Frayed

by Kara Terzis

  My phone rang twice, three times, but I didn’t pick it up.

  The morning melted into afternoon, both of which I spent lying on my bed. My brain refused to be silenced, even just for a minute, and the tears that leaked from my eyes couldn’t be stemmed.

  Of course Jackson had gone for Lia. Who wouldn’t?

  It wasn’t her sister who had been murdered; it wasn’t her parents who had died; it wasn’t her left cheek that was scarred beyond repair. She was the epitome of perfection, while I was filled with darkness.

  There was a knock at the front door. Jackson? Maybe. I didn’t answer, and after a while, whoever it was gave up and left me in peace.

  I stumbled out of bed and made my way to the bathroom, bracing myself on the sink. The mirror took up most of the opposite wall. It was wide and vast, reflecting everything from the shower doors behind me to the windows, where white light was shimmering through the opaque panes of glass.

  And there I was.

  Just Ava.

  Nothing special, nothing more than a girl with caramel-blond hair and mud-brown eyes. Lia could have been a runway model if she chose. She had the body. The hair. The long legs. But not me. Never me. I wiped a lone tear from my eye, staring blankly at my reflection. So what was to become of me in a few years? I’d fade from sight like a ghost, that person who was too afraid to step out of her sister’s shadow.

  I didn’t want to be that person.

  I didn’t want to be one of those weak, fragile girls who tore themselves to pieces after a relationship ended badly. In the weeks since Kesley had died, everything had been taken away from me: my sister’s memory, my boyfriend, and the girl who I thought was my friend. I didn’t want to drown in sorrow. I didn’t want to be powerless any longer. Because if karma truly existed, none of this would have happened.

  It wasn’t time to be sad anymore, to grieve. I was long past that. Anger began to coil tightly in my stomach like a rope. I clenched my hands along the curved edge of the basin, my knuckles turning white, my heart pounding, my head bowed.

  And then…

  “Ava?”

  I looked up. Blue eyes stared back at me in the mirror, and I turned to face Rafe, even though I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. I felt breathless, winded. I didn’t need to say anything for him to realize something was wrong. “What happened?” he asked.

  Absentmindedly, I touched my cheek. Tears still clung there, but my eyes were dry.

  Finally, I spoke. “He cheated on me again, Rafe.” There was a beat of silence. And then he pulled me into his arms, my cheek against his chest.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice rough. “God, I’m so sorry.”

  I heard—felt—his heartbeat against my ear. What seemed to simultaneously be an eternity and no time at all passed us by. I said nothing, and he said nothing. Neither of us needed to.

  I was the one to pull away and answer the question he was too careful to ask.

  “Lia,” I said softly. “It was Lia.” His eyes closed briefly, but before he had the chance to say anything, I whispered, “How did you know I was home?”

  “I didn’t,” he said, “not at first. But when you weren’t answering any of my calls, I thought I should check on you.” His gaze, strong and sure, held mine. A small but sad smile crossed his face. “And I’m glad I did. Actually, I came here to show you something.”

  • • •

  Five minutes later, I found myself in front of the house and staring at the shiny black motorcycle Rafe was headed for. “No way,” I said, stopping dead. Rafe shot an amused expression over his shoulder, and I could tell he was trying not to roll his eyes.

  “Scared?” he asked.

  “Well, yes.”

  He reached the death trap and unhooked an extra black helmet from it, throwing it in my direction.

  I caught it. Barely.

  “C’mon, you only live once, Ava. Besides, Kesley used to love it.”

  A hysterical sort of laughter escaped my lips. “No way! She would never have!”

  “Oh yeah, she did. She liked the speed, you know? Said it was like flying.”

  I swallowed, a lump forming in my throat. If I closed my eyes and thought about it, I could almost picture it. I eyed the motorcycle hesitantly.

  Seeing my discomfort, Rafe came closer. “Do you trust me?”

  I sighed. “Despite everything, yeah. Yeah, I do.”

  I shut my eyes for a moment, then opened them. I’d told myself I would be stronger, less afraid of things, so this was a good step, right? I squared my shoulders and let Rafe help me tighten the strap appropriately and pull me onto the back of the motorcycle, trying very hard to not show I was shaking.

  “Hold on tight,” I heard him murmur before he revved the engine. Loudly. I pulled my arms around his waist, feeling the muscles there ripple as he switched the bike’s gears. I pressed my face into his back, hoping he wouldn’t notice as the tires screamed against the road.

  I felt the wind rushing past me, tearing at my hair.

  I literally had no idea where we were going. I refused to move my face from his back, so all I saw was darkness. I was terrified that if I moved an inch, I’d fall off the back. All I felt were the swerves of the bike. It was hard to tell, but he seemed to be driving up, up, up—the air growing colder around us—until he cut off the engine and blissful silence fell once more.

  I drew in a deep breath. “We’re here?”

  “You’re alive, aren’t you?”

  “Just,” I said with a faint smile, pulling my cheek off his back.

  I pulled off the helmet and glanced around, running my fingers through my hair, which was messy from the wind. I got off the bike. The mountains stretched out in the distance, capped with gleaming snow, and frost lay on the ground. A chain-link fence surrounded the edge of the lookout with a WARNING sign for the people who didn’t see the impending cliff edge coming. A blanket of gold, brown, and green trees was spread out before me, covering the dip between the two mountains.

  A valley.

  My fingers itched to paint the scene before me. Picture-perfect. The dips and curves of the mountains, the challenge of mixing colors to find the perfect shades of gold and red for the sky. My stomach filled with ice as I thought of what had happened the last time I painted, and I pushed the idea from my mind.

  A bench with green paint flaking off its surface rested in front of the view. I got off the motorcycle and walked toward the bench without thinking, gravel and frost crunching underfoot. Rafe joined me a moment later.

  “Did you bring Kesley here?” I asked, knitting my fingers together for warmth. As much as I tried to avoid talking about her, I couldn’t seem to help it. She was like a circle; she had no ending, and everything led right back to her.

  “No,” said Rafe softly, “I never did. We just…never seemed to have the time.” This place seemed to have that effect on people, the desire to speak quietly, even though there was nobody in sight.

  “Had the time?”

  Rafe smiled ruefully. “She was a busy girl.”

  When I spoke, my voice was bitter. “Yeah. I guess living a double life doesn’t give you much free time.”

  Rafe met my gaze, frowning. “She never lived a double life. She was just…” He trailed off.

  “Just what?”

  He sighed, shaking his head. “She was just Kesley,” he said, as if that explained anything. And I guess in a way, that did mean something.

  I just wasn’t sure what yet.

  Neither of us spoke for a few minutes, but that was one of the best things about Rafe. We didn’t need to talk, to make meaningless chatter. It wasn’t like with Lia, who talked and talked and talked without hardly breathing. For Lia, every silence was a moment wasted.

  Lia. Her betrayal stung, and I couldn’t seem to let it go, no matter
how hard I tried to shake it off.

  A warm hand touched my forearm, and I was brought out of my thoughts.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Rafe asked. His blue eyes were so sincere that seeing them made my heart ache. I looked at my intertwined hands, silent for a moment.

  “I don’t know,” I said, sighing. “I guess so. I just don’t know what there is to talk about. He’s cheated on me. Twice now. Once with my sister, and another time with my best friend…” I trailed off, my mouth quirking into a humorless smile. “Maybe I just have bad taste in boys.”

  “Maybe you should consider that he’s not the right guy for you,” Rafe said.

  “Yes, the thought did cross my mind,” I said a little dryly.

  Rafe laughed, then said, “I brought you here so you could get away from that for a bit. Maybe it’s not forever, but it’s still something.”

  “Thank you.” Tears stung my eyes.

  Rafe leaned his elbows on his knees, staring out across the view. His eyes were narrowed against the orange glare of the sun. “I never did tell you the whole story,” he said moments later.

  I stared blankly at him. “About what?”

  “About why I never went to the funeral.”

  I shrugged. “You were upset. I told you that was okay, and I meant it.” But I didn’t look at him as I said it, instead staring toward the horizon where the canopy of golden trees melted into the sky. It was growing darker now, and faint pinpricks of light were becoming visible. Stars.

  “I was in juvie again,” he finally said.

  This news didn’t entirely surprise me. I bit back a sarcastic comment and instead said, “For what this time?”

  Dying rays of light fell across Rafe’s hair, highlighting the lighter parts with strands of gold. He refused to meet my eyes. “Kesley wanted a gun, so I got her one. And I got caught. That, combined with previous offenses…” He breathed out a sigh.

  A cold, heavy something settled in the pit of my stomach. “A gun? You mean…because she said someone was after her?”

  “I think so.”

  “Please, Rafe,” I said, my voice edging on begging, “I know you think you can’t trust me, but if you told me who she thought—”

  “I don’t know,” he said, his jaw tightening. “And what makes you think I don’t trust you?”

  I sighed and leaned back. How many times had I gone over this in my head, hoping that some of it might suddenly become clearer? More times than I could count. I said, “I feel like…like Kesley couldn’t trust me. Like I was this naive younger sister who wasn’t old enough to understand anything important.”

  I felt his hand touch mine. “Ava, I would trust you with my life. I don’t know why Kesley kept the things from you that she did. I really don’t, but I also know that if I knew anything more about her death, I’d tell you.” Rafe sighed and ran a hand through his hair, as if it wasn’t mussed up enough from the wind on the ride up here. “Things are so screwed up, aren’t they?”

  I laughed. Yeah, that was one way of putting it.

  I glanced up at Rafe, who was watching me with a faint smile.

  My memory flickered back to that moment in the park when I’d been so close… I saw the blue of his eyes, the way his long eyelashes cast lines of shadow across his cheekbones. But I’d been with Jackson then. It had felt wrong, like I’d been the one doing something out of line. That was when it hit me: I was single now. There was no looming prospect of Jackson on the horizon, no point in fighting the feelings toward Rafe that scraped at my insides, longing to be out in the open.

  I didn’t realize I was inching closer to Rafe until I felt his breath caress my face.

  We were touching now, his hand still resting on my forearm. Without thinking, without even considering the consequences, I curled my hand around the back of his neck and leaned in to him. I felt his hand snake around my waist, resting in the small of my back.

  Just as my lips were about to touch his, Rafe murmured, “Wait, Ava…”

  My eyes opened. When had I closed them? Rejection crashed into me with the force of a truck, leaving me breathless. Tears sprung into my eyes, and I pulled away at once.

  “Sorry,” I whispered, my voice cracking. I let a curtain of hair fall across my shoulder so he couldn’t see my expression or those stupid tears in my eyes. Maybe I had seriously misread the signs here. Maybe, once more, I had read too much into things. Tension curled thick in the air, and for a moment, neither of us said anything.

  “Ava…”

  “It’s all right,” I said finally, my voice oddly calm. “It’s fine, I swear. If you don’t feel the same, then it’s fine.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” he said gently. “Not at all.”

  I breathed in the cold air, hardly noticing that the last rays of light were beginning to fade, the sky turning into streaks of navy blue and purple and red. He raised a hand to touch my face, and when I looked down, abashed, he tilted my chin upward, forcing me to look at him.

  “You just found out your boyfriend cheated on you with your best friend.”

  “I don’t need reminding of that,” I muttered.

  “My point is that you’re confused.”

  “I’m not confused,” I said firmly, determined to sound cold.

  “You’re confused,” he repeated, “and you’re angry. All you can think of is that your boyfriend cheated on you. If you want to kiss me another time, then I’m not going to stop you. Just not now.” The sad smile remained, so soft I couldn’t bear to look at him. He felt sorry for me. And I was so, so sick of people feeling sorry for me. I didn’t want his pity.

  Minutes passed in tense silence. When I looked back at Rafe and the embarrassment had cooled down to shame, I knew he had a point. He didn’t want to kiss me like this. And if I were being honest with myself, I knew he was right. Completely right. I hadn’t wanted to kiss him like I had that time in the woods. This time, something within me had felt different. A burning, jealous feeling had spurred me on. That wasn’t me.

  Rafe took my hand in his and pulled me to his side. He didn’t speak, just let the silence we knew so well roll over us. I rested my head on his shoulder, staring out over the valley. Eventually, he would take me back down to Circling Pines, and I would have to face reality once more. Running away from my problems was pointless, even though every particle in me wished I could.

  It was hard to recognize such beauty when I was so miserable. And yet, the glistening valley stretched out before us, the colors deepening, becoming hard to see. The sun dipped even lower, the stars becoming more defined, and I realized this peace wasn’t going to last forever. Because I knew that even the most beautiful flower would wither and eventually die.

  I sighed, barely audible, and we sat side by side like that for the rest of the evening.

  It’s hard to be bad if you care too much about the consequences. Every single decision we make holds a consequence. Like the night I tried to kiss Rafe. Looking back, I’m glad Rafe didn’t let it happen then. Jackson’s betrayal was too fresh for me to understand what that kiss would have meant.

  The rest of that night was nice. Peaceful even. Although those days, “peaceful” was a relative term, because those dark, terrible memories were always lingering just below the surface.

  You know, Kesley, I still remember the day they told us you were dead.

  Dead. Gone. It was late afternoon, just as the sun was beginning its descent. Just before the policemen knocked at the door, I was the happiest girl in the world. Can you believe that? Just before my life came thundering down, I had actually been happy. That was all Jackson’s doing, of course. Before things went so horribly downhill, everything seemed perfect. Pristine. He had been over that day, and the blossoming red flowers he’d given me sat in a vase on the table, catching the last rays of light streaming through the windows.

&nb
sp; Then came the knock at the door.

  At first, I didn’t think much of it. It was just a neighbor, maybe the old lady from across the road who wanted some company. But something didn’t seem quite right. It wasn’t a woman speaking. The voice was masculine, deep and full of sadness.

  I remember standing at the end of the corridor, listening. Hushed tones and whispers. I couldn’t see much, but the policeman’s badge caught the light, winking at me as if beckoning me forward. And I remember this…feeling rising up inside me. I couldn’t place it then, but I can now. Fear. My breath caught in my throat, and I grew light-headed. My heartbeat thrummed in my ears as all the blood rushed to my face. It’s nothing, I told myself over and over again. It’s nothing, it’s nothing, it’s nothing. But the last time I’d seen you was the previous night. When you didn’t come back, we filed a missing persons report. The police had asked us where, if anywhere, you might have been. I looked up at the officer and said, voice trembling, “She loved Lake O’Hara. Maybe she’s there.”

  I wish I’d been wrong.

  And that was when our mother started to cry, and my breathing froze, and I realized it wasn’t just “nothing.” I think one of the policemen noticed me standing motionless at the end of the corridor because I remember him saying my name, though I didn’t know how he knew it. I never had a chance to ask.

  In his hand was a blue ribbon. Remember that one?

  But this time, it wasn’t like I remembered. It frayed at the edges, dirt covering its glossy layer. It had been split in two, and it was curled and stiff. As if it had been soaked through with water and then left out in the sun to dry.

  Everything after that turned into a blur of emotion, colors, and sounds. It all blended so seamlessly together over those past few weeks that it was hard to tell each day apart. But I did remember the loneliness. The sitting in the dark every night waiting, just waiting. I don’t know what I was waiting for; I knew you were dead. But some part of me hoped they were wrong. That you would stroll through the door any moment and proclaim it all a joke.

  You never did…