by Amber Garza
He shrugs. “Probably to make you jealous.”
“It worked,” I say sourly.
“Kassidy, you’re the only girl I want to be with. No one else.”
When I peer up at him, a strand of hair falls in my face. He tucks it behind my ear, the pads of his fingers trailing over my cheek. I shudder.
“I’ve felt this way since the first moment I ran into you at the concert. I know you think it’s because you didn’t know who Ross was, but that’s not true. I was attracted to you the minute you turned those pretty brown eyes on me. You stole my heart in that moment, and I would’ve liked you no matter what.” He smiles. “I mean, I’m not gonna lie, it would’ve sucked if I found out you were a huge fan of Ross’s. But it wouldn’t have stopped me from wanting to be with you.”
It’s everything I’ve wanted to hear from him. I fasten my arms around his waist, never wanting to let go. “I shouldn’t have friended Ross without talking to you first.”
He shakes his head. “No. Don’t do that. You can be friends with whoever you want.”
“I know. It’s just…I don’t even know why I friended him. I mean, I did want to say thank you for the tickets. But I also felt like it would be cool to be friends with a celebrity. I know that sounds stupid.”
Archer laughs. “It doesn’t. It makes sense.”
“Not because I like him…at least not that way. I mean, he’s cool. A lot cooler than I thought he’d be.” Oh, man. I’m doing it again. I’m rambling like an idiot. “But I like you.”
“It’s okay,” Archer cuts me off, his lips curling in amusement. “I understand.”
“I knew what had happened with Tiffany and stuff, and I should’ve been more sensitive.”
His hands rub up and down my arms, causing warm friction. I like it. “You shouldn’t have to pay for what she’s done. You’re not her. You’re different.”
I glance down at my less than stellar body. “Oh, yeah, I’m different than her all right.”
Archer furrows his brows. “Why’d you say it like that?’
“Oh, come on. I think we both know Tiffany’s got a lot I don’t.”
“No.” Archer tucks his finger under my chin, holding my head steady. Then he stares deeply into my eyes. With his gaze trained on mine, everything else falls away. It’s like we’re the only two people in the world. Like he has me under some kind of spell, one I never want to break. “You have a lot that she doesn’t. Trust me. Kassidy, I’ve never felt this way about anyone else. Not Tiffany. Not anyone.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He softly kisses my lips.
“Why? What do you like about me?” I know the question’s lame, but I’m too curious to keep quiet.
“Well, there’s the obvious hotness.” His gaze travels down my body. Cheeks heating up, I let out a nervous giggle. “But you also have something that no other girl I know has.”
“Oh, yeah?” I raise an eyebrow playfully. “What’s that?”
“You’re real,” he says simply. “You’re a genuinely good person. I could tell that when I first met you.”
When he goes in for another kiss, I push him away, feeling like an imposter. Archer’s wrong. I haven’t been real with him, and I’m not a good person.
That couldn’t be further from the truth.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Archer
@themacattack Good news, ladies. I’m now free tonight. #hmu #anytakers #therealmacdaddy
Mac: You still wanna hang out tonight?
Me: Nah. I’m busy.
Mac: With who?
Me: Kassidy came over.
Mac: Ooh. Why you texting me, then?
Me: I didn’t. You texted.
Mac: You didn’t have to answer.
Me: She’s waiting for me. I’m changing.
Mac: Dude, TMI.
Me: It’s not like that.
Mac: If you say so.
Chapter Forty
Kassidy
#20—Say good-bye
“I’m not who you think I am,” I say.
One side of Archer’s lips curls upward. Again, I’m acutely aware of the fact that he’s still not wearing a shirt. My pulse is so rapid I’m certain it’s reaching dangerous levels. “You’re not Kassidy Milton, senior at Oakhollow high?”
“Well…n-no, I am,” I sputter, his question catching me off guard.
“Then you are exactly who I think you are.” He’s so cute, I want to wind my arms around him and forget all of this. But I know that’s not fair. Archer’s been so honest with me, and it’s time I do the same.
“Technically, yes,” I say. “But there are things you don’t know about me.”
“That’s okay. I like a little mystery.” His hands find my waist, and I melt under his touch. When I’m about to lose my head again, I wriggle away swiftly.
“Archer,” I sigh.
“Fine.” Stepping back, he rakes a hand through his hair. “Why don’t you come inside? I’ll put on a shirt and we can talk.”
He had me up until the shirt comment.
“Actually, why don’t you come with me? There’s something I want to show you.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Okay. Just give me a minute.”
I nod as he slips inside. When he returns, he has on jeans and a T-shirt. Not nearly as sexy as what he had on before, but not bad, either.
The faint scent of sweat lingers in my car as I drive away from his house with him in the passenger’s seat.
“What kind of workout were you doing?” I ask.
“Just weights and stuff,” he answers, staring at the side window. “Ross and I set up a makeshift gym in the garage a couple of years ago. We used to work out together all the time. Now I use it alone.”
Ah, that makes sense. The vision of Archer’s muscular chest fill my mind again. I clear my throat and clutch the steering wheel tightly.
“Where are we going?” Archer glances around.
“You’ll see.” I blow out a breath while flicking on my blinker.
When we arrive at my house, it’s dark. I’m grateful no one’s home. The last thing I want to deal with are Mom’s teenage phrases, Dad’s protective glances, and Sophie’s endless questions. Flicking on lights throughout the house, I lead Archer back to my room.
“You’re bedroom, huh?” Archer comes toward me wearing a grin. “I had no idea this is what you had in mind for tonight.” His hands splay against my waist as he gently guides me against the wall. His lips hover over my skin. “It was seeing me shirtless, huh?” He winks. “Told you I was ripped.”
“Yes, you did.” Shoving him off playfully, I laugh. He steps aside. “No. I actually brought you here to show you this.” Sweeping out my arms, I indicate the photos strewn on the ground next to an open box of memories. It’s what I’d been looking through the past couple of days.
Archer’s teasing expression vanishes, and he lowers himself onto his knees in front of the pictures. Then he reaches out and gingerly picks one up. “Is this Kate?”
Nodding, I swallow past the hard lump rising in my throat.
“You two look happy here.”
“We were,” I whisper, finding it difficult to talk through all the emotion. My lips tremble slightly around the words. I sink onto the carpet next to him.
He’s quiet a moment as he stares at the photograph. Then he lifts his head until his gaze reaches mine. “Then what’s going on? What did you want to tell me?”
Unable to look at the pictures any longer, I avert my gaze to my hands. The nail polish is chipped, the skin cracked. “I’m working on this paper in English about a defining moment in my life. Everyone thinks the defining moment is Kate’s death, and that’s true, but not in the way they think.” My voice wavers, and tears spill down my cheeks. I inhale sharply before continuing. “I know everyone thinks I’ve taken Kate’s death so hard because we were close, and they’re right. But I haven’t told anyone how I was so angry with her in the weeks leading up to h
er death. About how I was tired of her bossing me around and telling me that the things I liked were stupid. And…” I pause, swallowing hard. “I’ve never told anyone that at the sleepover the weekend before she died, we fought. I finally stood up to her. I said awful things, Archer.” The sobs are choking me now, my words barely audible. “That’s why none of the girls in our group talk to me anymore. They were there. They heard what I said. After Kate died, they were so angry with me.”
“That’s not fair.” Archer reaches out and rests his hand on my leg. I stare down at it. “It happens. I’ve said mean things to Mac before.”
“Mac’s still here,” I say. “I never had a chance to say I was sorry.”
His face falls, and his hand slides away. “But you couldn’t have known.”
I nod. “It’s why I was so scared when you got sick. It felt like history repeating.”
“But it wasn’t,” he points out. “I’m still here, and we got past all of that.”
“I never would’ve forgiven myself if we hadn’t. There was no way I could go through that again.” I sniff.
“You can’t beat yourself up about this forever, Kassidy. I’m sorry that Kate died, and I’m sorry you fought, but things like this happen.”
“You don’t get it,” I snap. “You said that you like me because I’m a good person, but you’re wrong. After Kate died there were times when I felt relief. Not relief that she was dead. Never that. I would give anything for her to be alive again. But I was relieved to finally be out from under her shadow.” A sob breaks through my lips. “What kind of monster feels relief after their best friend dies?”
“You’re not a monster.” His warm hand rests on my arm, and I flinch.
“Yes, I am.” Yanking my arm back, I scoot away from him. I don’t deserve sympathy.
“No, you’re not. I know exactly how you feel.”
“You do?” My head bounces up, my gaze finally daring to meet his.
“Yes. I’ve felt the same way since Ross’s been on tour. It’s like I finally get to be myself. It was why I was so bothered when he showed up unexpectedly that night when you were over watching movies. But it makes me feel guilty because I shouldn’t want him gone.”
My heart sinks. “That’s not the same thing at all. Kate is gone for good. Ross is only gone for now. He’ll be back. Kate never will.” The trembling lips rev up again.
“What happened to Kate was a tragedy. It was a horrible thing. But it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t something you could’ve prevented. And it wasn’t something you wanted.” He moves closer again, and this time I can’t move back. He’s quite literally backed me into a corner. I take a deep breath. “You said yourself that you wish she was still alive.”
“But I also said I was relieved,” I remind him.
“It’s not relief you feel over her death. It’s hope that you finally have the opportunity to find yourself. There’s a difference.”
“Is there?”
“Yes. There is.” He pauses. “Let me ask you this. When she was alive, did you ever wish she was dead?”
“Never.” I shake my head firmly. “I mean, I sometimes wished I had the courage to stand up to her, to pursue the things I wanted, regardless of what she thought about them. But I didn’t wish her away. Honestly, I didn’t even want her out of my life. I loved her.”
“See?” He says with a smile. “There’s nothing to feel guilty about.”
I want to take hold of his words. I want to gather them up and press them between my palms like dried flowers to preserve for later. “The first few weeks after she died, I was heartbroken. My parents were so worried about me. I had no idea who I was without Kate. I felt like I was missing a part of myself. But then I realized this was my opportunity. That’s when I started trying all those new things. And that’s when I met you.” I swipe at my face. “I’ve been so happy. Happier than I was when Kate was here, and it just feels wrong.”
“Is that what you meant when you said you felt relieved? Are you mistaking happiness for relief?”
“I don’t know.” I drop my face into my hands and groan. “I just know that I feel ashamed. Kate was like family to me. She was my best friend for years. I shouldn’t be this happy now that she’s gone.”
“Don’t you think she’d want you to be happy?”
A bitter laugh escapes through my lips. “I don’t know. Kate was always more concerned with her happiness than mine.”
“It sounds like maybe you were, too.”
His words hit home. Sophie used to say that to me all the time. “I did care about her, and I did want her to be happy. But that wasn’t the only reason we stayed friends. Everyone wanted to be around her, and for some reason she chose me. It made me feel special. I wasn’t cool or popular. But when I was with her, I felt like I was.”
“Ross is like that. Mom used to call him ‘her little charmer.’ And he’s always been the cooler and more popular of the two of us. But I have more fun with Mac and John.”
I nod, understanding. It’s how I’ve felt since coming to Oakhollow High. The friends I’ve made this year fit me.
“You know how they say when someone dies, you forget all the bad stuff and only remember the good?” I ask.
“I guess. I’ve never really lost anyone.”
“I feel like since Kate died, I’m only remembering the bad. And I want to just remember the good.”
Reaching out, Archer places his hand over mine. This time I don’t pull it away. “I never really knew my grandpa on my mom’s side. He wasn’t in her life, and when he was, it wasn’t good. When he died, she felt a lot like you do now. I remember her struggling with the feelings she was having. But eventually she was able to grieve the good parts about her dad, and let go of the bad. You will, too.”
It’s the most helpful thing anyone has said to me since Kate’s passing. Not that I can compare Kate to a neglectful dad. But simply knowing that someone else has experienced what I am feeling and gotten through it gives me hope. Lifting my head, I look at Archer, really seeing him for the first time today. I’ve always been attracted to him. He may not think he’s as charming or good-looking as his brother, but he is. But the thing I’ve always liked about Archer is his sincerity. It’s there in his eyes, in his expression, in his mannerisms. With Archer, what you see is what you get. That kind of openness is rare.
He deserves the same thing from the girl he’s with. And I want to be that girl.
I’m done being someone I’m not. That Kassidy is gone. Now I want to be the real me––flaws and all. I want to be the person Archer thinks I am.
He still holds my gaze steadily, and I wonder how long we’ve been sitting in the middle of my bedroom floor staring at each other. His hand gently touches my cheek, and I sigh. Warm fingertips graze my skin, and a delicious shudder ripples through me.
“Thank you for telling me all of this,” he says.
I nod. “I’ve been holding all of it in for so long. My family has been so worried about me, doing everything they can to help me move forward. But I’ve been stuck, you know. It’s like I didn’t know how to get over it. Or maybe I didn’t really want to.” I chomp down on my lower lip. “But when I thought I’d lost you…when I heard Ella say you two were gonna go out…” I pause, shaking my head. “I realized that I was letting my past ruin my chance at a future. And I don’t want that. I want to be with you. I want to be happy.”
“I want that, too.” He keeps his hand pressed to my cheek. It feels warm. It feels good.
“You know what I realized tonight?”
“What’s that?”
“That Kate’s death is a defining moment in my life, but it doesn’t have to define my life in a negative way. It can be the springboard to finding my happiness.”
He smirks, his fingertips tickling my face. “You just figured that out tonight, huh?”
I nod. “With your help.”
“Really?” His smirk turns into a grin. “Well, if there’s anything
else I can help you with, let me know.”
“There is, actually.” Drawing back, I stand. Archer cocks a brow. Reaching out, I take his hand in mine and pull him up beside me. “I’ve been wanting to visit Kate since she died, but I’ve been too afraid. But maybe I won’t be as scared if you’re with me.”
“So, you really didn’t bring me back here for anything other than conversation?” He teases, tugging on bottom of my sleeve.
I laugh. “C’mon.”
…
The last time Kate and I dressed up for Halloween was when we were thirteen. I had tons of ideas for what we could be, but Kate insisted that we dress up like witches. It was better than the year before when she made us buy Disney princess costumes. So, I went along with it.
After trick-or-treating, Kate wanted to take a walk through the cemetery. At first I said no, but then she called me a chicken. In fact, she even flapped her arms and clucked. There was no way I could back out after that.
She stood over the gravestones, making up stories for the dead. Kate was an incredible storyteller, and I found myself getting lost in her words. I even started to enjoy myself, forgetting that we were in a cemetery on Halloween. Instead, I listened as she conjured up an eclectic group of characters I wanted to know more about.
But then some boys jumped out from behind a tree and scared me half to death. I screamed as if I truly thought they were going to kill me. Kate didn’t scare that easily. Fear just made her tougher. She scolded the boys, demanding they leave me alone. They refused to listen, though, and kept running after me.
Kate grabbed my hand and guided me out of the cemetery. She held my hand long after we made it down the street, until we were safely away from the ghosts and the mean boys.
If only she could do that for me now as I stand in the cemetery and stare down at her gravestone. I would give anything for her to hold my hand and usher me out of this place.
As I kneel in the dirt and carefully run my fingertips over her name, I wonder what stories she would tell about herself. Kate was unpredictable. She was the kind of girl who would criticize you one minute and defend you the next. She was kind and caring, but also bossy and mean.
