Inseparable

by Siobhan Davis

The day flies by, and before I know it, darkness has descended, casting eerie shadows on the sidewalk outside. I’m absolutely shattered as I head outside at the end of the night, yawning and fighting to put one foot in front of the other.

  “You look exhausted, babe,” Ayden says, lounging against the side of his Jeep as he waits for me.

  “Hey, Ange,” Joshua Higgins says, nudging his head in my direction.

  “Hi, Josh. He roped you in as designated driver?” I guess, watching him flick the keys back and forth between his fingers.

  Josh grins. “Yep. I’ve been driving his majesty around town all day.”

  I bark out a laugh as Ayden removes my bag from my shoulder, tossing it in the back seat. I lean into Josh, pretending to whisper conspiratorially. “I think he’s secretly enjoying being so helpless and all his bitching and moaning is just an act.”

  “I think you could be right,” Josh says with a wink, jumping into the driver seat and powering up the engine.

  “You’re both hilarious,” Ayden deadpans. “Now get your cute butt in the back seat and let’s go home.”

  “Yes, sir, bossman.” I salute him, laughing as I haul ass into the Jeep.

  “Careful, Lina, or I’ll have to summon the tickle monster.” Ayden climbs awkwardly in beside me, and Josh floors it the instant he shuts the door.

  I grip the headrest in front to keep myself upright, alarm registering as Josh speeds up the road. “You wouldn’t dare,” I tell him.

  “Wanna bet?” Ayden’s clear blue eyes glisten with mirth.

  “Are you challenging me?”

  His grin turns wicked. “What if I am?”

  “As much as I’m game, you’re injured, so it’s not happening.”

  “Chicken shit.” He does a one-armed impression of a chicken while making repeated “bwok, bwok” sounds, and he looks ridiculous.

  Josh is howling with laughter in the front seat, and my lips are fighting a smile. I plant my game face on, purely for show. “Oh, it’s on, mister. It’s on like Donkey Kong.” I lunge for him the same time his good arm darts out, reaching for me, and I duck down, shrieking. Clamping my arms in to my body, I try to straighten up which is actually hard to do with your arms glued to your side. Ayden’s fingers creep along my waist, aiming for my armpit, and I scream, losing control of my arms as he tickles the crap out of me. I’m wriggling and writhing on the seat, trying to slip out of his reach while attempting to tickle him back, but he’s too strong, even one-armed, and I know defeat when I see it. “Okay! You win!” I screech, my body contorting like I’m possessed. “You’re the master tickle monster.”

  He laughs, pulling me into his side, and kissing my temple. “You’re such a glutton for punishment. How many times did we tickle the shit out of you as kids?”

  My mind inevitably goes there, and my laughter shrivels up and dies. Once they discovered how ticklish I was, Ayden and Devin used to gang up on me on a regular basis. I was fighting a losing battle every time, and I never once got the upper hand. They used to tickle me to death, and I’d huff and puff and pretend to be mad, but secretly I loved it. One time, I even peed my pants they were tickling me that hard, and they almost pissed theirs in return when they saw what they’d done to me.

  Devin called me pissy pants for a whole year after that. I try to laugh at the once funny memory, but it comes out as more of a strangled, anguished sound. Ayden has gone quiet too, and I know he’s reminiscing as well. I snuggle up beside him, leaning my head on his shoulder, hoping his closeness and his warmth can eradicate the omnipresent pain. “What was the gift?” he asks, his fingers toying idly with my hair.

  I catch Josh watching us in the mirror, and I don’t want to say anything in front of him. It’s not that I can’t trust him—although he’s on the football team, he’s not an arrogant douche like most of the players—I’m just not comfortable discussing it in public. Devin’s gift was hugely personal and so very special, and I don’t want to share that with anyone. Not even Ayden. “I’ll tell you when we get home,” I say, deflecting.

  Back at the house, Mom is still up, waiting for me to come in. “You look tired, honey.” She draws me into a bear hug.

  “I am.” I yawn. “It’s been a long day.”

  “Why don’t you two go into the living room, and I’ll fix us some hot chocolate?” she suggests, and I duly comply.

  I sit on the couch, flexing my neck from side to side, trying to loosen the tense kink. The atmosphere is undeniably strained.

  “You don’t want to tell me,” Ayden astutely supplies, leaning back in the recliner as he studies me carefully.

  “He gave me a picture. A drawing of me from last summer, and he wrote some stuff on it.” That’s about as much as I’m prepared to relinquish. As much as I love Ayden, and as much as the three of us were close, this is something intimate between Devin and me, and although we’re not even on speaking terms, it doesn’t seem right to show anyone else. He drew that picture, wrote those words, for my eyes only.

  His Adam’s apple jumps in his throat. “Oh.”

  The only sound in the room is the muted noise from the TV, playing absently in the background.

  “Have you changed your mind?” he asks. “Are you going to let him back in?”

  I chew on my bottom lip as I contemplate how to reply. Mom is humming a song in the kitchen, her soft, lyrical voice reaching us from here. “I don’t honestly know.”

  He stands up. “I miss him too, you know.” His earnest eyes pin mine in place. “But he’s not going to change.” He bends down, kissing my cheek. “I’m calling it a night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, Natalie,” I hear him tell Mom, “but I’ll take a rain check. I need to get home.”

  “What was all that about?” she asks, handing me a mug of steamy chocolaty goodness.

  “What do you think?”

  She pats my arm. “Things will right themselves. You’ll see.”

  I wish I shared her optimism.

  Ayden gives me a wide berth the next day, and I wish I knew what he was thinking. I spend all day considering my options, and by nightfall I know I’ve reached a point where I’m at least ready to listen to what Devin has to say. I peek out the window, but his truck isn’t there. I set up camp by the window for the remainder of the night, but Devin doesn’t return before midnight, so I head to bed, vowing to talk to him in school the next day.

  Jack Frost paid a visit overnight, and the roads are slippery and icy as I drive us at a snail’s pace toward school. Ayden is quiet this morning, and I hate that I might be the cause of it. We sit in the toasty car after I’ve parked and killed the engine, glancing at one another like we’re strangers. “This is ridiculous,” I supply, after a few minutes of unpleasant silence. “Just say what’s on your mind.”

  “He’ll only hurt you again.”

  “You seem sure about that, how come?”

  He sighs, pulling his hat off and running his fingers through his gorgeous blond hair. “Because he’s in a dark place, Lina, and he can’t help dragging others down with him.”

  I twist around to face him. “Then we can’t abandon him. He needs us more than ever.”

  An agonized look contorts his handsome face. Leaning forward, he stares out the window, lost in thought, drumming his fingers against the glove box. I wait patiently for him to process whatever is going through his mind. When he finally turns to face me, a look of steely determination has replaced the previous torment. “Can you just be his friend? Can you honestly forget what he’s done and just be there for him when the shit hits the fan? Because it will.”

  I toy with the hem on my shirt. “I can try.”

  “God, Lina.” Ayden palms my face. “You’re the best person I know. A far better person than I am.” Pain and self-loathing flares momentarily in his eyes before he disguises it. “I know you’d
still do that for him even though he’s hurt you.”

  I curl my hand around his face. “I’d do that for you too. In a heartbeat.”

  He presses his forehead to mine. “I know you would, babe.”

  A loud thud jolts us apart when someone slams their hand down on the hood of the Jeep. Brandon and Travis sneer at us through the windshield, making vulgar gestures with their hands.

  “Fucking asshats!” Ayden hisses, scrambling out of the Jeep.

  I hop out my side, racing around to his side before he does something he regrets. “If you have something to say, jerkoffs, just say it,” he demands.

  “We always knew you three were close, but we didn’t know you swapped her around. How does one go about getting on the roster?” Brandon rakes his gaze up and down my body. “I’m in the mood for some fresh pussy.”

  “Fuck you, asshole.” Ayden flexes his one good fist, veins straining in his neck.

  Josh and a couple of Ayden’s other football buddies materialize on the sidewalk. “If you have something to say to Carter, you can say it to all of us,” Josh coolly states.

  “Fucking douches,” Brandon murmurs, taking a step back. “Who died and said you were in charge? Lighten up, jerks. None of you know how to take a joke. As if I’d want to go anywhere near her prissy ass.” He sneers at me, and I plant a bored expression on my face.

  Ayden growls, taking a step forward. I put myself in front of him. “Don’t. He’s not worth it.” I twist around. “Get lost, asshole.”

  “Suck my dick.” He flips me the finger before sauntering off in the direct of the front entrance.

  “Thanks, man.” Ayden nods at Josh.

  “Anytime. He’s just pissed because …” Josh trails off with one sharp look from Ayden.

  “Because Dev gave him that black eye for spouting shit about me,” I finish for him. “Can we go?” I implore Ayden with my eyes. “I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

  “Here, take this.” He yanks the hat off his head, putting it on me. Hair covers my face, blocking my view, before Ayden brushes it aside, tucking it neatly under the edge of the hat. Josh and the guys look on in amusement, and my cheeks heat up.

  “Come on.” I pull on his arm, and he smirks, tucking me in to his side as we walk.

  “I cannot wait to graduate and not have to see half these people ever again,” I admit, stepping into the building. I whip the hat off, running my fingers through my hair, trying to tame my tangled locks. “I am sick of all this bullshit, and these people annoy the fuck out of me.” It’s as if every single person was waiting for me to arrive and has decided to watch my every move. More than three weeks have passed since the party, and I thought the interest levels had waned, but I guess that was wishful thinking. At least Christmas break is just around the corner, and I will have a welcome reprieve from being the center of attention.

  As we round the next corridor, Ayden yanks hard on my shoulders, swinging me back around. I look up at him, scowling. “What the hell? I think you just dislocated my shoulder.”

  Ayden takes my hand and starts pulling me back the way we came. I struggle with him, attempting to remove my hand and halt our retreat. “Ayd, stop. My locker’s the other way.”

  “Let’s ditch today. We can go ice skating.”

  “You have a broken arm.” I pin him with a “duh” look. “And you never ditch.” I don’t bother mentioning how clumsy he is on the ice because that doesn’t need to be articulated. I yank my hand from his, coming to a complete stop. “Wait up.”

  “Or we can grab a movie or drive out to Des Moines and go shopping.”

  “You hate shopping.” My eyes narrow to slits, and everything goes on high alert inside me. “What’s back there? What don’t you want me to see?”

  He makes a grab for my arm, but I sidestep him, slowly backing up, conscious that we have an audience, and that people are whispering in hushed voices. “Leave it, Lina,” he pleads. “Let’s just go.”

  I consider it for a split second, before spinning around and racing down the corridor. I won’t shy away from this. Ayden curses, and I hear the pounding of his footsteps following me. The crowd parts, almost collectively wiping their hands in glee. All they’re missing are buckets of popcorn and sodas. I don’t know what I’m about to discover, but I know it involves Devin and that it’s nothing good.

  When I round the corner, I blink in rapid fire succession, sure my eyes are playing tricks on me. But it’s no trickery. Becky is flattened against Devin’s locker, and his arms cage her in as he leans in to kiss her. She grabs his waist, pulling his body flush to hers as their lips lock. I slow my pace and come to a complete standstill. It’s as if the whole school has come out to witness this. Groups of students line the corridors watching my reaction with baited breath.

  Becky is making a meal out of this, moaning at the top of her voice and grinding her hips against Devin’s. She tilts her head, granting him access to her neck, and her triumphant eyes meet mine. Bit by bit, my heart starts shutting down, one wounded piece at a time, and a hard, thick, impenetrable, layer seals it tight, locking every emotion inside with it.

  Ayden laces his fingers in mine, and I look up at him, noting the compassion, anger and pain radiating from his eyes. I wet my dry lips. “You still up for ditching?”

  “Hell yeah.” His smile is tinged in sadness.

  “Let’s go.” I take one last look in Devin and Becky’s direction. Devin’s pained eyes meet mine, completely at odds with his body language. His arm is wrapped around Becky’s shoulder now, and she’s snuggling into his chest, gloating and preening for her adoring crowd.

  Well, she’s welcome to him.

  I’m done.

  Keeping a firm hold on Ayden’s arm, I turn us around and walk out of school without uttering a word.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Ayden and I spend the day shopping, watching movies, and eating a ton of junk food. He keeps an endless stream of chatter up, and I participate in the conversation but it’s half-hearted. Nightfall has descended by the time I park the Jeep in Ayden’s drive.

  I give him a massive hug, and he envelops me in his arms. “Thanks for today. You’re the best.”

  “Anything for my favorite girl.” He smooths hair off my forehead. “You want me to stay?”

  Yes. No. I don’t know. “Better not. Mom’s still on the warpath.”

  “Will you be all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Call me if you need me, no matter what time. You need me, I’m there.”

  I lean up on my tiptoes and kiss his cheek. “You mean the world to me, you know that, right?”

  “Ditto, sweetheart.” He tweaks my nose, and then we part ways.

  Mom has already left for the hospital, so I ping her a quick text to let her know I’m home. I texted her earlier, so she knew to expect a call from the school, and she sends me back a brief message letting me know she fixed everything with Principal Wells.

  My mom is the coolest mom on the planet.

  After taking a long, hot soak in the tub, I pin my wet hair into a messy bun on top of my head and wander to my bedroom to get stuck into homework. A loud rap on the French doors surprises me a couple hours later. I don’t look up. I don’t need to. I know who it is and I can’t believe he has the nerve to show up here. Red-hot rage replaces the blood coursing through my veins as I hop up and stalk to the doors.

  “Go away!” I hiss, opening the doors a tiny fraction. “I don’t ever want to see you again.”

  “Ange, please.” He throws out his hand, pushing the door open wider and forcing his way inside. “You need to let me explain.”

  “I don’t need to let you do anything, and I won’t listen to any more of your lies!” I shout, and he flinches. “I fucking hate you, Devin. I hate you more than I hate any other living thing.”

 
His fingers wind around my wrist. “Ange, I know you don’t mean that.”

  I jab my finger in his chest, nostrils flaring, veins pumped full of angry adrenaline. “Then I guess you know nothing, because I mean every word that comes out of my mouth. You disgust me. You make me sick, and, quite frankly, Becky is welcome to you. You two deserve each other.”

  “It’s not what it seems.”

  I snort with laughter, yanking my wrist out of his grasp. “I don’t want to hear it, Devin. I’m done with this. With you. I want you to get out and stay out.”

  He reaches for me again, and I lurch back, stumbling over my feet and falling flat on my ass.

  “Please, baby doll. Please let me explain.”

  I lose control of my tenuous emotions, climbing to my feet with my fists clenched. “I told you I don’t want to fucking hear it!” I screech, shoving him hard. He falls back, a look of shock splayed across his face. “I saw everything I needed to today.” My head whips around, and I’m racing across the room in a flash. Grabbing the picture he drew of me, I stomp toward him, shoving it in his chest. “And you can take this. I don’t want it.” I cast a glance around my bedroom, mentally picking out the things that belong to him. I dart around the room, picking up his sweaters, shirts, books, DVDs, CDs, and other stuff that belongs to him. His worn boxing gloves and the trophy he won at the Iowa High School State Boxing Tournament are added to my pile. His face is a mask of calm as he silently watches me dashing around the room like a madwoman. I return to his side thrusting my bundle into his arms.

  “If I find anything else, I’ll box it up and leave it on your porch.”

  “I don’t want this stuff. I gave it to you.”

  He tries to hand it back to me, but I step aside. “I don’t want it. I want no reminder of you here. I’m going to remove every trace of your existence until you are nothing but a figment of my rotten imagination.”

  Troubled eyes meet mine. “Don’t do this. I’m begging you. I need you to remember what I said. I—”

  “Do I look like I give a flying fuck?!” I holler, incensed beyond the point of rage. I shove him again, and the urge to hit something, hit him, is almost overwhelming. I’ve never been prone to violence, but I guess there’s a first time for everything. “Get out. Get out or I’m calling the cops. And don’t ever come back here again,” I threaten, vowing to get a lock on those doors, or to barricade them altogether.