by Lindsey Iler
I catch Violet’s stare. “I don’t think it’s something you can forget,” I answer honestly.
“No, sweetie, I don’t believe it is.” Violet grabs the clenched fist resting on my lap.
Dan swings his head over the side of the railing, scanning the room until his gaze lands on Violet.
“I need you, Vi,” he shouts through cupped hands to amplify the reach of his voice.
Violet rolls her eyes but jumps off the stool and saunters toward the stairs. Next comes a loud crash, drawing everyone’s attention to the noise.
Mark rushes down to the kitchen, where he flings cabinet doors open until he finds a bottle of Tylenol. Then he snatches a bottle of water from under the island and races out again. When he reaches my side, he freezes me with his gaze. The power in his stare leaves me squirming under his somewhat uncomfortable scrutiny.
“Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back,” Mark says before taking two steps at a time to get up the stairs.
The two of us have never had a real conversation. When Graham and I dated, Mark kept a safe distance, engaging in conversation when necessary, but otherwise, nothing.
I wander outside to get some fresh air. Okay, that’s a lie. I’m hiding away in typical Kennedy Conrad fashion. I assess the situation and turn back to the house to see the deck illuminated by the light from the kitchen. The backyard is empty except for a small group of girls giggling in the corner. They turn and leer at me. I nod, understanding I’ll need to get used to their reaction.
All night I feel eyes on me. Everyone’s kept their distance, but I see them peeking around corners and gawking. Most of those who dare to look my way are underclassmen, and their information about what happened has come from the local news and social media.
This fucking sucks.
I rest my back against the railing to peer up at the clear sky. My heavy eyelids shutter closed from the pressure of being here tonight. The remarkable, almost enchanting night skies are the best part of Tennessee. They transform from the lightest of blues to the darkest of navies. The stars shine like a million pairs of eyes, guarding everyone as we travel through life with no real destination or idea about we’re supposed to be going. We’re a bunch of ignorant assholes who wander around, just winging it. My eyes flutter open to catch a shooting star dancing across the sky and I smile.
“You look like you’re deep in thought,” a deep voice startles me. Mark slouches against the railing, a smile plastered on his face. “Care to explain what’s got you literally staring off into space?”
I laugh, mostly out of discomfort, but a part of me finds his humor endearing and non-threatening. “Do you ever wonder what the hell we’re doing here?” I’m not sure if he’s the best person to share the unanswered questions of the world with, but he may be able to tell me something helpful.
Mark stares at me, scans his eyes to the sky, and then back at me. He ponders my question as if his answer is the most important thing he will say in his lifetime.
“I think everyone has a purpose in life, Kennedy. Some of us figure it out sooner than others, and sometimes our purpose is pushed off kilter because of someone else’s choices and actions.” A genuine smile passes over his mouth. “I hope I’m not overstepping, but what Craig did to you has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with him. Don’t let one asshole in this world derail you from becoming who you’re supposed to become.”
“I wish I could pretend it never happened, you know? It’s hard to forget it when everyone is always looking at me like I’m on display.” I march toward the house. “Craig was friends with all of you.”
“Now, wait a second, Ken.” His fingertips skim over my elbow to gain my attention. I flinch and retreat from the contact. Mark jumps back a step. Some sort of apology dances in his soft eyes and he takes another step back to give me the distance I need. I follow his lead and slide down the rail until the light from the patio door washes over me. “Craig may have been our friend, but that in no way means we condone what he did to you. He had all of us fooled. No one had any clue Craig was hiding the monster he became with you.
“People are going to look at you, Kennedy, for many different reasons. Because of what happened, half of them aren’t sure how to approach you. The girls can’t fathom going through what you did with a guy most of them have slept with. The guys are afraid of what Graham will do if they even breathe the same air as you.”
“Graham and I are done.” I wince as the words break from my lips. Even I can hear the doubt in my voice, and from the way Mark tilts his head to the side, I’d say he doesn’t believe me either.
“Sure you are,” Mark mutters under his breath, a laugh lighting his handsome face.
My eyes have always been on Graham, not his best friend, so I’ve never stopped to appreciate how wildly good-looking Mark is. Mark has that smoldering thing going on. His hair is a bit longer on top but falls in a perfect, dusty blond mess. Bright, blue eyes smolder under the light of the moon. He looks at me as if he could get me to do anything he wants. Everything about him screams bad idea, but he’s sweet enough to pique any female’s interest. The devilish grin lets a girl know he could ruin her.
“We don’t really know each other,” Mark says, matter-of-fact like.
“No, I guess we don’t.”
“We should change that.”
The sincerity in his eyes surprises me.
Moments ago, I said the words ‘Graham and I are done’, but another guy showing me attention makes me realize we are, in fact, over for good. Graham and Kennedy are no more. We’re two separate people now. We know everything about each other, every secret, every dream, but we’re strangers. I’ve spent most of my summer worrying about Graham, whether he’s taking care of himself, or if his Dad’s in town to wreak havoc on him.
I head into the house but turn when Mark follows. “I thought you said everyone was afraid to breathe the same air as me because of Graham,” I say, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, Kennedy, unlike everyone else, I’m not afraid of Graham,” he answers, flashing a wink.
“That was smooth. Nice work.” I turn to walk through the kitchen.
“Wait, we can’t get to know each other if you run away from me.” Mark’s voice flows with his determination.
“I’m not running away. I’m going to grab a bottle of water, and then we’re going to sit down and talk.”
Mark bites the inside of his cheek while contemplating what I said. He slings an arm around me, pulling me close to his side. His tight abs vibrate against my ribs when he laughs.
My heart races from the contact. Because he’s familiar or because his cologne entices me, I don’t know, but I ignore my uneasiness, forcing it to the farthest part of my mind. Once again, I push the boundaries of what makes me uncomfortable, something necessary for me to heal.
Mark ushers me to the couch. We’re close to the crowd, but with enough privacy to talk.
“Is this okay?” Mark asks. His eyes examine the room, full with apprehension.
I nod as I look down at my lap. “You noticed?” My gaze slides up his chest to his eyes.
He shrugs. “It’s hard not to.”
“I spent my summer hidden away. Large groups make me nervous,” I confess. I grind my palms up and down the length of my jeans, ridding my skin of the sweat.
“I get that.” Mark frowns. “It must be hard to be back here, seeing Graham.” He gasps at his slip up. “Oh, my god, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought any of that up.”
“No, Mark, it’s fine. It’s a part of me now. No reason to hide from it. Not like I could if I tried.”
Mark scans the room, shaking his head in disbelief when he sees what I see. All eyes are on us. My hands twist together. When I peek up, Skylar is in front of us, her arms crossed over her heaving chest.
“What do we have here?” She laughs with a surprising arrogance.
I don’t know much about her, and a lot of that is her own fault. She’s one of
Amanda’s followers, and last year, she made it her mission to make me feel uncomfortable when Graham’s back was turned.
“We’re talking.” Mark dismisses her. “You can leave now.”
“Craig’s fault, my ass.” Skylar smooths the front of her skirt and tosses her hair over her shoulder, twirling on her stiletto heels.
I take a deep breath to control my emotions, something I’ve adapted well at doing.
“Don’t listen to her, Kennedy. She’s mad at me. Not you,” Mark insists.
“I’m used to the animosity.”
“I saw the way the girls treated you last year, so I suppose you are.” Mark watches the group of girls across the room. Each of them leans over to whisper in Skylar’s ear. “I know it doesn’t help, but Graham hasn’t had the easiest time, either, since... since everything,” Mark goes back to the conversation we were having before Skylar interrupted.
“That’s not my problem.”
“Kennedy, come on, we all know it’s not that easy.”
“It seems pretty damn easy for him.” My glare follows the banister, up the stairs, and onto the landing in front of the room where Graham’s passed out.
“It’s okay to show a little bit of weakness. You can’t dismiss what the two of you had that easily.”
“You’re right. It hasn’t been easy, but it will be.”
“Time heals all wounds, or some shit like that, right?” Mark says.
“Yeah, some shit like that.” I shake my head and laugh.
For the next hour, Mark and I talk about absolutely nothing, but it feels significant. Unlike the stereotypical athlete, he treats me as if we’ve been friends all of our lives, with a kindness that’s refreshing. He makes me forget about Skylar’s insult and all of the wondering stares.
“Thank you,” I say as I stand.
“For what?” His eyebrows scrunch together.
“Helping me forget for a little while.” I smile and wave as I walk out of the room.
After finding Violet, I head outside to the car. I’ve had my share of interaction for the day.
“Kennedy.”
I twist until my eyes land on Mark’s broad smile.
“Yeah?”
“Maybe I can make you forget, again, sometime,” Mark suggests.
I circle around to find a wide smile plastered on Violet’s face.
My breath deepens at his offer. “I’m not looking to date anyone, Mark, but that’s sweet of you.”
He scoffs. “We can be friends, Kennedy. That’s all I mean.”
“I’ll see you at school, then.” I nod and give him a genuine smile.
The ride home is silent. Once Violet pulls in the driveway, I swing the door open, but she stops me with her hand on my arm.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Violet offers.
“I survived.” I pick at a small piece of lint on my jeans.
“Mark seems... interested.” Her smirk widens.
I shake my head at the idea and walk up the driveway. Her comment holds no significance.
“I’ll see you on Monday, Ken,” Violet shouts out her window.
I wave a goodbye over my shoulder and go straight to bed.
A million thoughts scurry through my brain. My mind races until sleep finally claims me. Even in my dreams, I can’t escape the inevitable.
Come Monday morning, everything will change.
Chapter Four
Graham
Alcohol consumption is probably not the best way to deal with untapped anger and frustration. I couldn’t help myself, though. For the first time in four months, I see her, and all I want to do is wrap her in my arms to keep the world from hurting her anymore.
The irony is I’m the one who’s been hurting her all along.
Maybe I go a little overboard with the tequila tonight. Regret hits the moment Dan has to drag me out of the woods. I need to remember to thank him tomorrow since I more than likely would’ve stayed the night out here without him charging through on a mission.
The walk to the house is spent with me telling him how badly I’ve screwed up. I ramble on about how beautiful she is and how I’m going to kill anyone who goes near her. He shakes his head and mumbles a bunch of nonsense under his breath. I don’t comprehend a word of it because, at this point, everything is too foggy.
“I’m a monster.” I roll my head back and forth on the pillow. “I don’t deserve anyone’s forgiveness and I never deserved her,” I choke out the words, praying someone will hear and believe me.
Violet cracks the window to allow the cool wind to circulate while Dan and Mark make me comfortable in the guest room, then they leave me alone with my thoughts. The shadows beneath the bedroom door move as people shuffle through the hall.
I force myself to stay put. Not getting up to talk to Kennedy is easier said than done. On more than one occasion, I jump up, hell bent on storming downstairs to tell Kennedy I messed up and made a huge mistake. What stops me is knowing my absence in her life is what’s best for her.
The curtains billow and dance in the breeze, drawing my drunken gaze. I stumble from the bed to close the pane, but stop dead in my tracks when I see Kennedy leaning against the wooden railing on the back deck. Her eyes are fixated on the stars. The light brown hair surrounding her face gleams under the bright moonlight. The usual stray piece peeks forward, and all I wish for is to be down there to tuck it behind her ear.
I don’t know how long I hide behind the curtains, peering down into Kennedy’s world, a world I’m not privy to anymore. I jerk further out of sight when Mark walks up to an unsuspecting Kennedy. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but she looks amused as he peers up into the sky she studied moments before.
They walk in the house together and I know it’s time to lay down. As I shut my eyes, I try to forget everything that has happened. The deepest parts of my heart hurt when I think of the pain Kennedy has gone through in the past year. It’s hard to forget. No matter how many girls I hook up with, or how many beers I drink, nothing can erase the memory of the scared look on Kennedy’s face as they put her into the ambulance.
School starts in a few days. Kennedy and I will no longer be able to avoid each other, and I need to come to terms with the decision I’ve made. I did this for her. I walked out on us for her, to keep her safe from all the pain I’m bound to bring.
I fall asleep hoping things will be easier in the morning.
*****
The bright sun, bouncing off hundreds of mirrors, wakes me. I don’t remember much from last night. Only small bits and pieces reach the surface of my fuzzy brain.
“You’re a fucking asshole, you know that, right?” Dan yells as he swings open the bedroom door.
As soon as I sit up, he plops down on the end of the bed. I lean back against the fabric-covered headboard, wishing the massive headache I invited last night would disappear.
“I’ve heard it a million times. It’s not news,” I say, stretching my neck. I need water and I need it fast. With a dry mouth, I swallow hard. My stomach rolls over with sharp pains in a reminder of last night’s binge.
“You don’t get it, bro.” Dan’s hands fly in front of him. He covers his face before looking to me. “I can’t even begin to understand what happened between you and Ken. I heard the shortened, ‘I want to kill, Graham’ version Violet’s always spewing.” Dan tugs at the collar of his shirt. “What I do know is that you watch that girl like she’s the last glass of water in the goddamn world, but you aren’t doing anything about it.” His hands fall into his lap in tight fists.
An audible growl escapes my lips as my eyes narrow at my best friend. “You’re right. You don’t understand. Mind your own goddamn business.”
“Fair enough.” Dan stands to leave but turns back with a sympathetic smile. “But just in case you’re interested, Mark spent most of the night in the corner with Kennedy while you were up here sleeping off your mistakes. Now, I’ll mind my own goddamn business.” With those words, he shuts the
door behind him, leaving me with the knowledge that my best friend spent his night with the girl I love.
I grind my palms down my face, cry out a loud grunt, and jump out of bed. My bare feet stomp downstairs in search of Dan. Instead, I find Violet in the kitchen, dumping half-full beers in the sink.
“That’s not fair.” Violet smirks as she points a bottle in my direction. “What is with you guys? Does Coach pump you with steroids?” She shakes her head and laughs. “Damn, you’re beautiful.”
I should be embarrassed since I’m wearing nothing but my tightest pair of black, Calvin Klein boxer briefs, but it’s not in my nature. I smirk in her direction and wink.
“Quit harassing him, princess. He’s agitated this morning,” Dan whispers over Violet’s shoulder as his arms wrap around her trim waist.
“Why are we so grumpy this morning, sweet cheeks?” Violet jokes. Her usual charisma seeps through her tone as her eyes shine with amusement.
“I might have let it slip that Mark was cozied up to Kennedy last night.” Dan squeezes Violet’s hip and jumps onto the center island counter.
My eyes narrow in on Dan. His eyebrows rise up in challenge, and my cheeks begin to burn. They laugh at the anger written across my face.
“You’re a dick.” I point to Dan. “You’re both dicks,” I shout as I run to grab my clothes and get the hell out of here. As I walk out the front door, I flip them the bird and they laugh.
I head straight home to sulk in the misery I’ve created.
Dan and Mark text, asking why I don’t make it out for poker Saturday night, and I don’t reply. A few of the guys invite me to go to the batting cages on Sunday, but I ignore them. The last thing I want is to be around people, so I avoid everyone until Monday.
This is our senior year, something most of us have looked forward to since we were freshmen. I expected to be wrapped up in Kennedy my final year of high school. If one of my friends had told me this a year ago, I would’ve laughed at him, but now, it’s all I really want, and everything I can’t have. Instead of planning our future after high school, and learning more about each other, Kennedy and I will spend the rest of our time in this town separated, watching each other from afar.
