by Sara Wolf
Avery is crying, too, but silently. She’s afraid she’ll draw Jack’s attention, I’m sure. Ever since that night, she’s always been afraid of him. After what she did, I’m sure Jack wanted to make her life a living hell, but something stopped him. If I had to guess, it was Sophia, calming him down as she always did so expertly.
And now she’s gone.
Jack’s lost a part of himself—anyone can see that. Isis’s brown eyes skitter over to him every so often, lingering on the hard lines of his face, his slack hands at his sides. She looks like she wants to go over and comfort him, but she doesn’t know how. She looks like she’s unsure if she’s even allowed to touch him in his grief.
It’s obvious Isis likes him. And for a while, it was obvious Jack liked her. But now? Whatever the two of them were beginning to feel for each other is over. It has to be. Sophia’s death leveled us all, all the friendships we’d been building, all the relationships. I confronted Jack earlier this month, something like respect blossoming between us again, but I know that’s gone now. I’ve even been pushing Kayla away, embracing fully the gray cloak of sadness around me. Do I even deserve to be happy with someone, after what I did to Sophia? Do any of us?
The priest finishes his prayers, and the pallbearers lower the coffin and begin to shovel dirt on it. Naomi collapses at the pit’s side, wailing and reaching for her. She’d taken care of Sophia for so long—she was the closest thing Sophia had to a mother. Naomi knew better than any of us that Sophia was going to die, but not like this. Not by her own hand, out of despair, or tiredness.
That’s the worst part—that we’ll never know why she did it. There was no note, not a single clue left behind as to why. When Isis and I first saw each other in the graveyard parking lot, she walked over and shook her head.
“I’m sorry, Wren. It’s my fault.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“I should’ve seen the signs.” She clutched her head. “I was the one who hung out with her the most—she told me. She told me she was going to do it in a thousand different ways, but I was too stupid to see them. Too naive. I should’ve known. I should’ve known and I’m sorry. God I’m sorry—”
She started to cry. I offered her a hug, and she took it, clutching at me like I was a lifesaver thrown overboard to a drowning person.
I tried to say “it’ll be okay,” but the words got caught in my throat. There’s a chance things will never be okay again. They’ll never be the same, no matter how much I want them to be.
I watch Sophia as they lower her into the ground and feel a wave of sick heat wash over me. She’s gone, forever. It hits me just then—I’m never going to see her again. I’m never going to get the chance to apologize to her. I spent years working up the courage and failed. I failed her. I betrayed her friendship; all those years spent as kids together, growing up together, all forgotten just because I was afraid of Avery.
Isis starts crying as the last dirt goes on the coffin. Unlike Naomi, she cries completely silently, tears streaming down her face.
Jack doesn’t shed a tear.
After the funeral, my mom picks me up from the graveyard. She leaves me alone, thankfully, not asking a single question. Emotionally exhausted, I collapse into bed.
My phone won’t leave me alone; a text message blares on the screen. It’s from Kayla.
Hey you, it reads. How are you doing?
Tired, I text back. It was awful.
Kayla’s grandmother had fallen down some stairs, and her mother rushed her out to the East Coast to see her, just in case. She’d tried to get out of it to come to Sophia’s funeral and support Isis and me, but her mother had an iron fist—family first, friends second.
I’m sorry, she says. I’ll be home in two days, and then we can talk about it.
Yeah. I’m looking forward to that.
Stay strong! :-) :-) :-) :-)
Somehow, the cartoonish smiley faces make me feel a little better. Kayla in general makes me feel better—something I’ve always known but never told anyone. Since that night at Avery’s party when Avery locked the two of us inside the room, Kayla and I have gotten closer. It started with me trying to calm her down that night, and then grew to walking to class together, bonding over our shared experiences of how horrible Avery was to us. Soon, she was asking me to help her with her math homework, and offered me rides home in exchange.
She’s gorgeous, and much smarter than anyone gives her credit for. She doesn’t have the razor wit of Isis or Jack, and she’s a little naive, but that only makes me like her more.
But I haven’t told her.
I’ve asked her out to prom, and somehow, beyond belief, she said yes. But now? Now I don’t know how to go to prom. I don’t know how to wake up tomorrow. What should I say? What should I do? Do I show my sadness, or hide it away where no one can see? I have to pretend I’m okay, for my family and Kayla. I can’t make them worry more than they already are.
“I’m sorry, Sophia,” I murmur into my pillow, the tears finally coming to me, far too late. Only in the quiet privacy does my numbness wear off. The sorrow grabs at me, deep and aching.
The sun sets, thick clouds lashing rain against my window, as if the world is crying with me.
In the midst of the storm, Kayla texts once more.
I just talked to Isis. I’m worried. Will things be okay? Will you guys ever be okay again?
It takes me a moment to sit up and wipe my eyes enough to see her words. My own hiccups sound so pathetic. But at least I can still cry. At least I’m alive to keep crying. Sophia doesn’t have that luxury anymore.
Whatever she was feeling, killing herself wasn’t the answer. Even if it was what she wanted, it wasn’t what she needed. She needed time. She needed more life, not death. That’s all I know for sure anymore.
I don’t know, I text back finally, my fingers shaking. But I’m going to try.
The next morning, I hike up to Avery’s cabin by Lake Galonagah. Tallie’s cross is right where we left it that night. I haven’t seen it since I was thirteen.
Someone stands in front of the grave, someone wearing a stylish jacket and jeans, her red hair dancing like flames as the wind teases it. It’s her first time up here since that night, too.
I pull air into my lungs and use it like courage. Like iron.
I walk up to the girl, and the grave, for the first time in five years.
“Hello, Tallie,” I say to the cross. Avery is quiet, staring at the little patch of dirt that holds our greatest regret, and then she echoes me softly.
“Hello, Tallie.”
Collect all the books in the Lovely Vicious series
Love Me Never
Discover where Jack and Isis’s relationship first heated up in Love Me Never, available now.
Remember Me Forever
Don’t miss the stunning conclusion to Jack and Isis’s story in Remember Me Forever, coming soon.
Acknowledgments
Thank you to every reader; to you, the one reading this. I know it’s hard, but things will get better if you hold on. I promise.
When I was in high school, my sister’s boyfriend was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor. They gave him five months to live, and it was the roughest five months I can remember in my life—for my family, for my sister, and especially for him. We saw him go through so much pain. It was nothing like the movies and books told us—tragic but somehow enlightening/heartwarming in its tragedy. It was just sad. Sad and difficult.
This book is, in some ways, for him.
There is no romance in death, or suicide. If you’re in that low place, please, please call your friends and family. If you can’t bear to talk to them, please call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline (1-800-273-8255). A majority of them have been through the same thing and can help you when it feels like no one else can. You are valued; you are loved.
Thank you to Stacy Abrams, Lydia Sharp, and the entire Entangled/Macmillan team for being flawless
human beings willing to put up with my every typo and melodramatic nonsense.
A special thank-you to Andrew, a wonderful writer who constantly inspires me to work harder and be better. Thank you to the entire NK Beach Party gaming circle in general—you guys have kept me sane in the midst of revisions/my hectic life. I promise to suck less this season. :-)
And lastly, thank you to Jack and Isis, Wren and Kayla, Avery and Sophia, for growing up so fast, and so well.
It’ll be all right.
About the Author
Sara Wolf lives in San Diego, California, where she burns instead of tans. When she isn’t pouring her allotted lifeforce into writing, she’s reading, accidentally burning houses down whilst baking, or making faces at her highly appreciative cat. Her writing journey began when she scribbled Pokemon fanfiction in a journal when she was twelve, and she’s still unconvinced she’s improved much since. As Sara Wolf, she’s written young adult contemporary, sci-fi, and new adult romance. Under her real name, Michelle Painchaud, she’s written young adult thriller.
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