His eyes flicker to my lips, then back up to hold my eyes hostage. I feel my pulse pick up and my breathing turn irregular. And then suddenly I can’t think, and I can’t breathe, and my heart has never pounded so fast in my life; all because Aiden is kissing me.
Aiden is kissing me, and all is right in the world.
All my stress, problems, and worries melt away with the softness and intensity of his lips on mine. Everything around us ceases to exist as I focus on the warm, tingling fire stemming from wherever he’s touching me and spreading throughout my entire body.
I feel his strong hands on my waist, pulling me closer as his tongue slides over my bottom lip, and I practically melt into him. Never has anything been this perfect. Never have I wanted something so badly. Never has someone kissed me in such a way—my heart can’t decide if it wants to stop or speed up.
There’s an annoying nudging at the back of my mind, reminding me that I’m not allowed to feel like this; that I’m not allowed to be happy with Aiden. Reluctantly, I pull away to look at him.
“Fine. Since that was such a great argument, I’ll keep the money. But I’m not spending any of it on me,” I joke to break the intense, intimate silence that follows.
Aiden laughs, releasing me, and I regrettably remove my leg from where it was over his.
“It’s your money, you can spend it however you want,” he tells me.
“I’ll find a way to spend it on all of us. Like a treat for having to deal with all this drama.”
As much as I’d love to stay here and make out with Aiden all night, it’s getting late, and I’m getting tired. We say good night, and he reminds me that my car will be ready by Monday morning.
“Thanks again for everything, Aiden.”
He walks down the porch steps and takes slow steps backward toward his car. “I’ll see you later.”
I stay where I am, standing on the porch with the envelope still in my hand, and wrap my arms around myself, suddenly feeling very cold.
“Are you sure about the money?” I ask one more time, just to be sure.
“Keep it.” He turns around and walks the rest of the distance to his car, and I stand there watching him.
He gets to his car door and opens it, pausing to turn back to me. “Don’t forget to study for the calculus test on Monday,” he says with an adorable smirk.
I smile back at him. “How could I possibly forget?”
20
All night and all morning I feel like I’m floating on cloud nine. Aiden just has a way of making me feel giddy and nervous all at once. He won four thousand dollars for me for goodness’ sake. Still high off of the different emotions Aiden causes, I walk through the house after seeing Charlotte off this morning.
“Amelia,” my mother calls from the kitchen, not sounding too thrilled.
I freeze and roll my eyes at her disapproving tone.
“Come in here,” she says impatiently.
I sigh and walk into the kitchen where she’s standing with her arms crossed, a stern look on her face.
“You got in late. Where were you all night?”
“Out,” I say nonchalantly.
She exhales loudly, clearly frustrated. “Well, what time did you get home?”
“Not sure.”
“Why are you being so difficult? You need to be more responsible,” she lectures unnecessarily.
My hands curl into fists, my nails biting into my palms. “This is the first time you’ve actually been home in who knows how long,” I snap, tired of her “caring parent” act. “You spend more time at work and in different countries than with your own daughter. You normally wouldn’t even know if I was home or not, you just happen to be home today. So spare me the concerned mom act.”
“This isn’t just about me being concerned about your whereabouts. You need to be responsible. We can’t have you slipping up! I may not be around a lot, but I notice things. Things like you kissing that boy last night—”
“Were you spying on me?!” I can’t believe she’d do that! That’s an invasion of privacy!
“I’m your mother. It’s not spying if you’re my child—especially if said child has a lot at stake. You’ve been screwing up. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that your car isn’t here. Where is it? And did you even sleep here Thursday night?”
I stare at her, my face blank. I slept at Charlotte’s, but my mom wasn’t even home. I didn’t think she’d notice.
I’m spared having to answer when she continues. “Look, I’ve met someone, and I don’t want to have to move again. You know that Tony’s looking for you, and here you are going around doing whatever you want, with whoever you want, whenever you want!”
My face heats. “Well, that’s hypocritical! You can have a boyfriend but I can’t?”
“No, you most definitely cannot. What do you even know about this boy? He’s not the one you can trust with your life, Amelia. I am. You shouldn’t be getting close to people.”
“But you—”
“Who’s the adult here? I can do whatever I want because I know how to prioritize our needs.”
My world is shattering. “Well, maybe you should move in with your new boyfriend and forget about me altogether! Out of sight, out of mind right?”
She takes a calming breath, her face sobering. “I’ve called Agent Dylan.”
The agent assigned to my case. The one who handles our questions and IDs and moves.
“Okay? And?”
“I’ve told him that I want to be relocated.”
I freeze. Everything freezes. My heart stops beating and all the blood drains from my face.
“But—but you can’t just do that!” They can’t relocate us! Not now! “You just said you had a boyfriend! You’re willing to just leave him?”
“Keeping us safe is more important. Plus, I can just take jobs on flights to the Northeast to see him.”
She’s cold and detached from this whole conversion, like she’s not just dropping a bomb on my life.
“Mom, I’ll be more careful. We don’t need to leave,” I plead in a last-ditch effort.
“Agent Dylan thinks it’s for the best too. We need to keep you safe from Tony.”
“Then they should just catch Tony instead of moving us around all the time!” I snap.
She sighs. “You know it’s not that simple. We need to move before people get hurt, or worse. It’s only a matter of time before he shows up. We can stay ahead of him this time. They said it’ll take a couple of weeks, maybe after New Year’s—”
I can’t deal with this anymore. Her, this conversation, the finality in her tone. Not giving her a chance to say anything else, I turn on my heel and stomp up the stairs.
Great. Leave it to my mom to ruin my happy Aiden high. I slam my bedroom door as if that will make me feel better, but her words are eating at me. Is she right? Am I slipping up in my responsibilities? Will I hurt my friends if we don’t leave?
I have a major crush on Aiden, no use in denying it. He’s starting to mean so much to me, more than anyone ever has, making things so complicated. Even last night, I was thinking about the L word. I’ve never thought about that word in relation to any boy before. Of course I know I don’t L word Aiden, but it’s scary to think how easily and quickly I could. Aiden deserves better than me.
Opening my closet door, I pull out the shoebox again and look through all the stories and articles, from my dad’s accident to Sabrina’s death. I read through all the articles about my kidnapping and about “Isabella” and “Hailey.” I look at all the death threats and evidence showing that Tony has always found a way to find me and torment me before trying to kill me. I look at my past fake IDs—all from different states—and the real one, and think about how I’ve had to keep moving and separating myself from the people I’ve met in each place. I secretly photocopied my ID
before we left the first time, and have done so every move since because it’s hard letting go of a piece of me every time Tony comes after us.
That’s why I keep this shoebox—as a reminder. To remind me that Tony will never give up hunting me down. That I can’t slip up or get too close to other people because I’ll eventually have to leave them.
My friends, everyone, even Aiden. They’ve all found a way to sneak up on me and find a permanent place in my heart. I’ve never had friends who mean as much to me as they do, not even from before the accident. They’ve been there for me; they’ve supported me and defended me. They make me laugh and smile and just generally make me a happier person. They shouldn’t be so open and honest with someone who’s done nothing but lie and be deceitful to them. I wipe away some tears that managed to escape.
My heart breaks all over again. Is my mom right? Is staying selfish? Should I do the responsible thing and get out before Tony finds me? Before my friends inevitably get hurt? I can leave before I get even more attached than I already am. The truth is as plain as the words on those newspaper clippings: I can’t stay here. But I can’t leave either.
But what I want doesn’t matter; it’s already been done. I’m leaving, probably after the New Year if that’s what my mom was saying before I stormed out. That gives me a month or less with my friends.
21
Monday, December the first. Today is an important day for many reasons.
First: I had a stupid calculus test (which I actually sort of understood). Second: I finally got my car back (the new tires and paint job look spectacular). And third: it marks a month until I leave this town and my friends forever.
There are also many reasons why today is an awful day.
First: because of Dave punching me in the stomach last Friday, my stomach has a giant, ugly bruise on it (which is only sore when I walk, move, or breathe). Second: Aiden isn’t in school to give me the keys to my recently fixed car. And third: it marks a month until I leave this town and my friends forever.
Since Aiden’s not in school, I don’t tell everyone about my idea of how to spend the money—I don’t even tell them that Aiden gave me the money. Of course I will, but I want to do it with everyone here, and the group doesn’t feel complete with Aiden missing.
No one else knows where he is, either, but the guys just assume he’s pissed about Ryan calling the cops on Friday. I don’t think that’s the case though. I talked to him on Friday, and he seemed okay with it. It was Aiden who said that the guys would calm down with some time, and they did. They’re (thankfully) no longer fixated on revenge, but they do shoot glares whenever Kaitlyn and friends walk past us.
By the end of the day, I’m still thinking about Aiden and why he isn’t here. I sent him a few texts throughout the day, but he hasn’t replied. Come to think of it, I haven’t talked to him since Friday night.
I’m searching my locker, in case Aiden slipped the keys to my car in here. Finding nothing, I sigh, slam my locker shut, and turn, only to jump when I find Mason standing right where my locker door used to be.
“What the hell, Mason?!” I hold my hand to my frantically beating heart.
He chuckles and offers me an unapologetic smile. “Sorry, but you looked so preoccupied with finding your keys I couldn’t resist.”
I shoot him a glare but can’t keep the straight face. “Did Aiden text you where my keys are?”
“Nope. Haven’t heard from him.”
“Urg! I just want to get out of this hellhole!”
Mason offers me a million dollar smile. “That’s why your best friend is here to drive you home.”
I look around, then back at him with a straight face. “I don’t see Noah anywhere.”
Mason scowls. “I meant me.”
“I know—that was for scaring me.” I laugh. “Thanks for the offer.”
Mason’s eyes soften as he looks at me. “Anytime, k-bear.”
We walk side-by-side in comfortable silence through the halls, but I can tell that Mason wants to tell me something by the way he keeps shooting me glances when he thinks I won’t notice.
Having enough of his “stealthy” glances, I sigh and stop walking. “What is it, Mason?”
He looks away from me and fidgets, which is so unlike him. Mason’s always confident and a bit egotistical, so it’s weird to see him uncomfortable like this.
“Mason?”
“How are you?” he blurts, taking me off guard.
“Good?”
He shakes his head, clearly not satisfied with my answer. “No, I mean, like, how are you?”
“I’m good?” I imitate his emphasis.
He huffs in frustration. “Look, I know I promised to forget it so that we could be friends again, but I just wanted to apologize again for leaving you alone at the Tracks, which caused you to get jumped. I need you to know that.”
“I know, Mason. We’re over this. I forgave you, remember?”
“No, I know,” he adds quickly, his brown eyes still filled with guilt. “But I want to make sure we are good.”
“Of course we’re good.”
“Wait.” He stops walking again and turns to face me, causing me to stop and roll my eyes in annoyance.
“When you slipped and said that Luke saved you, did you mean . . . ?”
“Yes, it was that Luke,” I reply, referring to Annalisa’s brother Luke. “Mason. It’s not important. Let’s just go, I’m starving.”
“Does Anna know?” he asks, clearly not done with the twenty-one questions.
“No one knows. And we’re going to keep it that way.”
“Not even Aid—”
“Especially not Aiden. We’re keeping the same deal as before, Mason. I forgive you, and in return, you drop it and don’t tell anyone. I meant it when I said I don’t want any fights breaking out over me. Aiden knows that I met Luke at the Tracks, but not the circumstances of our meeting.”
“If Aiden finds out about it, and I didn’t tell him, he’ll be furious.”
“He won’t find out,” I promise.
Since it’s been a while since school let out, there are not a lot of people left in the parking lot. This makes it really easy to spot the black Challenger parked beside my car, with Aiden himself patiently leaning against it.
“Guess you don’t need a ride home. I’ll see you later?” Mason says.
“For sure. Thanks anyway, Mason.”
He and Aiden exchange that bro head-nod thing across the parking lot, and Mason heads the opposite way to his SUV.
As I head over to Aiden, a mixture of emotions swirl inside me. I haven’t seen or talked to him since Friday night, and I can’t believe how much I’ve missed him.
“Hey, I can’t believe you skipped the calculus test,” I joke to break the ice once I reach him.
Aiden doesn’t react, doesn’t even look amused, he just straightens up from where he’s leaning on his car. “Here are your keys.”
He holds out his arm, and I look at my keys, dangling from his hand.
“Sure, thanks,” I say, confused by his hostility as he drops the keys into my hand.
He nods and turns around to go, but I quickly grab his arm to stop him.
“Hey, are you okay?” I drop my arm and look at him, concerned.
“Peachy,” he says, voice laced with sarcasm and annoyance.
My eyebrows draw together. “Aiden, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, Amelia.” But his tone leads me to believe that something is, in fact, wrong.
“Aid—”
“I’ve got to go,” he interrupts me, and this time I don’t stop him as he turns, jumps in his car, and takes off.
Aiden’s never like that, especially not toward me. Something has to be wrong. Maybe he’s stressed about the whole no more Tracks thing? Maybe he’s worried about w
here to find money? No, he was fine with it when I asked him about it. He was fine when we talked at my house on the porch that night. It was after—oh my God. I knew it. He totally hates me.
I ruined everything. He regrets kissing me. My heart tightens, like someone has plunged their hands into my chest and is slowly squeezing.
I can’t have him hate me. I know when I leave he probably will, but that day is not today. Stubbornness and impulsiveness driving my actions, I hop in my car and drive in the direction of Aiden’s house. He’s going to talk to me whether he likes it or not.
Even though I spend the whole drive to Aiden’s house running through a mental checklist of all the possible things I could say to him, when I walk up to his front door and ring the bell with a determination I didn’t know I had, my mind suddenly blanks. Of everything. Why am I even here again? Maybe I should just leave before I make things worse.
No.
Deal with it, Amelia. Aiden is practically the best thing in your life right now and you are not going to let your stupidity ruin it. But what could I even say to him?
I stopped kissing you because I’m not really Amelia Collins, and I’ve been lying to you and everyone else since day one. Oh, and I’m going to relocate to a different state in less than a month and never have any contact with you again. So, like, friends?
Yeah, let’s not do that.
Before I can gather my thoughts, Aiden’s sturdy oak door opens. My breath catches, my body’s automatic response to Aiden, but it quickly realizes something’s off. I look down from where Aiden’s head should have been and see the face of a curious nine-year-old boy staring up at me.
Caught off guard, I stutter, “Um . . . hi.”
The blond-haired, blue-eyed boy tilts his head to the side, analyzing me. “You’re pretty.”
My mouth opens in a surprised smile, taken aback by his unfiltered, blunt words. “Oh, thank you!”
She's With Me Page 23
