don’t know why I even bothered asking that when I knew the answer.
I had fucked up. Big time.
Elliot smiled at me like a father would at his son. “You punched Richard fucking Jane. Did you forget about that when you spent time with Aretta last night? Seriously, Kane, what the fuck were you thinking?”
I slouched in my seat, looking at the lollipop wrapped in sparkly red paper. Of course, I remember it. How could I forget punching the famous celebrity reporter, Richard Jane. It felt so good doing it that I forgot his cameraman had the footage and leaked it on the internet, so I was on every celebrity news.
Ethan Kane, the twenty-five-year-old swim athlete and a model, punched Richard Jane, fleeing away from the scene to spend the night with the famous pop singer, Aretta.
I remember how it all started. Liam and I were invited to the VS fashion show as we were top swimmers after passing USA Swimming Olympic Trials with A-Level qualification standards. But he bailed on me at the last moment as he had some issues with his family to deal with and couldn’t arrive there.
“How did you sleep last night?” Elliot asked, his voice stern while he watched me with his piercing coal black eyes.
I smiled thinking about last night. About Aretta. I ran my hand through my hair and smirked at him, “I slept like a baby.”
He gave me the briefest smile. “Touché. Hope you had fun last night, Kane, because you need to clean up your act or your sponsors are cutting you out of the endorsement deals.”
I frowned, my head still throbbing slightly from the little alcohol I had last night. “Clean up what act?”
He leaned back in his chair and I knew I was about to get a lecture. “Oh, let me think. Last month you slept with Chris Moore’s wife, and then your dick didn’t have enough so you slept with his twenty-one-year-old daughter a week later, officially removing you from his modelling gig. Not to mention, Julian. You were drunk and flirted with a female cop and slept with her in the back of her cop car. Do you know how hard it was for me to clean that up? And last night, you punched Richard fucking Jane in front of his cameraman, and every news, fashion and fitness ma
gazine is talking about you.”
I flashed him a grin.
He glared at me.
My grin dropped. I sighed, keeping my elbows on his large oak wood desk. “Okay, first of all, Chris Moore’s wife is hot; you have seen her. How could I resist when she wanted me to fuck her on her bed? And the daughter was really sweet. We were both tipsy after a party and it just happened. About Julian, um, long story short. Someone caught her with her handcuffed to the door because we lost the key. Not to mention, Richard deserved it.”
My nerves twitched just thinking about Richard, the oh so fancy reporter who I hated with all my guts. Especially after what he did last night.
Elliot, my agent and a good friend, knew I wouldn’t have resorted to violence without a motive. His jaw ticked when he said, “HR doesn’t care about that shit, Kane. They want you to clean up your act.”
Of course, they wanted me to clean up my act. I needed to clean up my act. I could imagine my mothers’ faces when they saw the news and called me later to talk to me about it. I closed my eyes and wondered how everything went to shit.
The music was too loud at the after party of the VS show. I took a flute of champagne and downed it in three gulps. My bow tie was itching me, so I took it off, tugged at a few buttons and kept it in my pocket. The air felt too heavy with perfume, alcohol and something female and musky. I could smell the hair products from the striking lady sitting beside me during the dinner.
I jumped when her hand landed on my thigh and gave it a squeeze. I smiled, turning to her when she flashed me a toothy grin, her red lipstick perfect for her lips. But there was something in her gaze, which I didn’t want right then. Especially when her claws painted in the same shade of red trailed upwards.
