Inseparable

by Siobhan Davis

I’m garbage, and they’re better off without me anyway.

  Ayden

  I always thought my feelings would be the sword to come between us. Never in a million years did I think Devin would be the one to destroy our bond. That his inability to keep it in his pants would end our story in such a sordid way. Devin’s desire to plant his seed in every vagina within a ten-mile radius has ripped our friendship apart. I thought we were stronger than that, but we’re not.

  I will never forgive him.

  Never.

  All he had to do was stay away from her. He promised me he would. But he couldn’t even do that much for her, for me.

  Who does that? What kind of friend could do that to another friend?

  My arm throbs, and I cradle it to my chest, still struggling to accept the fact Devin did this to me. I know I got a few good punches in too, but I would never have let it get so far. I would have stopped myself. I saw the look in his eyes as he lashed out, and the desire to inflict pain was written all over his face. In that moment, he hated me, truly hated me, and I doubt he could have stopped himself even if he wanted to.

  That thought sticks in my gut.

  My feelings when it comes to Devin right now are a clusterfuck of epic proportions.

  But I know what I need to do.

  I need to stay away from him. Lina needs to stay away from him. We’ll cut him loose, and he can bury himself in pussy and booze to his heart’s content.

  He’s written the end of our story, and there’s no happy epilogue. He’s made his choice, and he’ll have to deal with the consequences because he’s out of our lives.

  I’m going to erase him as if he never existed.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Angelina

  I hold Ayden’s hand in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. We don’t talk, but no words are necessary. When they take him away to x-ray his arm, I pace the hallways, praying it’s not broken.

  Ayden’s parents are inconsolable and too upset to look for answers right now, which I’m grateful for because I don’t know how to explain it to them. But Mom isn’t so easily deflected. “We’re going on a coffee run,” she says to the Carters. “We’ll bring you back some.” Gently taking my arm, she steers me down the corridor to the elevator. She doesn’t say a word until we’re seated in the small coffee station downstairs, nursing steaming-hot coffee. I take a sip, grimacing at the bitter taste. This stuff would put hairs on your chest.

  “I know you’re upset about Ayden, but I need to know what that fight was about and why both those boys were in your room in the middle of the night.”

  “Please, Mom.” My tone is pleading. “It’s six a.m. and I’m exhausted. Can’t we do this later?”

  She smiles over my head, waving at two nurses who pass by. “The Carters will need answers, and I don’t want to lie to them.” Stretching across the table, she takes my hand. “You can tell me anything, honey. You know that. You have nothing to fear from telling the truth.”

  I sigh, rubbing my tired face. “You know I tell you most things, Mom, but I haven’t told you everything.”

  “Sometimes moms just know.” I arch a brow, and she squeezes my hand, smiling softly. “If this is about you loving Devin, I already know. I’ve always known.”

  Tears threaten to surface again. “It doesn’t matter, because he doesn’t love me back and he’s humiliated me in front of most of our class, and now he might have ruined Ayden’s football career, and I don’t think I even know him anymore. Devin’s ruined everything, and I feel so sick.” A sob travels up my throat, and I force myself to take deep breaths, to calm down. I don’t want to lose it in the cafeteria of Mom’s workplace and embarrass her or myself.

  She gets up, moving around the table, and sits down beside me. “Tell me what happened, sweetheart. It’ll help to talk about it.”

  It flows out of me like a river, and Mom pats my arm as I fill her in, leaving nothing out. I rest my head on her shoulder when I’m finished, thoroughly emotionally and physically drained.

  She kisses my forehead. “I’m sorry that happened to you, sweetheart, and I’m sure Devin feels terrible too.”

  “Good. He deserves it.”

  She brushes hair back out of my face. “I know you don’t really mean that, but I understand, and your feelings are completely normal. I’m angry that he’s hurt you, and hurt Ayden, but that boy has been hurting for years. It doesn’t excuse his actions, and although I’ve tried to help where I can, it’s no substitute for a loving home. I’m sure he didn’t mean to deliberately hurt either of you. You and Ayden mean the world to him.”

  “Not anymore.”

  “You’ll figure this out.”

  I sniffle. “I already have, Mom. I can’t be his friend. Not after this. He’s the one who told me I’m always too quick to forgive, and he’s right. I can’t forgive him this.”

  “You might feel differently in time.”

  I twist around, staring at her in confusion. “Mom, I just told you he rejected me, screwed my archnemesis, and then drunkenly embarrassed me in front of everyone, yet you sound like a fully paid-up member of his fan club. What gives?”

  She cups my face gently. “I hate that he’s done that to you, and I’ll bet he hates himself for it too, but it doesn’t change who he is. Devin is a good kid struggling in a shitty world. He’s lost but he’ll find his way back to you. And you have a massive heart and the capacity to handle this. You’ll forgive him.”

  I shake my head, anger resurfacing. “Mom, didn’t you hear what I said? He doesn’t want me. He doesn’t love me! He’d rather screw that skank bag than call me his friend.”

  “Sweetheart, that boy has been in love with you as long as you’ve been in love with him. If he’s pushing you away, he’s doing it to protect you, and I can’t hate Devin for caring about my little girl that much, no matter how poorly he went about it.”

  Devin’s words from a few weeks ago drift through my mind, but I dismiss them, too angry and hurt to believe he meant it. I frown, scratching the back of my head. “You’re nuts. Like seriously, I’m kinda freaking out because this is not normal, Mom.”

  She chuckles. “I consider that a good thing.”

  I roll my eyes. “But you’re always sending Ayden and me googly eyes. I really don’t get it.”

  “Ayden will be your friend for life, honey, and I love how well he takes care of you.”

  “But that day when he was on the porch with the lilies, and we were in the car, you said—”

  “That Ayden loves you too? I know he does, but love comes in many guises, and you can love more than one person at a time.”

  “I feel like I’ve stepped into some warped alternate realm or like some alien being has invaded my mom’s body because this conversation is so surreal.”

  She chuckles again. “You’re young, honey, and I know you feel things intensely, but emotions change, priorities shift, and people wander in and out of your life. I know it probably feels like the end of the world, but everything will right itself. I still remember how terrified I was when I finally plucked up the courage to confront your father about his abuse, and the day the divorce was granted was the best and the worst day of my life. I was so scared that I wouldn’t be able to take care of you by myself, but time is a great healer, and when you reach your lowest point, you find inner strength you never realized you had. The best piece of advice I can give you is not to make any rash decisions. Let things settle before deciding what to do. Right now, you’re hurting, and understandably so, but things might look different in a few days or a few weeks. Don’t cut Devin out of your life until you’re sure it’s what you want to do, but if it is, then I’ll support your decision. I care about both those boys, and Lucas too, but you’re my daughter, and you’ll always come first.”

  As we walk back to the ward, I’m mulling over Mom’s words of wisdom,
thinking how lucky I am to have won the mother jackpot. Everything else may be turning to crap in my life, but she’s the one true constant I can always rely upon.

  And that thought temporarily papers over the fissures in my heart.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Ayden’s arm is broken, and he’s in a cast from his hand to just above his elbow. The doctor suggested he take a few days off school, but he’s way too stubborn to succumb to expert medical advice, so, when he turns up at my door bright and early on Monday morning, I can’t say I’m surprised. A familiar smile lights up his face. “Why are you so cheery?” I ask in a puzzled tone, shoveling another spoonful of cereal in my mouth.

  “Your gorgeous face always puts a smile on mine.”

  His lips twitch, and I stick my tongue out at him, but his words help thaw out my frozen heart. “You don’t have to do this for me,” I tell him, walking to the sink to rinse out my bowl.

  “I’m not leaving you to face the fallout on your own.” I expect he’d cross his arms and attempt to stare me out of it if he was capable of the maneuver.

  I put my bowl and spoon in the dishwasher, closing it with my hip. “I won’t be alone. The girls have my back.” Yesterday, Mariah, Madisyn, and Gabrielle all rallied around, dropping by to assure me they’ll support me in dealing with all the crap coming my way. Mariah is fit to kill Devin, but we’ve agreed that the best course of action is to ignore him and Becky. Easier said than done though.

  With his good arm, Ayden grabs my waist, pulling me to him as I attempt to pass. He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “And I’m glad they are there for you, but I want to be too.”

  Tears sting my eyes, and I inwardly curse. The last thing I want to do today is turn all teary-eyed and give Becky and her minions more ammunition. “You should be resting.”

  “I can rest after school. I’m going to have tons of free time on my hands now I can’t train.”

  “What did Coach say?” I saw his car parked outside the Carters yesterday, and it doesn’t require much brainpower to figure out the topic of conversation.

  He shrugs. “Not a lot he can say. Obviously, he’s upset and concerned, but the season’s just about over, and it’s, hopefully, only a temporary setback.” He slouches against the counter, smiling at me.

  I frown a little, eyeing him curiously. “You’re taking this remarkably well.”

  He shrugs again. “Stressing out about it isn’t going to change anything. Anyway, Dad’s doing enough of that for the both of us.”

  I cringe, recalling his dad’s angry tirade the morning we returned from the hospital. Words like “good for nothing” and “chip off the old block” were bandied about. “Does he still want to press charges against him?” I can’t even say Devin’s name out loud without it causing enormous pain. Mom said to give it time, that it won’t hurt as much, but, so far, the pain hasn’t eased at all.

  “Mom talked him down, but he’s banned Devin from the house. Not that it matters, because I want nothing to do with him anyway.”

  I nod over the painful lump in my throat, not wanting to get into it again. “Let’s get out of here. Might as well get this over and done with.”

  Heated words are exchanged when Ayden tries to take my book bag as we leave the house. “You’re freaking injured, and I can carry my own bag.”

  “I’ve still got one good arm,” he protests, raising his uninjured arm in demonstration. “And I’m not an invalid.”

  I roll my eyes as I throw my bag in the Jeep, rounding the driver side. “I know you aren’t, but it’s time you let me look after you, and don’t even attempt to argue with me because we both know you need to do what you’re told and not jeopardize your recovery.”

  I swing myself up into the Jeep, adjusting the seat for my shorter legs. I run my hands over the steering wheel in awe, my temporary panic over the impending shit-storm in school forgotten in the excitement of getting to drive Ayden’s Jeep around for weeks.

  “I like looking after you,” he huffs, buckling himself in. “And I hate not being able to drive my own Jeep or do other stuff for myself.”

  I lean over, patting his knee. “Poor baby.” He pouts, and I laugh as I turn the key and crank the engine. “Just sit back, relax, and enjoy being treated like royalty.”

  He flips me the bird, and I roar laughing as I ease the Jeep out of the drive.

  Anxiety returns with gusto the nearer we get to school, and I’m on the verge of a full-blown panic attack by the time I swing the Jeep into a vacant space in the school parking lot. My knee taps up and down, and my heart’s beating ferociously in my chest.

  “Relax, Lina.” Ayden pivots in his seat, placing his hand on my knee, stalling the jerky motion. “It will be fine. Just remember, you’re not at fault. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

  I draw in a brave breath as I jump out of the truck. Ayden slides awkwardly out his side, slinging his bag over his good shoulder. When I round his side, he takes my hand in his, and we head into the building together. The sneaky looks, hushed whispers, and sly finger-pointing starts instantly, but I keep my chin up, doing my best to ignore it. Ayden’s grasp on my fingers strengthens, and a muscle clenches in his jaw as we walk toward my locker. We round the corner, and I slam to a halt. Devin is sitting on the ground in front of my locker, with his knees bent. A small crowd has gathered in front of him, whispering and giggling as they wait for the show to commence.

  Well, they can wait. I’m not going to give them anything else to gossip over.

  “I can’t believe his nerve,” Ayden mumbles under his breath.

  “Just ignore him. That’s what I’m planning on doing,” I whisper back.

  The crowd grows quiet as we approach, drawing Devin’s attention. He looks up and climbs to his feet. I open my locker without looking at him or the gossipmongers.

  “Can I talk to you both in private?” Dev implores in a hushed tone.

  I ignore him, pulling books haphazardly out of my locker and stuffing them in my bag. Ayden’s good arm rests on my lower back, offering reassurance. He silently fumes, glaring at Devin.

  “Please,” Dev says.

  His voice cracks a little, and damn, if it isn’t hard to react to that, but I harden my heart in protection. “There is nothing you have to say I want to hear,” I reply without looking at him. I slam my locker shut with more force than necessary, whirling around into Ayden’s waiting embrace.

  “And we don’t need to put on another show. God knows they’re still gossiping over the last one,” Ayden growls under his breath.

  “Well, when can we talk?” Dev persists.

  Ayden looks to me for guidance, and I know he’ll follow my lead. Encased in his protective arms, I risk a quick glance at Devin over my shoulder. He looks like death warmed up. His pale skin is bruised in several places, his lip is cut, and he looks like he hasn’t slept or shaved in days. “I don’t want to talk to you,” I whisper. “Just leave me alone.”

  A grief-stricken look washes over his face. “Please, Ange. I know I fucked up, but please give me a chance to explain.”

  I shake my head as tears start to well in my eyes. “I can’t. It hurts too much.” Ayden tightens his hold on me, and I’m careful not to press into his injured arm as I snuggle in closer.

  Devin hangs his head, his thick, dark hair falling in sleek waves over his forehead. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s too little too late,” Ayden adds. “If we ever meant anything to you, you’ll stay away. It’s what we both want.”

  The crowd is straining to hear our conversation, and judging by the unhappy frowns and confused scowls, I’d say we’ve disappointed them. News of Ayden and Devin’s fight in my bedroom has spread like wildfire—according to Mariah—so no doubt everyone was hoping for round two to kick off this morning. Maybe now they’ll leave us alone. Find something more salacious to
gossip over.

  “What about what I want?” Devin asks.

  Ayden harrumphs. “Do you think either one of us is willing to put your needs over our own? You’ve left us no choice but to do this, and it’s best for everyone.” Ayden steers me away from Devin. “Just stay out of our way and we’ll stay out of yours.”

  Except, as the days pass by, it’s almost impossible. Where once I’d hardly see Devin in school, now he’s everywhere. We pass each other in the corridor pretending we don’t notice one another. He always seems to be at his locker, across the way, whenever I’m at mine. We arrive and leave the cafeteria within seconds of each other, as if we’ve planned it.

  Where once I spent hours holed up in my bedroom, with my nose pressed to the window, hoping for a glimpse of him, now I can’t avoid him. When I come out of my house each morning, he’s climbing into his truck. When I get home after school, ballet, or work, he’s arriving home at the same time. Turns out, ignoring your neighbor when you desperately want and need the space is a virtual impossibility.

  And it’s not that he’s staging it. I know him well enough to know he wouldn’t do that. While it’s obvious by the covert glances he sends my way that he’s hurting, and missing me as much as I miss him, he’s respecting my wishes, our wishes, and steering clear.

  The inevitable confrontation with Becky never materialized, but I’m not naïve enough to think she’s letting it go. No, Becky is a strategist and she’s taking her time, planning it meticulously to swoop in and strike at the most opportune moment. The longer she goes without acknowledging me, the more on edge I feel, and I hate that she’s getting to me. Even the sight of her sours my stomach, and I can’t get the vision of her naked rocking on top of Devin out of my head.

  During week two of my post-Devin new life, Lucas decides to begin a none-too-subtle pro-Devin campaign. While I know he means well, his intervention is both unwelcome and in vain. “I’ve never seen him like this. Like I think he’s clinically depressed,” Lucas says as we’re cleaning the kitchen after dinner on Wednesday night. Mom has already departed for her shift at the hospital.