by Lee Jacquot
“Liliana?” I whisper, and immediately I regret it.
Her fake green eyes land on me, and I can see Lily’s mask is back in place. She shoves my hands away and reaches for her bag. “Fuck you, Spence. You have no idea what I’ve been through. You don’t get to just say it was all a big misunderstanding and think that will make everything okay.”
My stomach bottoms out and bile hits the back of my throat. Without thinking, my hand lurches out, gripping her forearm and spinning her around. “And you don’t get to sit here and act like you haven’t made my life a living fucking hell these past couple months. Like you’re the only one that has shit going on.”
Lily’s hand moves fast but I’m faster, catching it right before it connects with my face and yank her body into me, crashing my lips on hers.
A combination of anger and hurt swirl in my head, making me dizzy, but the sound of her moans in my mouth push it away, replacing it with hunger. Her hands tangle in my hair, tugging it with such force spikes of pain radiate through the roots.
I slam her against the wall, gripping a thigh that she wraps around my torso, bunching her skirt around her waist, and grasping the back of her neck with my free hand. We push into each other, forcing every part of our bodies to connect. My dick swells, pushing through my sweats and into her hot center that’s pressed against my stomach. I can feel the heat through her thin panties and a growl rips from the back of my throat.
Her hands leave my hair and claw at the hem of my shirt, pulling it up until I disconnect from her sweet mouth and lift my arms so she can tear it over my head. I kiss along her jaw, nipping as I make my way down her neck, reveling in the way her leg tightens around me, drawing me somehow closer to her center. One of my hands roves over her breast, rolling over a pebbled nipple, while the other moves to her hips, my fingers digging into her soft side.
She tastes so fucking good.
Her smell, her perfect skin, everything about her in this moment as she’s wrapped around me strips away every thought. My head is mush, only able to focus on her writhing under me, aching to feel how much I want her. Lily’s whimpers are music to my ears as I work my way down, licking across her collarbone until my tongue finds her necklace. I follow it down until the charm scratches under my chin.
Then it happens. She rips herself from beneath me and is across the room before I can decipher what the fuck just happened. Her chest is still heaving as her hand clutches the necklace, pulling it back and forth.
I lift a hand, grabbing my shirt off the floor while keeping my eyes on her. I keep my voice steady and calm. “Lily, I’m sorry. I don’t know—”
“Just leave me alone.” She yanks her bag from the back of the chair, disappearing out the door and leaving me reeling.
And as always, I let her go.
Because nothing meant for you will run away from you.
TWENTY FIVE
The girls run through their fifth repeat of our routine, nailing every count. It’s been a long time since I’ve been this proud of them, so I decide to reward them with an early finish. Having to move practice inside because of the weather seemed like torture enough as the gym AC sucks, and barely moving has us coated in sweat.
I stand from the basketball bleachers and commence a slow clap, strolling toward them. “Great job, ladies. I think we can call it.”
“But Tonya has been off the entire time.” Stacy pouts, crossing her pale arms over nonexistent breasts.
Everyone looks at Tonya, her tight coiled curls bouncing from a humorless laugh. She scoffs, flipping Stacy off, and I bite my lip to keep from laughing. “She was on point, just like everyone else.”
Stacy rolls her eyes, huffing as she bends to grab a towel. Amora is on her before her fingers graze the cotton and snatch it away. “Listen, you little shriveled up cunt. Part of being a captain is knowing when to call the practice and when to push harder. Everyone has done pretty fucking amazing. So how about you show some gratitude and stop bitching about practice being cut a few minutes. It smells like you could use the extra time in the shower.”
Amora flings the towel at Stacy’s stunned face and laughs. Stacy looks at me as all the other girls file into the locker rooms, muttering under their breath.
I shrug, popping a fresh cherry in my mouth before I stand. “If you want to make captain next year, you better get your shit together.”
Stacy’s eyes bulge out from her face, spit narrowly missing me as she shrieks, “If I want to be? You said that spot was mine!”
“If everyone hates you, you won’t have shit to lead,” I snap. “Go get cleaned up.”
Grabbing the bag of fruit my aunt packed me, I follow Amora, leaving Stacy still whimpering behind us.
Mina’s been with me for two weeks, refusing to leave now that she knows I’m alone, and packs me the best lunch every day, forcing me to eat more fruit.
It’s been strange, to say the least, but in a good way. It almost feels like having a mom, but better. Every day we talk more about the past, and each time, I let a little bit of the hurt go. According to my aunt, none of what happened had anything to do with me. A narcissistic mother and a busy father. The affair my mother had was bound to happen, and I got caught in the crossfire.
Mina told me that even as a kid, my mother needed everything to be about her and claimed having kids was her literal nightmare.
“She looked me dead in the eyes before her wedding with your father and said if he ever wanted kids, she would leave. She couldn’t imagine sacrificing her body, let alone her time, to take care of something as soul-sucking as a child. Some people are just like that, mija. It has nothing to do with you.”
“ And your father. He was a nice man, but he wanted a family after a while. When your mother had you, she handed you off so fast your dad’s head started spinning. He didn’t want to be a single dad with a wife in the next room. But then she started drinking.” My aunt paused, taking a deep inhale before continuing.
“Your father still loved her back then, so he took her away to some rehab, I’m guessing, out here in Washington. They said her triggers were family-related, so he kept me away, thinking I would come and cause your mother to relapse. I guess after your mother’s affair, he left, and since he was the only way I got to talk to you, I lost you and had no way to find out where you were. He sure as hell wasn’t answering my calls.”
I’d questioned a lot, but was most curious as to how she finally got my number. Turned out it was as simple as seeing a real estate ad on TV with my father’s face. She saw it and called right away. He didn’t tell her I was alone, probably because he doesn’t know.
The man may have loved me once, but now it only extends to monetary gifts. Which honestly, I would take any day over having two people like my mom.
I yawn, stretch my arms, and walk into the locker room. Soon enough, the girls clear out, leaving me to soak under the hot water and breathe the steamy essence of my lavender soap.
After we shower, Amora convinces me to visit a new coffee spot up the street. Something about a hot college guy she wants to sink her teeth into. When we get there, I find a place in the back, slightly secluded. It’s a dark shop lit by low-hanging lamps that bounce the light off dark brick walls. It’s pretty cozy with old worn sofas and chairs instead of plastic ones, and the smell of fresh ground coffee beans swirls in the air, calming my racing nerves.
I’ve decided to tell Amora a few things. Mainly about Spencer and me. After everything that happened in the pink room, I could use a little of her carefree yet frank advice.
My heart flutters at the thought of our mouths connected, his warm body pressed against mine. What it would be like to give in. Could we really come back from how far we’ve fallen?
“Earth to Lily. Girl, what the fuck are you thinking about up there?” Amora sets my drink down, flopping into the seat across from me. Her long ponytail swings behind her, slapping against her shoulder.
“Sorry,” I murmur, wrapping a hand around t
he warm paper cup. The heat burrows into my skin, skirting up my arms.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” Amora lifts her coffee, taking a tentative sip.
I chew on the inside of my cheek, wondering where I should start, what she might say. But her support has always been ironclad, even more so after the incident with my mom.
Butterflies take flight in my stomach, coasting around until I feel nauseous. “Erm. Spencer.”
Amora’s rose lips curl, her perfect pearly whites peeking through.
“About fucking time, bitch.”
I stare at Amora, whose mouth has yet to close. She’s stayed relatively quiet the entire time, only asking questions sparingly for clarification. The barista sets a second steaming coffee cup next to her, but she doesn’t move to touch it.
Just as waves of unease unleash like a tidal wave through my gut, she huffs, leaning back into the soft upholstery. She runs her tongue over her teeth before tilting her head to the side. “So, all this” —she waves a hand around— “was because you think he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, and you thought he was using you for a little summer fun?”
I chew on the inside of my lip until a bitter metallic taste coats my mouth. “Yes.”
Her eyebrows furrow. “And what did you think when he asked to move here?”
“Well, I figured he was eating his words since I” —framing my face, I give a tight lip smile— “Got a little sexier.”
Amora scoffs, picking up her now tepid drink, icy blue eyes rolling dramatically into her head. “I see. Well, honestly, Lil, I think it was a legit misunderstanding. And I got to say, he’s handled all the shit you’ve thrown his way really well. Any other guy would have had you gutted like a fish by now.”
I cringe inwardly at everything I’ve done—all the wasted time. Things could have been so different…
“What are you going to do?” She takes a sip, wrinkles her nose, and lifts a finger to beckon the barista.
“What do you mean?”
“Bitch, it’s clear you’ve got some seriously repressed sexual tension with the guy. That much is obvious, but do you still care about him?”
“No.” Yes. Shit. I do… my stomach curdles, and I push my drink away.
Her face jerks back, eyes widening as her brows shoot into her faint hairline. “Well, then, at your next little meeting thing, apologize and move on. It’s the last one, right?”
“Yeah…”
The realization settles over me like a cloud bearing the next flood. Gripping my necklace, I observe Amora as she flirts with the college guy that’s come to the table. She effortlessly laughs and touches him like he doesn’t light her skin on fire. It must be nice. Not having someone you hate and want to rip their clothes off at the same time.
Fine.
After all, I’ve done, a little apology wouldn’t hurt, and then we can move on... well, I guess the Band-Aid needs to be ripped off sooner or later when I leave for Kentucky.
Either way, Spencer and I are long overdue for some closure, and it’s time we both acknowledge that.
TWENTY SIX
One more meeting, three more finals, and five more days. If I can just last that long, things will get better. At least that’s what I tell myself for the millionth time while I pace the small room waiting for Lily.
She’s consumed my every waking thought, plaguing me with her words like a fucking virus in the body. They’ve attached to each cell, multiplying and moving through me, making me sick as hell.
I’ve forgotten to eat on more than one occasion, guilt swelling in my stomach when I think of what went through her mind when she heard me that day. How she felt.
Lily had shit parents—a dad that put work before his kid and a mom that locked herself in her room like it was an ivory tower. She would tell me I was the only one that understood her. Understood how it felt to be forgotten. To mean nothing to someone who was your world. Though our situations were different, I did understand her. And I did everything I could to show her just how important she was.
So for her to hear me say that she meant nothing… I scrub my face with my hands, agony swirling in my chest, seizing the muscle beneath.
All the shit these past few months seems trivial in comparison to how she must have felt. Because unlike her, when we parted ways, I still had a family that loved me. Parents that cared about me and pushed me. Lifted me up when I fell, gave me tough love when I acted out. And Lily…
She was alone.
The door handle jiggles, shoving my heart into my throat, and I press my body into the back wall to keep steady when it opens.
She steps through the door, eyes downcast. Her cream sweater hangs from one shoulder, draping loosely over a pair of skintight torn black jeans. She’s frustratingly beautiful, and today, she looks a little less… cruel.
Lily sits down softly at the edge of her seat, keeping her bag draped over her side rather than hanging it off the chair.
She doesn’t intend to stay long.
I sigh, taking the remote from my pocket and flipping on the last color—an emerald green. The timer ticks away, and the air around us thickens, filling with our mingling scents and shuddered breaths.
My hands tremble at my sides, and I have to physically push my weight onto my heels to keep from moving. Anxiety works its way up my spine, firing electricity through my brain like a lightning storm. There’s so much I want to say...
As if she’s counted the seconds in her head, she begins a fraction before the timer goes off.
“Hey.” Her voice is hoarse, cracked like she hasn’t spoken all day.
“Hey.”
“How was your day?” Still, her eyes are stuck on the table, and never in my fucking life have I wanted to stare at those stupid ass contacts so badly.
“Busy,” I rush out, eager to get to the open-ended segment. “How was your day?”
Lily’s throat bobs, and she shifts in her seat, crossing her feet at the ankles. She keeps her back straight, but her shoulders deflate a little when she answers. “Okay. How are you feeling?”
“I’m sorry.” The words tumble out before I can stop them.
Her head snaps up, her eyes finally connecting with mine, stealing my breath. Her mouth opens and closes twice before she mutters, “For what?”
Gripping the nape of my neck, I squeeze, unable to look away from her. “I...should’ve tried harder to figure out what happened to us. I shouldn’t have let you think that you meant nothing.”
Lily scoots back in her chair, folding her arms as if to hug herself. “No. Spencer…” she swallows, a light blush creeping across her face. “I think we both could have done things differently. I, for one, didn’t have to do all those things to you.”
“I understand, though. If I were yo—”
“Don’t.” Her voice is firm, and she arches forward to clench her knees, her knuckles blooming a bright white.
“Don’t what?” I breathe.
“Act like you understand anything about me or the reasons I’ve done things. You don’t know anything.”
I scoff, leaning back into my chair, slight irritation trying to push away the guilt I felt seconds ago. “I know all about you, Lily. I know you still dance in the windows like nobody’s looking and that your ears turn bright red when you lie. I know your favorite food is popcorn, but it’s also your least favorite because the kernels get stuck in your gums. Yo—”
“Stop. That’s superficial shit, Spencer. You are completely clueless as to who I am. The shit I’ve gone through…” Her voice trails off, but her nose flaring tells me she’s on the verge of crying or screaming. I’m not quite sure which.
Annoyance and frustration bubble up into my throat because, really, I want to know. I want to know everything. All the shit she’s had to go through and make up for all the times I wasn’t there.
But I know better.
What’s done is done.
I rub my temples, trying my best to push away the thumping aga
inst my skull. “I see you plenty, Lily. But what’s the point of doing this? It won’t change anything.”
Her breath hitches, and she blinks a few times as if I’ve said something off-kilter. A couple more blinks, and she’s able to grab at her calm composure. “Smartest thing I’ve ever heard you say. Are we done here?”
I suck in a bit of air, letting my pulse gain some type of rhythm before nodding. This is not what I had planned. Definitely not what I fucking wanted.
“Hmhm.” My answer is slow, drawn-out, only because I know what will happen when she walks out.
It will be the last time she does it. This will be the last time we are confined within the four walls, forced to fucking talk to each other.
This is it.
We will become two strangers with a few shared memories and a tragic backstory.
And I’m going to let her walk out because I’m not the type to force someone to stay. Or maybe it’s because I am a little weak after all. Unwilling to really fight for people because in the end… they can easily forget who you are.
But as I stare down at my twitching hand, and listen to my aching heart, rattling in my chest like it’s threatening to stop beating once she’s gone, I know.
It’s the first time I’ve been able to admit it. I don’t want her to go.
But I do.
I always fucking do, and today… I accept that whatever we had, is done.
Somehow, I made it through the week and aced every fucking final.
Little by little, I’ve cleaned out my locker and connected with all my teachers making sure everything was good to go. Now, all that’s left is to—
“Hey, you.” Remy slides next to my locker, a soft smile curling the edge of her lips. Somehow she’s managed to pull half her dark locks up into a lopsided bun, and she looks more like a librarian than ever.
“Hey.”
“All cleaned out?” Her voice is low, somber. She tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear before rotating to put her back against the cold metal.
