by C. C. Hunter
“You can’t leave me.”
“Riley, I’m sorry, but I . . . I can’t do this.” He pops out of the bed.
“You’re scared. I get that.” I follow him.
His blue eyes meet mine. “I can’t . . . I don’t want to be the guy who can’t walk, or talk, or has half a brain. I can’t do it.”
“You don’t know it’s going to turn out like that. You just need to wake up!” I reach for his hands. “Then you’ll get better.
He pulls away. “That’s not what the doctors think, Riley.”
“But Hayden—”
“No.” His voice shakes. “If you love me you’ll understand.”
“What I understand is that you’re scared. And so instead of sticking it out, you want to quit. There’s no reason that you can’t get better. In fact, there’s no reason you haven’t woken up except that . . . you’re scared. And I get that, but—”
“You’re right, I’m scared. Scared of what my life will be like. I don’t want it, Riley.”
“So you have no desire to fight for us. To give us a chance. None. You’re just going to leave me!”
“That’s not fair. I’d love nothing more than to wake up and be your boyfriend. You are the best thing that ever happened to me. But the chances of me even being able to feed myself are slim.”
“But you don’t know it’ll be like that, Hayden. There’s no reason for you not to try. No reason for you to die when you can live.”
He puts a hand on each of my shoulders. “There is a reason.”
“No, there’s not.”
“Yes, there is, Riley.”
“Not one besides you being afraid?”
He leans in and puts his forehead against mine. “There’s a reason.”
“What? Tell me one good reason!”
With the pads of his thumbs, he brushes off the tears from my cheeks. “I have AB blood. The same kind of blood as Annie. She wouldn’t just get part of my liver. She could the whole thing.”
Air catches in my throat. Tears fill my eyes. “No, Hayden. I love Annie and I want her to live, but I’m hanging posters. I’m trying to save her. There’s still a chance . . .” My voice shakes. “Both of you can live.”
“I can help her, Riley.”
I hear it in his voice. His mind is made up. I don’t know what to say to stop him. And then I realize there’s one thing I can use. His love. Because I know he loves me.
“No! You can’t give up! I swear to God, Hayden, if you do this, I’ll hate you for it. And I’ll follow in your footsteps. If you don’t value your own life, then why should I value my own? I’ll stop being careful. I’ll meet gangsters. I’ll chase down rapists. I’ll do it because if the boy I love didn’t value his life enough to fight for it, then why should I?”
“You won’t do that.” His words sound like barbwire, sharp and pointy.
“Yes, I will, Hayden. I’ll do it out of spite! I swear I will. Because everything in my gut says this is wrong. That if you fight, it’ll work out. I believe that. I really believe that. I don’t believe you were sent to me so I could help you die.”
“Maybe I was sent to you to help someone else live. Annie.”
“No! That’s not it! And if you don’t want me doing stupid—”
“Damn it, Riley! Don’t you see? I don’t want my mom to change my diapers anymore. Can’t you understand? I love you, but I just can’t do it!”
He disappears. I drop down on my bed, grab a pillow, and sob. He’s going to leave me. Just like Mom left me. And I’m never going to get over it.
Chapter Nineteen
Two hours later, I’m still hugging the life out of my pillow. My phone dings with a text. I pick it up and see it’s Dad wishing me a good day. It’s not going to be a good day. My gut still says Hayden is wrong, but there’s this tiny, very little piece of doubt. What if he’s right? What if what I was supposed to do was fix it so Annie would live? But I still hate it.
I. Hate. It.
Then I wonder if Hayden will die today. I remember Mr. Burstein’s passing. It was so fast. Painless. It felt like the right thing for him, but this feels different. He had lived his life. Hayden is so young. He’s my soulmate. Mr. Burstein was leaving to be with his soulmate. And I feel as if someone is surgically removing that part that was Hayden. But oh, God, it hurts.
After a few more minutes crying on the pillow, I realize the time. I’m supposed to pick up Kelsey in fifteen minutes.
Crap!
I force myself to get out of bed. I go brush my teeth. My reflection stares back at me. My eyes are red, puffy. My hair’s a mess. I don’t have the energy to worry about how I look. I don’t have the energy to go to school.
So damn it, I’m not going. But realizing it’s too late for Kelsey to get someone else to give her a ride to school, I decide to pick her up and drop her off. I pull on a pair of sweats and tennis shoes and head out. My eyes feel gritty. My throat feels gritty. My heart feels gritty.
I pull in front of Kelsey’s and text her. She comes barreling out, wearing black, her favorite non-color, her backpack hanging off one shoulder. Looking tons more optimistic than she sounded last night, she climbs into the car.
Her gaze settles on me, and her eyes round. “Shit. What’s wrong?”
I knew she was going to ask, and I have a plan. My go-to plan of late.
Lie. I’m fine. Just couldn’t sleep. Still have PMS. But the tears threatening to fill my eyes aren’t going to make that lie convincing.
“Talk to me,” Kelsey says.
I can’t tell her about Hayden. But there’s a lot of stuff I can tell her, so I spill. I tell her about finding the bottles of alcohol in Dad’s office, I tell her about the paintings. And finding Sam’s Art Gallery in New Springs. I pull up the website on my phone and show it to her.
She stares at the picture of Sam. I point out the painting in the background. She keeps staring, then she hands me my phone, but she doesn’t say anything. The silence seems awkward, intentional, too loud. What is she not saying?
I face her. “What?”
“I . . . I’m not sure you want to hear this.”
“Hear what?”
“I’ve always thought . . . I mean, you said you looked like your mom, but . . .”
“What?”
“You don’t look like your dad. But you do look like . . .” She glances back at my phone. “Like that guy.”
“Whoa!” I say. “No. That’s not possible. My dad is . . . my dad. He told me we both have O blood.”
“Yeah.” She nods with a little too much enthusiasm. “I’m just saying that—”
“Well, don’t say it!” Emotion bubbles up inside me. Yeah, I’m already making some pretty crazy assumptions, but not that crazy. But then I remember Dad’s refusal to talk about Mom. The feeling that there’s a boatload of secrets he’s holding in. I remember Mom was pregnant when they got married. Could she have been carrying someone else’s . . . Shit. Crap. Shitcrap. Shitcrap.
Kelsey frowns. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that. But why don’t we skip school and take a drive to New Springs? We’ll ask him about knowing your mom.”
It takes me a minute to get my emotions in check, and another to accept that my anger aimed at Kelsey is totally misdirected. I’m angry at Hayden. At Dad for his drinking and all his lies. At Mom for dying. At life for making Annie sick and taking Mr. Brooks away before he could help her.
I swallow a lump of pain and force myself to answer. “The gallery is only open on the weekends.”
“Okay, then this weekend we’re going there. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”
And just like that, something shifts inside of me. I’m not so sure I want to get to the bottom of this. What if I hate what I learn? Even confirming Mom was having an affair would hurt like hell. And with my Hayden hurt, I’m not sure I can deal with it.
“Are things better with your mom?” I ask.
“No. Before she left for work
she said she’s still weighing her options.” Kelsey reaches over and squeezes my arm. “Let’s not go to school. Let’s go drown our sorrows in pancakes and maple syrup.”
“You thought I was going to school looking like this?”
“Are you kidding? You’re styling. Grunge looks good on you. I mean, the toothpaste dribble on your chin is a really nice touch.”
I rub my chin and actually feel the crusty spot. Then I laugh. She stares at me, and I laugh harder. Finally, she joins in. We laugh a good three minutes. When one of us almost stops, we look at the other and it starts again. I don’t know what we’re really laughing at anymore, but it’s like a shot of Novocain and everything inside me that hurts, hurts less. It’s a reminder that no matter how sucky my life gets, I can’t throw in the towel. Why can’t I get Hayden to see that? The Novocain is wearing off.
I start the car. “Who makes the best pancakes? I want a double stack with extra bacon.”
“Wow, you’re living dangerously.”
“Yeah, I am.” And I remember my threat to Hayden.
• • •
It’s almost one p.m. when I drop Kelsey back off at her house. I drive back home. I run upstairs to change my clothes and comb my hair. I can’t give up. I have to talk to Hayden again. I’m getting in my car when a text dings.
I pull my phone out of my back pocket. It’s from Mrs. Carter. I read the words, and tears fill my eyes. I know you’re in school, but come here when you can.
Tears fill my eyes. “No!” I scream and hit the steering wheel. Does this mean Hayden is dead? My insides feel crowded out by the pain almost too large to fit. My lungs feel smashed. My throat knots. My heart pounds as if beating is too difficult.
I drive straight to the hospital. When I’m walking through the lobby I hear someone call my name. I look over. It’s Annie’s father, Mr. Nobles.
“You heard?” he asks, and his happy tone tells me it happened. Hayden must be gone, and the hospital discovered they both have AB blood. I know it’s what he wanted. But it hurts so damn bad. “Annie is getting a part of a liver.”
My stomach cramps.
“It’s amazing,” he says. “What were the chances?”
I have to dig deep, really really deep to force a smile. But with the smile comes tears. I’ve lost Hayden.
“We didn’t even know he had a brother,” Mr. Nobles continues.
His words rumble around my head, then my heart. “His . . . brother?”
“Yeah. Annie’s biological father. The one who was going to donate part of his liver. He had a brother, and he showed up yesterday and agreed to be tested. He said he knew his brother wanted him to do this. The results came in this morning. He’s a match, and they’re doing the surgery this afternoon.” He hugs me. “I know Annie will want to see you if you have a minute.”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Thank you.” I hear the words as I walk to the elevator. When I look over I see it’s Mr. Brooks. “I’m staying with Annie, but I’ll come to say goodbye before I go.”
I smile at him, but the smile takes effort because my heart feels broken. On the ride up, I get nauseous. Would Hayden have reconsidered if he knew Annie was going to be okay? Then I remember the text from Mrs. Carter. She didn’t say Hayden was gone, but she wouldn’t want to do that in a text. Oh, God, did he die in vain?
The elevator doors open. I’m scared to walk out. Scared to learn that Hayden’s gone. When the doors begin to close, I start out.
It’s visiting hours, so I walk right through the ICU doors and past a woman wearing a wedding gown. Obviously, she’s the same one I saw in my house earlier. Her cold reaches out to me like icy fingers.
“We can help each other.”
Her words follow me as I rush past.
“You’re going to want to talk to me!”
I keep walking.
I’m in no emotional place to deal with anything else. The doors swish closed. The first thing I see is Mrs. Carter. She’s hugging one of the nurses, and I hear the sound of her tears. My eyes go damp.
Their hug ends, and she sees me. “Riley?”
She rushes over. Her arms come around me. I feel empty. I want to drop to the floor and just sob. Then she pulls back. Her eyes meet mine, and I’m confused by her expression. She’s smiling.
“It was crazy,” she says. “He just woke up. They took the tube out about two hours ago. He spoke to me, Riley. He actually spoke to me.”
I pull in a big gulp of air, it tastes so sweet. My chest feels open, warm.
“He’s okay?” An emotional sound leaves my lips.
“They’ve run tests. The doctors are in there now doing some final assessments.”
Hayden’s door opens, and a doctor steps out. It’s the same doctor I met the other day. She stops in front of us.
“It’s the closest thing to a miracle that I’ve ever seen,” she says. “I’m not saying he doesn’t need physical therapy, but he appears to have all muscle function. He’s talking, answering questions. I’ve never seen anyone come out of a coma after three months and be in such good shape.”
Mrs. Carter makes a sound of pure joy, the same one I’m feeling on the inside, and she hugs her. A few seconds later, she asks, “Can we go see him now?”
“Dr. Walker is finishing up the exam. It should just be a few more minutes.” She smiles. “You never gave up on him,” the doctor says. “Your devotion and your faith inspired me.”
In a few minutes, the other doctor walks out. He hugs Mrs. Carter, too. Then we walk in. Hayden is sitting up. He’s thin, he looks weak, his hair’s a mess, but he smiles.
Mrs. Carter runs over and hugs him. I stand back and wait my turn. When she shifts away from the side of the bed, I move in. I take his hand and squeeze. I want to kiss him, but that’ll have to wait until we’re alone. I want to tell him I told him so, but that’ll have to wait, too.
“I knew you’d be okay.” My throat tightens with emotion.
He offers me a not-so-bright smile. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice raspy and raw. “But am I supposed to know you?” His gaze shifts to his mom with concern. “Am I . . . forgetting something?”
“Oh, hon. It’s Riley. Riley Smith. You knew her at camp. You asked her to dance then you tripped her. Don’t you remember?”
He nods, continues to stare, then shakes his head. “I do . . . remember that. But . . . I don’t remember her.”
Right then the door opens and Jacob and Brandy rush in.
Hayden’s eyes light up.
“Damn you scared us!” Jacob moves over to the bed.
Hayden smiles at his best friend. Then his gaze and smile shift to Brandy. She moves over. Hayden reaches for her hand.
“Were you worried about me?” Even with his scratchy throat, the flirt in his voice can be heard. I know because I’ve heard it so often.
“You know I was.” She leans down and kisses him. Kisses him the way I wanted to kiss him. Well, not exactly the same way. I’d put much more emotion into it.
A nurse walks in. “He shouldn’t have too much company. He needs rest.”
“I’ll leave.” I take one step back. Hayden’s gaze shifts to me, and for one second I think he might recognize me, but then his focus moves back to Brandy.
“I’ll see you later,” I say.
“Yeah,” he says.
I walk out of Hayden’s room.
“Riley?” I turn, and Mrs. Carter is there. She comes running over and hugs me. “I’m sorry. I . . . I guess I should have mentioned he has a girlfriend.”
“No. It’s fine. I kind of even knew it.”
“I can’t tell you how much you being here has meant to me.”
“I know. I need to run.” Knowing I’m about to break down, I practically sprint to the elevator.
My chest’s so tight I’m sure I’ve cracked a rib. Why didn’t I realize he might not remember me? Why didn’t I realize he might still feel a connection to Brandy?
He’s alive.
He looks like he’s going to be fine. I should be happy. I am happy. I go to brush a tear off my cheek, but it’s frozen to my face.
“Are you crying about a boy?” The voice hits at the same time the cold does. “They always hurt you. Never trust them.”
I see the woman standing in front of me. The dead bride has returned. The back of her wedding dress comes down in a low V, and the dress itself is all lace and embroidery with tiny pearls. The train, made of delicate lace, swirls around her feet. My feet. It covers the entire elevator floor as if it’s a living, breathing thing.
She turns around. My gaze zeroes in on the knife sticking out of her chest. “I hear you are looking for your mother. I can help you. I know where she is. And believe me when I say there’s a lot about her that you don’t know. But before I tell you anything, you have promise me you’ll help me.”
Excerpt from In Another Life
Keep reading for a sneak peek at C.C.’s new contemporary young adult novel,
In Another Life,
coming in hardcover from Wednesday Books on March 26, 2019,
and available now for pre-order!

What would you do if your whole life turned out to be a lie, but uncovering the truth could get you killed?
From the New York Times bestselling author of the Shadow Falls series comes C. C. Hunter’s new YA thriller about a girl who discovers her face on a “Missing Child” poster. Was she kidnapped as a child? Were her adoptive parents behind it?
Chloe was three years old when she joined the idyllic, happy Holden family. Now, fourteen years later, her parents’ marriage has fallen apart. Everything Chloe loved about her life is gone, and to make matters worse, being back in her mom’s old hometown of Joyful, Texas, stirs up haunting feelings of déjà vu.
When Chloe meets Cash Colton she’s drawn to him, as though they’re kindred spirits. Until Cash tells her the real reason he sought her out: Chloe looks exactly like the daughter his foster parents lost years ago, the daughter they still grieve, and he’s determined to find out the truth.
