by Trisha Wolfe
“Your parents informed me of your condition,” he cuts me off. My shoulders slump, and any confidence I worked up before entering this room vanishes. I know exactly what’s coming next. “I’m sorry that you’re suffering, Sam. You’re like a daughter to me, and if there’s anything that Amber and I can do to help, just let us know. But this . . .” He takes a breath, running his hand through his thinning gray hair. “But this, I’m afraid, I can’t do. I’m not about to let you take my son’s ashes—”
“Just some—just a part of him,” I try.
“I’m not about to let you take any of them”—he presses on, unfazed by my plea—“anywhere. At this point in time, you’re not thinking rationally. And this just doesn’t seem healthy to me. He’s at rest now, Sam. We need to let him remain that way.”
My heart’s pounding in my chest, a cold sweat chilling my body. As mad and wounded as I am, it’s nothing compared to the shame starting to creep in. The distrusting gleam in his eyes, his harsh words, are making me feel like I’ve asked to have Tyler’s buried body exhumed. Have I? I’m not sure anymore. “I’m sorry I brought this up.” I look down.
“It’s all right.” He clears his throat. “Tyler loved you. And I know how much you loved him. You’ll always have a part of him, Sam. Nothing will change that or take that away. It belongs to you, but—” He shakes his head, clearly exasperated. “We’ll discuss this again later, and maybe then we can figure out something. Okay?”
Keeping my gaze trained on the dark hardwood floor, I nod.
Amber and Mr. Marks both walk me to the door. I only glance back once to wave and say goodbye before my feet are beating the path. I can’t get away fast enough.
But then, I don’t want to go home, either. Don’t want to face my mother after she told Tyler’s father about my condition. My limbs are shaking, and when I can’t run anymore, I’m walking fast on the nature trail.
Despite anything Mr. Marks said, regardless if it’s wrong for me to want to do this, I can’t stomach the thought of Tyler fading away. That he’s disappearing, and that he’ll become this lost soul. He deserves to be in a better place, wherever that is. Whether it’s heaven . . . I don’t know.
When I reach my destination, I fall against the dark bark, scraping my shoulder as I slide down into a fetal position. I haven’t needed the comfort of this place for a long time. Not since it’d become tainted with bad memories.
I need it now, though. And I hope Tyler lets me have this moment. That he doesn’t ask questions. Questions that I can’t answer.
As I press my back against the tree, I run my fingers over the tattoo on my wrist. This isn’t the first time a Marks’ man has made me feel . . . pathetic. It seems to run in their genes.
FIVE YEARS EARLIER
I’m primping. I’m being such a girl right now I could slap myself.
Applying another layer of burgundy lipstick, I blot, then fluff my hair in the mirror. When I saw his canvas today, I almost lost my shit right there in the middle of art class. After our kiss the other day, and how perfect our moment was, I was starting to think I fantasized it. That maybe I dreamt it, and Holden hadn’t really met me under my tree.
Actually, it’s more like “our” tree, ever since he found me there when I was little. But the other day was the first time he’s been there with me again after all this time. He has no idea that I’ve always gone back, thinking of him.
I press my hands to my cheeks, soothing the heat rising to my face.
My stupid crush was always just that. Swooning over my best friend’s older brother. Wishing that one day he’d notice I wasn’t a little girl under a tree anymore. And when we started our game, speaking within our paintings, I thought I was imagining that he was sending me messages about how beautiful I was. And different than any other girl.
Coming from anyone other than Holden, it would seem lame. Like cheesy lines. But weaved within the intricately drawn lines of his masterpieces, those words are art. Just like him. He’s quiet and talented and dark. Mysterious. Even though I’ve known him as long as Tyler, I’ve never really known him. He keeps to himself, and since he returned from boarding school, he’s been even more reclusive.
But when I look into his eyes . . . it feels like I do know him. Can see right to his soul, and he sees the real me when he looks back into mine. It’s so far past a crush now.
I’ve fallen in love with Holden Marks.
I shove away from my dresser and nod to myself in the mirror. Then I grab my art supplies’ bag and race out the door. In the back of my mind, a little voice is screaming at me, growing louder and shouting that when Tyler finds out about me and his brother, he’s going to be pissed. But I’m not going to listen to that voice.
I think Tyler’s always been a little jealous of his brother. Holden’s never been afraid to do what he wants. To be who he wants. Tyler says his dream is to be a lawyer like his dad, and I believe him—to some degree. But he’s my best friend. I know deep down that he wants to play football professionally. His dad would never hear of that, though. And Tyler’s too scared of disappointing him.
There’s been a constant rivalry between them, at least on Tyler’s part. I’m not sure Holden cares one way or the other. He’s focused on his art and getting off the island. He’s leaving early next year . . . and this is my last chance to show him how I feel. Make him see me as more.
As I hit the trail, another wave of guilt washes over me about Tyler. I’ll just have to give him time to accept this. I mean, we are best friends. Have been forever. If he really cares about me and what I want, then he’ll understand, eventually. I can’t back down now.
Turning the curve, I see Holden already there, his hands sunk into his jean pockets as he leans against the tree. A sudden dizzy spell hits, and I suck air into my lungs, summoning courage. He’s wearing his black combat boots and a black tee. He’s striking and gorgeous. Looking like the proverbial bad boy, but I know what’s underneath. I remember the feel of his lip ring as it grazed my lips, his hands gripping my wet T-shirt, his hard body pressed against mine. Heat flushes my face.
God, I’ve wanted to be with him forever, and I can’t believe this is finally happening. That it’s real. Our first kiss was so raw and sudden and passionate. I didn’t even think to try and capture it. I’m not sure that I could’ve if I’d tried.
I clutch my bag close to my chest. This time, I’m going to sketch Holden. Have something to keep with me. Something better than a picture.
I take a step closer, and as if he senses me, Holden looks up.
My heart stops.
His sad blue eyes catch me off-guard, the look in them haunting. I step forward, worried, having to know what’s wrong. And then I suddenly don’t want to take another step. Don’t want to know the reason behind his guarded expression. If I turn around now, I can keep our moment. Nothing will spoil it.
But I don’t. I move ahead, one foot after the other, until I’m right before him, looking up into the depth of his eyes. His hands are still in his pockets. He hasn’t touched me yet. My chest is tight, but somehow, I manage to be the first to break the charged silence.
“Hi.” I want to curl in on myself. It’s lame, but in that one word, I watch his face darken even more.
“Look, Sam . . . about the other day—”
“Don’t.” Another one syllable word. I squeeze my eyes closed, already feeling the burn of threatening tears. I’m scared if he says any more, I’ll break down, like a total girl.
He sighs heavily. Scuffs his boot against the ground. Shuffles something in his pocket. “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure what you thought was going on, or what was going to happen between us.”
I bite my bottom lip, stopping it from trembling. “You kissed me.” It’s an accusation.
“You kissed me.” He raises his eyebrows.
My mouth parts, but I’m stunned silent.
“You’re a cute girl,” he says, each of his words tearing at my defenses. “And I wo
n’t lie, the other day was hot. You’re going to be one sexy woman when you grow up. But that’s just how I am. I make out with a lot of chicks. And I was boned up the other day.” He laughs. “Sorry. Sometimes I do dumb shit when I’m high.”
All the air vacates my lungs. My chest feels like its imploding, sucking me inside out, crushing me. My heart’s beating in my throat. I’ve never heard Holden talk so much all at once—and when he finally opens up to me, he’s wrong. Just wrong.
I swallow hard. “You’re lying.”
His head snaps back like he’s been slapped. Good. “Whatever,” he breathes out. “Just do me a favor, don’t tell your parents. I don’t want the hassle from them over some jailbait.”
And now I feel like I’ve been slapped. We didn’t do anything for him to really get into trouble over . . . and he’s not eighteen yet . . . but even still. “I wouldn’t say anything, Holden. I’m not like that.”
He yanks out a hand from his pocket and holds it up. “You got to get over this little crush, Sam.” My eyes go wide. “It’s really sweet, but almost a little stalker-ish. I see you watching me at school and shit. I was wrong to fuck around in art. I shouldn’t have . . . I mean. I shouldn’t have lead you on . . . I just thought—”
He’s stumbling over his words, like he’s veering from his cheat sheet. “Not going how you planned?” I say, my voice ragged. “Why are you doing this? Why are you being such an asshole? I’m not some stupid little kid. I know what those paintings meant.”
He tips his head back and exhales. When he looks at me again, all his expression conveys is annoyance. I take a step back, feeling the tears about to fall. “Okay, I didn’t want to be an ass about this, but you’re just not getting it.” He advances, and I take another step back. He grabs my arms. “I was curious what it’d be like to fuck you. But I changed my mind, all right? I don’t want the trouble from your parents or the cops.”
“Let go of me.” I jerk back, but his fingers dig in deeper. “I said let go!”
His eyes flash, and for a split second, something registers. “Sorry.”
“Fuck you!”
“Sam—”
“Don’t ever fucking talk to me again. Don’t ever fucking look at me again.” I turn my back on him and storm off, my heart ready to leap out of my chest. My breathing is heavy, and my vision blurs.
I fight back the tears until I know I’m far enough away.
And then I keep fighting them.
Once I’m safely in my room, I let them fall, trailing scorching paths down my cheeks. When Tyler walks into my room, he doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t question. He just holds me until I’m all cried out.
HOLDEN
I can’t stop pacing.
My head is aching, my knuckles sore from gripping my hands into fists. Whatever my dad said to Sam has her upset. She’s been sitting under that tree for half an hour, just staring off into nothing.
I continue to argue with myself about storming into his house and demanding to know what he did to her—but my sanity wins out. For now. If she’d picked any other place to go, I’d have gone to her in a heartbeat. But I can’t. Not here. Not after what happened the last time.
I was such a dick back then. But I had a reason for why I hurt her. I had a good reason. Only, it means fuck all now, doesn’t it?
As she wraps her arms around herself, her tiny shirt inches up to reveal a sliver of smooth stomach, and I just want to come out of my skin. I almost laugh out loud. I’m losing my mind. After all this time, I’m still losing my shit over this girl. But when she buries her face in her knees, and I see the tremble of her shoulders, I can’t take it anymore.
Stepping from behind the huge pine, I say gently, “He’s an asshole, Sam.”
She startles, whipping her head around. “Holden? What the hell—?”
I hold up my hands. “I saw you . . .” I glance behind me, indicating that I saw her leave the house. “I don’t know why you were there, but I wish you would’ve told me first. I could’ve warned you that he’s unreasonable now.” I laugh, I can’t help it. “Unreasonable now. As if he’s ever been.”
She scrambles against the tree and pushes herself up to stand. “It’s understandable, considering everything he’s gone through since . . .” She looks away, down the trail, away from me. She can’t say it.
“Since he lost both his wife and his son. Since I killed her.” I say it for her.
Sam’s arms hang helplessly by her sides. “It was an accident, Holden. Somewhere inside, he knows that.” She finally looks at me. “He’ll come around.”
Yeah. An accident. Like Tyler’s death was an accident.
I exhale heavily, trying to rein in my anger. I didn’t come here to fight with her. “Are you all right?”
She shrugs. “I’ve been better.”
It’s the first time she’s said a sentence to me that isn’t laced with venom. I think I’m making progress . . . .for whatever my reason is . . . until she lifts her head and her bright eyes spear me.
“You should probably leave.”
I press my lips together and nod once, hard. “Right.” I turn to go, but say over my shoulder, “Whatever you wanted, you know I could probably help you.”
There’s silence, me taking a couple of slow steps, waiting to see if she’ll respond, and her . . .
“Wait.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I pivot. Raise my eyebrows. Her face flushes, and I pretend like I still have an effect on her.
Sam bites down on her lip, thinking. And I can’t help wanting to taste that lip. To taste her. Stop, I mentally scold myself. She was my brother’s girlfriend. Especially now that he’s gone, I shouldn’t have these thoughts about her. She was always his. Will always be his.
“Do you have access to your family mausoleum?” she asks.
I squint. “What? You mean like a key to get inside?”
She nods. “Yeah.”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry,” I tell her, hating being the reason her face falls. It’s such an odd question, but maybe she just wants to be closer to Tyler. “Is that what you asked my dad?”
With a huff, she turns around and starts walking. “Forget it. Never mind.”
“Sam—” I jog up beside her, matching her pace. “Just tell me what’s going on. I won’t judge.” And I won’t. No one’s lived a more screwed up existence than I have. Especially during high school. She saw me at my worst, and she still accepted me. Fuck. I need to stop thinking like that.
She stops and faces me so quickly I pull back, expecting her to slap me. But she only clears the loose black wisps from her eyes and says, “I need you to help me steal your brother’s ashes.”
So the rumors are true. I usually don’t listen to the shit this island says, but it seems for once, people know the deal. Sam has lost her mind.
I approach her with caution, slowly, like I’m walking up to a feral animal. The closer I get, the better I can see the telltale signs. The pasty complexion of her skin. The bloodshot eyes. The dark circles beneath. She looks like she hasn’t had a decent night’s sleep in a long time.
When I’m right before her, I look down. She hasn’t grown one inch since her freshman year. She’s just as petite and slender. I’m tempted to scoop her up and force feed her sleeping pills, then lay her down in my motel room. Just so she can get a few good hours in.
“Like I said,” I say. “I don’t judge. But what do you need them for?” She physically tenses. “I have to ask, Sam. And if I’m even going to contemplate something as batshit crazy as this, I need to know.”
Her eyes pierce me when I say crazy. Shit. Probably wrong word choice.
But with a forced exhale, she relaxes her face. “He wanted to travel across the country. It’s his regret . . . what he wants to do more than anything.”
“How do you know it’s his regret?” She said it in the present tense. The now. My skin’s tingling with little pinpricks.
Taking a step back, she p
uts distance between us. “I know it is because it’s all he ever talked about, Holden. And I want to fulfill it for him, to take him on his trip, spread some of his ashes along the way.” She shakes her head. “Just forget it.”
I see her shutting down. I feel it. And I can’t stand it. Without thought, I gain back the distance between us and say, “I’ll do it.”
I’ve lost my mind, too. But hell. I believe her. I know that Tyler always wanted to do this. He had maps plastered all over his bedroom walls. They’re probably still there. And spreading his ashes in the places that he wanted to see more than anything sounds like something he’d have asked for—if he’d been given the chance. If he’d had time to think it through.
“Really?” Her head tilts, gaze narrows. She doesn’t trust me. I don’t blame her.
“Yeah,” I say. “But there’s a stipulation.”
She crosses her arms, waiting.
“I’m going with you.”
SAM
Holden’s the crazy one if he thinks I’m really letting him go on this trip. I almost laughed in his face back there. He’s the last person I want to be around for any amount of time. But I do need him to break into the Marks’ family mausoleum (really, they have one of those). The idea had just hit me; I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of it before.
Holden got busted for breaking and entering when he was in middle school. If anyone can get me on the inside, he can. But after that, I’m finding a way to ditch him.
A small sense of justified revenge swells in my chest. I’d love to see the look on his face when he realizes he’s been cast off—seems like poetic justice.
Shaking my head, I refocus on my laptop screen. Honestly, I’m not so jaded over what happened between us anymore. If it hadn’t have been for Holden and his douchebaggery, then Tyler and I may have never gotten together. Well, we would have, eventually. I believe that. Holden just sped up the process.
