I was a hot mess of anger and angst, so I ended up getting into a fight with some random person. Knowing I was going to probably get suspended, I then took off and started walking all over town to avoid going home. As my anger built, I longed for a canvas and a paint set so I could pour out my emotions like I used to. But just thinking about painting, of being that girl from Before, made that agony twist inside me, and I almost started to cry.
That’s when I passed a wall covered with graffiti, and a spray paint can just happened to be nearby. Call it fate, maybe something darker, but I found myself picking up the can and staining the wall with my soul.
After that, I felt better, calmer, emptier. And that’s when my habit started.
And now it’s gone, just like everything else. Unless I want to be responsible for my family getting even more broken.
Part of me wishes I could be that person, the one who doesn’t care about anything enough to just let that happen. I thought I was that person, but after the last couple of days, I don’t know if I am, especially since the idea of being the cause behind my brother and sister getting taken away is what has kept me in the house and my hands away from spray paint all day.
“What the hell is wrong with me?” I mutter. “Since when do I care about shit?”
I blame it on yesterday, when what little I had left of my old life fell apart. And now I’m here, trying to figure out where to go, who I am, with nothing left from my old life, without Blaine, without Masie.
As if sensing where my thoughts are at, my phone buzzes with an incoming text from Masie.
I almost don’t read it. Don’t want to read it. Know I shouldn’t. That it’ll probably just piss me off. Yet I find myself stupidly swiping my finger across the screen anyway.
Masie: Hey, I know you’re not talking to me, but there’s a party tomorrow, and I’d really like you to come with me. I think it’d be a good chance for us to talk. And maybe you could talk to Blaine, too. He misses you, Lex. We both do. You’re our friend.
Friend. It’s like she doesn’t even know what the word means. Honestly, I’m not even sure I do, if I ever did. That box of photos I found in my closet just seems like one big lie now.
I was living a lie.
Me: No thanks.
It’s all I say. I could say more, say everything I’m feeling, but my feelings have already been exposed too much. I want to hide them, cover them back up where no one can find them. And while I can hide for now, eventually I’m going to have to face Blaine and Masie. And while I’m friendless.
Well, maybe not totally friendless, if West and I are still going to try to be friends.
And what about that whole fake boyfriend/girlfriend deal we made? Is that still on? I haven’t heard from him since last night when he texted to check up on me and I told him about Milo towing my car home.
Masie sends me another text, but I ignore it and open up a text thread with West. Then I hover my fingers over the buttons as I figure out what to say, other than: Hey, are we still gonna pretend to date or what?
I dither. Well, I guess that might work.
Not seeing a better alternative, I type out the text message. Then I put the phone down, assuming it’ll take him a while to text back, seeing how it’s spring break and late enough that he’s probably out partying or whatever it is West does. Honestly, I’m not really sure. Yeah, we hang out and everything, but not enough that I know everything about him. For all I know, he could have this whole other life. I mean, I didn’t even know him and Blaine weren’t that close anymore. When I really think about it, though, I haven’t seen them hang out as much as they used to …
Wait. Why am I overanalyzing West? What the heck is wrong with me?
I pull a face at the realization, picking up my phone as it buzzes.
Surprise flickers through me when I see West has replied. Honestly, I thought it was going to be another text from Masie.
West: Of course we are. We made a deal and shook on it. And I take handshake deals very seriously.
I roll my eyes. God, he can be such a weirdo sometimes.
Still, seeing that he’s still on board with the plan relaxes me a bit.
Me: Okay, cool. We should probably go over the rules, though, and decide how we’re gonna do this so it can actually look real. Although, I think some people will probably be a bit skeptical.
West: Why’s that?
Me: Um, because anyone who knows us knows there’s no way we’d ever date.
West: Yeah, I’m not gonna agree with you on that. I think most people are waiting for us to hook up.
Me: What??? No, they aren’t!
West: I’ve heard a couple of people say it. They think that’s why we’re always fighting. That it’s sexual tension.
I pull a face but can’t help thinking about how we bit each other’s necks yesterday.
I scratch my forehead, trying not to panic as emotions try to rise inside me. My fingers itch to hold a spray paint can, and I seriously just about get up and grab one.
What the hell am I going to do? I think I might be addicted.
West: Did I scare you off? Because I was just kidding. I pinkie promise.
I actually don’t think he was, but I don’t call him out on it.
Me: We should probably talk about the rules.
A minute ticks by before he replies.
West: Okay, what are they?
Me: Well, I’ve been thinking about it, and I think there needs to be a no-falling-for-each-other rule. I mean, I really doubt that’ll happen, but I don’t know. I just want it to be a rule.
West: You know setting rules can’t control that sort of stuff, right? Rules can’t stop you from feeling stuff.
That’s not true at all. I have my own rules to keep me from feeling agony every day and, for the most part, it’s worked. Except for the last couple of days. I need to fix that and get my control back.
Me: I need it to be a rule.
West: Fine. What else?
Me: Well, after this is over, I think we should just go back to being enemies.
West: When were we ever enemies?
Me: Um, since forever. Well, except for yesterday.
West: Maybe. But yesterday we also agreed to try to be friends.
Me: Okay, maybe you’re right, but that doesn’t mean we’ve actually become friends yet. And besides, I really doubt we’re going to be able to stop arguing all the time.
West: Friends can argue. In fact, it’s not a healthy friendship if you don’t argue a little bit.
I think about how Blaine and I never argued and almost type it to prove him wrong, but then I remember what happened yesterday.
Were Blaine and I ever really friends?
Me: Okay, how about frenemies?
West: Frenemies with benefits?
Me: Yeah, I’m going back to my original statement of being enemies.
West: I’m just messing with you. You can call us frenemies if you want, but I think you and I are going to be BFFs after all this is over.
Me: Guess you better work on those hair-braiding skills of yours, because my hair’s a lot longer and more untamable than Blaine’s.
West: I’ll get right on that. But you need to practice our sleepover skills. Because, from what I’ve heard, you’re quite the snorer.
Me: Masie has such a big mouth.
The mention of her makes my chest feel tight, but I clear my throat, trying to clear out the congestion.
Me: But anyway, I’ll work on my sleepover skills. But I do think there needs to be one more rule, and I already sort of said it earlier.
West: Aw, the no kissing rule. I remember. I also remember telling you that won’t work if we want to look like we’re dating.
Yeah, I remember him saying that, too, and while I’m not one to make a big deal out of kissing someone, I also haven’t kissed anyone either. No, Jay may have touched me that day, but he didn’t try to kiss me. Thank God.
Still, the idea of kissing someone�
� Of letting someone touch me like that… Of me not knowing what I’m doing and looking that weak…
Weak. You are weak.
I shove the thoughts from my head. I can’t go to that place right now.
Focus on something else.
Focus on fixing the mess that is yesterday, starting with making Blaine think you’re over him.
I reread the text as I thrum my fingers against the sides of my legs, trying to figure out how to tell West about this kissing thing without looking like a freak. But then I say to hell with it and decide to type part of the truth, refusing to be that girl who worries about what a guy will think about her. I’ve been her before, and I have no desire to be her again. I’m tougher than that. If West wants to make fun of me for it, bring it on. I’ll make fun of his ass for the time he cried over spilling his ice cream. Granted, he was seven, but whatever. I know a lot of embarrassing stuff about him.
Me: The kissing thing might be a problem since I’ve never kissed someone. And I don’t think doing it in front of people for the first time and me being all awkward about it is gonna make our relationship look real.
He doesn’t respond right away, and I brace myself for some snarky remark to ping through, so I’m shocked by the text he finally sends.
West: If you want, I can come over there and practice with you. I’m not doing anything right now, except for hanging out with a couple of friends. I know it might be kind of weird, but I think it’s better to do it in private.
I have to read the text message twice to make sure I’m understanding it correctly.
He wants to come over tonight and practice kissing?
West and me kissing?
Kissing?
What the actual hell?
Me: Tonight might not be the best night. I’m kind of in trouble right now.
West: I’m glad you brought that up. I wanted to ask you what happened yesterday but didn’t know if you wanted to talk about it.
Me: I really don’t. Let’s just say that I have to spend next weekend repainting the side of a grocery store.
West: So just a usual weekend for you?
I send him the middle finger emoji, and he responds with a cheeky grin emoji.
I’m so close to smiling, and I have no clue what to do with that, but I can feel a freak out building inside me. Fortunately, he sends another text that distracts me.
West: Maybe I can just come over tonight and sneak into your room. I know you’re in trouble and everything, but one of Blaine’s football friends is having a party tomorrow night and I was thinking it would be the perfect opportunity for us to kind of show up together as a couple.
He’s probably talking about the same party Masie invited me to. I don’t want to go. At all. But I also know West might be right.
Huh … I never thought that thought would flow through my mind.
West: Unless you can’t go. I’m not sure if you’re grounded or not.
Me: Loki never mentioned being grounded.
Not that he’s going to be on board with me taking off to a party only forty-eight hours after I get in trouble for vandalism. Still, if I do some good deeds, maybe he’ll let me out. If not, I can always climb out the window.
Guilt clutches at my chest, though, as I remember what he said, the worry in his eyes.
I need you to start caring …
Shit, I’m becoming a huge, confused mess; that mask continuing to fall off no matter how many times I put it back on.
West: So, you think you can come?
Can I?
Do I even want to?
I’m not sure.
About anything really?
I’m a stupid confuse girl.
I sigh at myself.
Me: I might be able to make it happen.
West: Awesome. Then I’ll head over now. Be there in like thirty minutes.
Wait … What?
Through me trying to figure out if I could go to the party, I forgot the reason we were discussing it.
Panic sets in, and I just about text him to tell him not to come. That we don’t need to practice kissing. That I’ll wing it. But then I picture myself at the party in front of all those people, maybe even Jay and some of his friends, and West leans in to kiss me. What if I panic and can’t get control of myself? What if he makes a huge deal about it? What if my mask drops and everyone sees the real me, the scared girl who lost her mother and father and is afraid of being bullied? Who shook on the floor while he groped me?
“You’re so fucking ugly.”
Yeah, practicing might be a good idea.
“You can handle this,” I try to convince myself. “Just be the cool, doesn’t-give-a-shit-about-anything Alexis.”
Even with my mental pep talk, my pulse races as I think about lips, and West’s lips, and his tongue piercing I felt on my skin yesterday when he licked my neck. And how, for a very, very small microsecond, it felt … good?
No. It didn’t.
I won’t let it.
As a wave of emotions pour over me, I roll off my bed and storm toward the closet to grab a can of spray paint from the stash I keep in there. Maybe I’ll spray paint the neighbor’s house. Or a sign nearby. Something, anything to keep my mind off this.
But then I pause in the doorway as the sounds of my siblings’ music touch my ears.
What if I get caught? Then what? We just end up living in the foster system? Do I want to be responsible for that? Can I hurt them that much? Do I really not care about anything anymore?
“Oh my God, I don’t want this conscience anymore. I wish Loki never said anything to me. I wish I didn’t care.” Shaking my head and growling in frustration, I toss the spray paint back into the closet and yank my fingers through my hair.
This staying out of trouble thing is going to be complicated.
I’m somehow going to have to find a way to preoccupy my mind another way.
But what? I don’t care about anything anymore, all my old life gone. So where does that leave me?
I have no idea, and all I can do is float around in this invisible sea of agony until I figure out a way to swim out of it.
But what if I never figure it out? What if I keep floating around until I drown?
A COUPLE OF MINUTES LATER, I decide to take a break from my own head and go into the kitchen to get something to eat. Loki has apparently returned home. At least, the empty grocery bags on the counter suggest so. But I haven’t seen him, so I’m betting he’s up in his room.
Anna, however, is in the kitchen, and so is her boyfriend, Luca. Which would be fine except they’re making out near the back door and making some really loud noises that would make me blush, if I were a blusher.
They don’t notice me walk in, and I consider just leaving, since seeing them reminds me of what I’m about to do with West, but I’m hungry, so …
“Just an FYI, you have an audience,” I announce as I cross the kitchen and wander over to the fridge.
They jerk back, gasping for air. Then Luca takes a step back from Anna and slips his fingers through hers.
“Hey, Alexis,” he greets me with a smile, even though I think I might scare him a little. I don’t really blame the guy since I threatened to kick his ass if he hurt her when they first started dating. I also warned him that I’d kick his ass if he told her that I had threatened him. It was probably the nicest thing I’ve done in a long time, and I’m not even sure if it was nice. If it was, though, I don’t want anyone to know about it.
Instead of answering Luca, I just raise my brows then open the fridge and start digging around for something to eat.
“Hey, if you’re hungry, we’re heading out right now to get something to eat,” Anna tells me in a cheerful tone.
Just a little while ago, she would’ve barely registered I existed, partly to be a bitch and partly because she’d more than likely be high. She’s different now, though; close to acting like her Before self. I wonder how she does it—acts like she used to after everything th
at’s happened.
“I’m good,” I reply, not bothering to mention that I can’t go anywhere because West is coming over to practice kissing for our fake relationship. Because, yeah, that’d go over really well.
Anna frowns but quickly recovers with a smile. “Okay. Do you want us to bring you anything back?”
I shake my head, grabbing some stuff out of the fridge to make a sandwich. “I’m good.”
She releases a quiet sigh. “All right. Well, if you change your mind, text me.”
I give her a thumbs-up, barely looking at her as I busy myself with making a sandwich. But I can feel her eyes on me, as if searching for something. A sign that the old Lex still exists, the one who didn’t reply with short responses, who laughed, who smiled. She can look all she wants; she won’t find her. And I pretend to be unbothered by her assessment. But a breath I didn’t realize I was holding slips past my lips after her and Luca leave.
I promptly focus on making myself something to eat, shoving down whatever emotions were trying to surface.
Ten minutes later, I’ve eaten and am cleaning up when I receive a text from West.
West: I’m just about there. Do you want me to knock on the door or do you wanna just meet me outside? Not sure if you’re allowed to have anyone over or not.
While I’m pretty sure Loki is up in bed, I don’t think having West come into the house is a good idea.
Me: Just text me when you get here and I’ll come out there.
West: Cool. See you in a few.
He seems so casual about the situation. I wish I was—I try to be—but my heart speeds up as the reality of the situation crashes over me.
He’ll be here in a few.
To kiss.
And I’m pretty sure I have lunchmeat stuck in my teeth.
I cup my hand in front of my face to do a breath check then pull a face at the stench.
“Well, that smells lovely,” I mutter to myself, deliberating if I want to go brush my teeth or not. It would be kind of funny to kiss him with rancid lunchmeat breath. It’d be a good revenge for all those times he teased me and annoyed the hell out of me. But he was nice to me yesterday …
Signed with a Kiss (Signed with a Kiss Series Book 1) Page 10
