by NV Roez
I start to try again when I hear a ski patroller and thank the heavens for this small grace. I use my energy to scream for help, and ten minutes later, I’m out of the well and laying on hard snow.
The patroller checks me for injuries. Nothing is broken, but he insists that I go to the infirmary and I profusely decline. It’s bad enough he had to touch me at all.
“Please, I’m fine. I’ll sign whatever waiver you want, but I just want a hot shower and a warm bed.”
The sun is just peaking over the horizon, which means I've been out here all night and I desperately need to get out of these clothes.
Reluctantly, he gets me on the snowmobile-led trailer bed and rides toward the lodge. While I’m being pulled like a kid playing on a sled, I search my pockets for my smart phone and find it. It’s not only completely dead, it’s shattered.
I don't have proof, but I have a pretty good idea who pushed me, and that bitch better not be at that damn hotel. She better pray to whatever deity she believes in that I'll be too exhausted to do damage. Because right now, with the fiery ache in my muscles and the pain from simply breathing, I'm going to murder someone with my bare fucking hands.
We get to the main building and the patroller helps me off the trailer. With every step forward, my anger rises to a new level, and I'm at a boiling point by the time I get to the front doors.
"OH. MY. GOD. Evelyn Marie Hawton, where the fuck have you been?" Celeste shrieks, running towards me as I walk into the lobby.
She looks like a mess with her hair in a messy bun, pale skin, and red-rimmed eyes. I have no idea what gets into me, but I laugh.
"What the hell is so funny? I have been worried sick about you, asshole. You've been gone for a fucking day!"
"I'm sorry. You just look how I feel, so I can only imagine what I must look like right now."
My anger is suspended as she hugs me desperately. Her tiny body trembles in my arms, and I realize that she genuinely cares about me. That thought alone thaws my frozen heart a little.
I have an actual fucking friend.
"Well, you look like shit, Evie. I tried to get the hotel to call the police, but Genna told them that she saw you leaving in a cab, and Elijah said that you've disappeared before. That—and I quote—'she has a history of running away'. What the hell happened?"
And just like that, I'm furious again and all my physical pain momentarily subsides as adrenaline races through my body. I step back from Celeste to see Justin and the rest of the Knights standing at the edge of the lobby, but no Genna.
My rage is palpable in the air and everyone takes an involuntary step back.
Good.
I walk past Celeste, towards Caleb. He’s got his hands in pockets, shoulders slouched, and his beautiful hazel eyes are deeper and on the bluer side today.
"You see, Celeste, what happened was that someone decided to push me off the fucking mountain," I growl out, loud enough for everyone to hear, my eyes never leaving Caleb's.
He has the nerve to look apologetic.
Fuck him.
I move closer to him.
"Funny, don't you think? Where's Genna, Caleb? She didn't want to join in making fun of me as I dragged my hypothermic ass back to the hotel, or were you all hoping that I would just die already? Tell me, Caleb, has my debt been paid now?
“Were you enjoying another orgy while I lay unconscious in the middle of nowhere last night?"
I can feel the wrath seeping out of my body, recalling the memories from the other night, the dejection and feeling of worthlessness, watching them get off without a care in the world.
I step closer to Caleb, forcing him back against the wall.
"Wait a second, Evelyn, I—"
The sound of his voice pushes me over the edge. I swing my fist, right jab to his jaw, wishing I was strong enough to break it.
I don't give a damn what he was going to say. I am not a goddamn victim and I'm done playing nice.
I turn my burning glare on Elijah.
"There is a special place in hell reserved for you, Eli. I am not the little girl you threw away and I sure as hell don't run away." I speak low and steady, deathly calm.
It sucks to see the foggy clouds thick in his eyes, muddling my senses, and no matter how angry I am, they knock me down a step.
I don't know if it's because I spent all my adrenaline on punching Caleb, or if my injuries are finally catching up to me, or that he's always been able to take my breath away, but I have no more fight left, just pain.
Lucky for me, he doesn't speak.
I spare a glance at Micah, who looks pained and embarrassed, but I have no words. There's nothing else left to say.
My head is throbbing again and I need to lie down.
Justin must see the exhaustion on my face. He catches me, right before I pass out for the second time in less than twenty-four hours.
18
"What do you hope for in the New Year, Ivy?" I ask my sister as we walk down the alley, on our way to the beach to meet up with Caleb, Elijah, and Micah.
"For you to be happy," she says, squeezing my hand.
"What makes you think I'm not?"
"Are you telling me you are?" She smiles, giving me a knowing look.
I haven't been happy in five months, since our parents died, and she knows it.
"Are you happy, Ivy? I mean, really happy? How are you okay without them?"
"I'm not okay without them, but I get to wake up every day knowing that I have you. Life's happiness is found by appreciating what we have, Evelyn, not what we've lost."
"Hey, ladies, you made it," Micah shouts, running across the sand, beer in hand.
The boys got here before we could make it out of that wretched home for orphaned children. They started a bonfire for us and brought snacks for our little private New Year's Eve party.
We all sit around the fire. Micah on my right, Ivy on my left, while we eat the sandwiches the boys brought, downing beers and laughing at Elijah's stupid jokes. We watch him run around the fire while he tells some ridiculous story that makes no sense whatsoever.
I swear, the kid couldn't sit still if you paid him.
"Do you miss them?" Micah whispers, almost hesitantly, while he stares at the burning flames in front of him.
"Yea, I do. But a wise woman once told me that life's happiness isn't found by looking at what we've lost, but about appreciating what we have." I smile into the flames, knowing that my sister caught the 'wise woman' part even if I didn't get what she said exactly right.
"I know I should be happy that Stephen was willing to take me in, but damn, I miss my mom so much. I can't help but feel guilty that I miss her more than my dad. But he was a goddamn pedophile, or so they say, and I can't wrap my head around it."
I look at his sad eyes, knowing exactly what he's feeling, not having a clue about how to help him. Ivy moves to sit next Micah and grabs his hand without saying a word.
That's my sister, ever the caregiver.
After a few beers and all the snacks are gone, Caleb stands up to talk to our motley crew.
"Okay, so I say that we play spin the bottle to bring in the New Year. We let the bottle pick who we should kiss."
"Deal, but I make the rules," I quickly call out, a sly grin spreading across my face.
They all look at me like I've grown a second head, and I let out a chuckle. I rarely take charge of anything.
"Um, okay, sure. What rules could you possibly add? Spin the bottle, kiss the person it lands on," Caleb speaks to me directly, puzzled by my request.
"Right, I know. But, if you spin the bottle and it lands on, say, Elijah, you have to kiss him. We play equal opportunity spin the bottle, or we don't play at all," I challenge back.
I look around and see the moment the boys comprehend what I'm saying. They calculate their odds and immediately back out.
That's what I thought.
"Oh, I don't know, Evie. Maybe it would be fun," my sister says, shocking the he
ll out of me.
I know for a fact that she isn't interested in boys in the slightest. Why on earth would she want to play this stupid game?
Since Ivy wants to play, we play, because there isn't anything we wouldn't give her. But I do get them to agree to the equal opportunity part, so it's a win.
With just the five of us, the game is pretty quick. Caleb kisses my sister, she kisses Elijah, Elijah ends up having to kiss Micah—which is hilarious—Micah kisses my sister, and I kiss Caleb.
We countdown to midnight with our feet in the water, holding hands, staring into the darkness where the horizon should be, silently giving the ocean our deepest secrets. I try to let go of the pain of missing my parents. These four people, right here, are my family, and I finally feel whole.
"Guys, will it always be like this?" I whisper, in a moment of seriousness.
"If you mean, will Elijah always be a dumb fuck and will I be the master of the universe, then yes. Will we always spend New Year's Eve together? Of course we will. Will we always have each other? Also, yeah. This is our family," Caleb replies, holding my hand a little tighter and looking at Micah.
He's always making sure that we're alright.
We say goodbye to the ocean and go to clean up our mess. We may be kids, but we respect the beach. Ivy comes up to hug me, wishing me a happy New Year, and I can see happy tears glistening in her eyes.
"See, I can be happy," I mock her. "I love you, Ivy. Promise me, you'll never leave me." I hug her.
"I promise, Evie. It will always be us," she whispers and hugs me back.
19
"No, she's not okay, Micah. She spent the night unconscious in the middle of the woods, freezing and bleeding from being pushed down a fucking mountain. Who the hell would be okay after that? No, you can't come in. She's still sleeping. And before you ask, the answer is no. I will not tell you when she wakes up, I will not keep you updated, and I will not tell her you stopped by. You three assholes and your little bitches need to leave her the fuck alone," Celeste whisper-yells at the threshold of my hotel room.
"Cele, I'd like to talk to Justin. Can you, at least, ask him to come to the door?" Caleb sarcastically demands.
"Fuck you, Caleb. I don't care what you say, what happened to her is your fault. I don't give a flying rat's ass what you want. So, no, I won't get Justin," she snaps back and successfully slams the door in his face.
I woke up the minute I heard the knock on the door, but I've been pretending to still be asleep on the sofa.
When Celeste turns around, I can't stop the smile crawling across my face, even though I'm desperately trying to keep my eyes closed.
"Get up, bitch. I know you're not sleeping. Even if you weren't, I wasn't letting those pricks in."
"I don't deserve you," I murmur.
"No, you don't, but you have me all the same," she says, sitting by my feet at the end of the sofa, her eyes shimmering with affection.
"Now, what do you want to do for today? I'd ask you to go to the hospital, but I know that's a lost cause. They are having a New Year's Eve party downstairs later tonight or we could head back to school. What does my Evie want?"
"I want a shower, food delivered, and for you two to go have fun. This is your first New Year's Eve celebration together. Don't let what happened to me hold you guys back. I'm sure Justin had planned something special for you, Cele." I smile.
I appreciate her, but I genuinely want to be left alone and hope she can see it in my eyes.
Celeste and Justin left for the hotel's New Year's Eve social a few hours ago, despite the numerous complaints from Cele about not wanting to leave me alone. With them gone, I was left to take a glorious shower that I might just have to take again.
Feeling refreshed, I pour myself some rum with a hint of cola from the mini bar and sit by the window, appreciating the mountain views as the memories of my childhood creep up on me, and this time, I don't fight it.
"I miss you, Ivy," I whisper to myself, rubbing on one of the orchids on the ivy tattoo on my wrist. "You promised me it would always be us. You promised you'd stay, but you left me."
Sigh.
Promise. What a useless fucking word.
I take a long, satisfying sip of my drink, letting the alcohol burn a trail down my throat, and keep talking to my glass.
"It's empty here without you, sis. I miss the sappy, romantic stories you used to make up; the way you used to laugh at the dumbest shit. I miss the way you'd hold my hand, even when I didn't want you to, and how you always had my back. I even miss the lectures about being a better person. But I'm not a better person, am I? You were always the better one. You were the good in my life, Ivy. It was you that I appreciated, though I sucked at actually telling you that. How do I find happiness now?"
I have no one left.
I take a deep breath in, holding on to every good memory, and slowly breathe out, letting it all go. I raise my glass in a salute that only my ghosts can see.
"Happy New Year, sis. Take care of Mom and Dad."
I sit with my now empty glass, contemplating if I should get another one or take another long shower when there's a knock on my door.
I absentmindedly open it, thinking it might be room service—a gift from Cele—but it's not.
"Micah."
No other words come out of my mouth. There is nothing left to be said. And for a second, I wonder if he's remembering that New Year’s Eve night on the beach all those years ago. But it's just for a second until I remember that I'm not supposed to care and move to close the door.
He raises his hand to stop the door from closing. "Wait! I just wanted to make sure you were okay, to see if you needed anything," he says sheepishly, his ocean blue eyes looking at me through his long, dark lashes.
"I may be a lot of things, but weak isn't one of them, and I'm not broken. I don't need you to fix me, cure me, or comfort me. In fact, I don't need you or anyone else at all. Go away. We were kids, making promises we had no way of keeping. Let it go, Micah, for everyone's sake. The only thing I need right now, is for you to leave me alone." My voice is steady despite the war inside my heart.
"See, I told you. The bitch is fine. We shouldn't even be here," Elijah sneers, leaning against the wall, dressed like sin with his black jeans and black button up, sleeves rolled up to show off his tattooed forearms.
Shit, I hadn't noticed he was there.
"What the hell is your problem, Elijah?" I counter. "We aren't friends, sure, but I'm not your goddamn enemy either. You don't actually have to be an asshole. Just stop existing in my space and act like a fucking stranger."
His jaw clenches as he stares at me with gray eyes reflecting a coming storm, swirling with fiery rage and disgust. His muscular arms tighten across his chest and he briefly looks at Micah before turning and simply walking away without another word.
"What is his problem?"
"I could say it's because he believes you had something to do with Ivy's death, but I don't think that's true, at least, not anymore. The truth is, Angel, he loved you. I think you might be the only girl he's ever tried to give his heart to, and you shoved it back in his face. You don't know what it's been like for him, for us, without you and Ivy over the years."
Cue the eye roll of the fucking century.
"Oh, don't give me that shit." I scoff. "YOU guys are the reason I was locked up. YOU guys are the ones that abandoned me. And from the look of things, your royal highness, you guys have been doing just fine. And let's not forget the bitch Barbie squad at your beck and call to take care of your every need."
My veins pulse with venom.
"I'm sure life's been REAL tough. You seem to forget that I lost my parents, my home, my twin, my life. I lost everything. I had to fight through the depths of hell just to get here. What did you have to do? Let Uncle Stephen pay your way? Walk the red fucking carpet with pliant servants at your side? God, that must have been tragic," I say, unable to contain my venomous hatred towards the universe, towards
them.
His ocean blue eyes are drowning with grief and misery, but I can't be the one to save him.
"And you, Micah, do you still believe I hurt her?"
"No, but you were still gone," he whispers.
"And around the hamster wheel we go. Good thing life's happiness isn't found in looking at what we've lost. It's about appreciating what we have, remember?"
"That's true, Angel, but the difference is, we don't really have each other anymore, do we?"
I deflate at his words. So much for nothing more to say to the asshole. Why the fuck did I even bother?
"No, Micah, we don't," I whisper back. "Goodbye."
I softly close the door on him, not waiting for a response, because I can't continue this conversation. The organ in my chest is being crushed, squeezed to death by an iron fist. I fight the tears that are threatening to fall and crawl into bed, holding tight to the pillow.
I will not cry for them.
I mentally take a quick inventory of my body. I'm not actually bleeding, even if it feels that way. My organs are still functioning.
This pain will go away, right?
I start my breathing exercises to calm my mind and let out a sigh.
Happy New Year.
20
I knock on Dr. Weaver's office door and his admin lets me into his vacant office. I hate that I have to be here—even if I do get credit—just because I didn't agree to see Dr. Lewis more often.
I sit, staring at the clock on his desk, waiting for him to grace me with his presence.
"Ah, Ms. Hawton. So glad you were able to meet. Sorry if you were waiting long, I had some pressing work that I needed to clean up."
"It's fine, Dr. Weaver. If you want, I can always just come back next month."
"Nonsense. I made a commitment to you, just as much as you're making a commitment to me."
He takes out his handkerchief to wipe his glasses and sits behind his old mahogany desk. Once he's done and replaces his circular-lens glasses back on his face, his smile is gone.
