by Tijan
Stephanie’s malice had started to wane, and her forehead wrinkled as she began to frown. “I mean, come on.” She glanced around for support.
There was none.
I didn’t look, but I could feel the somberness creeping over the room. Anyone who had thought this was going to be funny didn’t seem to anymore, and if it wasn’t because of me, it probably had to do with Ryan, and the whole group that stood behind us.
“It’s obvious your sister was popular, and you’re . . .” She tried to sneer at me. And like everything else, that too failed.
“I’m what?” I raised my chin higher. “Mourning such a deep loss that I hope even you will never feel anything like it? Healing? Trying to keep going? Forcing myself to go forward because my family needs me? Because I’ve found people here who love me and support me, and I need to keep going for them? Is that what I am?” I raised my voice, grating out, “Does that somehow make me less than you? Less than anyone else in this room? Or maybe, just maybe, that makes me stronger than you? That makes me a goddamn survivor, when trust me, the thought of joining my sister is sometimes easier than breathing.”
I was letting everyone see my insides.
All these months of not talking, and it was spilling out.
I could feel their surprise. It was in the way Ryan tightened his hold on my hand before letting it relax. The way the whole crowd seemed to waver, and the way Stephanie’s eyes widened, and the blood drained, finally, from her face.
I turned to my two ex-friends and burned them with the same look of hatred I had for Stephanie. “How dare you come here. How dare you bring that video to a party. How dare you befriend someone you knew wasn’t reaching out with my best interest at heart.”
Zoe and Gianna blanched, but their mouths opened. I didn’t let them speak. I kept going.
“How dare you turn your back on me? How dare you—just, how dare you?”
I didn’t care why Duke or Serena were there, but I turned to them anyway. “Willow would hate you for this, and you know it.”
Serena hung her head, but Duke surged forward again. “It isn’t like that. I mean . . .” He gestured to Stephanie. “She said she was your friend.”
Zoe and Gianna stepped forward, right behind him.
Zoe tried to smile at me. “We felt bad after you left, Kenz.”
“And what Duke said is right. She reached out to us, saying she was your friend.” Gianna glanced at Stephanie. “You haven’t been on social media. I’ve been sending you messages almost since you left, but you haven’t been getting them.”
Because I was using Willow’s account.
“We didn’t know who you were friends with. Honestly, we had no idea. We aren’t here to hurt you.” Zoe started crying. “We really aren’t.”
I shook my head.
Ryan spoke over my head, “You thought showing a video of her sister at a high school party was a good thing?” His tone was hard, biting. “How the fuck do you make that right in your head?”
“We didn’t—” Duke started.
“The laughter should’ve been the first clue!” Ryan cut him off, moving ahead of me. “Her face should’ve been the second.” He jabbed a finger in the air toward Stephanie. “She looked goddamn evil when we first came in. If the other stuff hadn’t sunk in, that look should’ve had you scrambling to turn the goddamn machine off!”
“We—”
Zoe interrupted Gianna, her shoulders sinking down. “We weren’t thinking. You’re right. We weren’t thinking.”
“I was hoping it’d all be okay,” Duke said. “That’s what I was hoping. But I swear, Mackenzie, we didn’t come to hurt you. We came to apologize.” He glanced to the others before placing his hand to his chest. “Or I came to apologize. You tried to talk to me after the memorial service, and I blew you off.” He gestured to Willow’s ex-friend. “Serena and I both did.”
“It’s just hard—”
I nodded, speaking before Serena could say more. “To see her when you look at me? To hear her when you talk to me? Trust me. I get it.”
“You didn’t expect her to stay, did you?” Erin stepped out of the crowd and folded her arms. She looked right at Stephanie, who had tried to blend in with her friends. “You thought she’d come in, see them, see the video, hear the laughter, and then run away crying? That was what you thought would happen, wasn’t it?”
Stephanie’s friends melted away, leaving her standing alone. She glared at them before facing Erin and then me. “To be honest, I was going to say everything Mackenzie guessed. That the wrong sister died, that Willow seemed like the better of the two. It’s obvious from the pictures. So yeah.” She jerked her head higher. “I was going to use the weapon she gave me, and destroy her with it.”
She turned to me. “Imagine my surprise when I found out you hadn’t been talking to your friends from home, and that Willow’s boyfriend and best friend were dating. I mean, you were asking for it.” Her eyes trailed to Ryan, pausing a beat before looking away.
“Because of him?” I dropped his hand, moving around him.
“Yeah!” Her head flared up again. “He’s ours! He should be dating one of us, not you! Not someone who . . . you’re mental! I’ve heard you talking to yourself in the bathroom. You freak out in the classrooms like you’re nuts or something.” Her hands went to the sides of her head. “You don’t deserve him. You . . .”
My head tilted to the side. “I what?”
“You . . .” She gulped and then shrugged. “You aren’t good enough for him.”
Her words should’ve struck me at the core.
They didn’t. Not this time.
“You’re too late to make that stick. A week ago, I would’ve agreed with you.” A hollow laugh left me. “I wouldn’t have left him since I’m selfish enough to need him, but now I think you’re wrong.” I glanced up, seeing my shadow over my projected self. Willow was laughing, and when I leaned back, moving my shadow and letting the full picture hit the wall, there I was, laughing every bit as hard as she was.
“You’re the strong one, Kenz,” said Robbie’s voice.
“You were the superstar in everything,” Willow said. “You just didn’t know.”
“You were what we needed. You were our anchor.”
“You’re wrong.” I looked right at her. “I am good enough; I’m better than you’ll ever be.”
And taking Ryan’s hand again, I left the room. He followed. As did Erin. Cora. Tom. Kirk. Pete. Nick.
I was told later that almost everyone followed us out.
Stephanie Witt never had the same clout after that party.
She still had friends, but she wasn’t popular anymore.
Erin became more of a friend to me, and somehow she almost took Stephanie’s place at school—except for the bullying. I was very adamant that she couldn’t do that, and she agreed.
She still somehow managed to rule with intimidation, though.
Cora and Kirk became exclusive after that party.
Nick and Pete hit on Zoe and Gianna before moving on to hit on other girls. There were no more wrestling matches, that night.
And Tom and Peach kissed, blushed, and held hands whenever they could.
The next day, I met Zoe and Gianna for breakfast before they went home. It still hurt that they hadn’t been there for me in the beginning, but they’d been a part of my life for so long, and they loved Willow too. Plus, I was trying to be someone Willow would have been proud of. Yes, she’d told me so many times that she was proud of me, but I didn’t fully believe her. I was still trying. And that meant meeting Duke and Serena too.
It was harder to talk to them than it was to talk to Zoe and Gianna. They knew Willow in ways I hadn’t: as her friend, as her cheerleading accomplice and confidante, as her lover. And seeing them unable to hold back tears unleashed mine as well.
It was an awkward feeling to sit in that booth, first with Zoe and Gianna, and then with Duke and Serena as we all cried. But we were all
mourning Willow, and for that I was grateful.
I was surrounded by people who loved her too. This was how it should’ve been from the beginning.
After that they all went back to Arizona, but I did talk to Zoe and Gianna more regularly.
And as for me and Ryan, well . . .
Five months later
Two hundred fifty-three pieces later
With his mouth fused to mine, Ryan pushed me back against the shower wall. Our hands clasped together, and he pinned them above my head before bending to my shoulder and scraping his teeth against my skin.
I gasped as he plunged into me.
He took my weight, and his left hand let go of mine to drop to my thigh. He gripped me there as he sank even deeper inside me.
God.
This guy.
Pleasure built and built low in my belly, and I used my free hand to hold on to him, sinking my fingers into his hair.
The shower beat down on us, but Ryan shielded me, taking most of the water. A slight mist coated my face, and as I drew in oxygen, I drank in some water too.
We had been together for almost a year. In forty-three days, it’d be the anniversary of Willow’s death—the same day I’d first crawled into Ryan’s bed. I’d gone through hell this last year, but he’d been with me the whole time.
I trailed my fingers down his back, feeling his muscles shifting as he thrust in and out, keeping a steady rhythm.
He bent forward, dropping his lips to my nipple and sucking.
I closed my eyes, feeling desire and the momentum building in me. I wanted him. I wanted him harder, deeper, and in the whole year, that hadn’t lessened. If anything, I craved him more and more. Like tonight—we were going to prom later, but I’d stepped into the shower, knowing I had to feel him before we endured a night of mere touches and the whisper of being together.
All eyes would be on us.
All eyes would be on him. He’d be voted prom king, which was no shock to anyone. There was a prom queen, and there were rumors it would be me, but I doubted that. I’d only moved there a year ago. It didn’t seem right, even though I was Ryan’s girlfriend. I wasn’t the most liked girl in the grade. But knowing everyone would be watching Ryan made me almost desperate to feel him first. I wanted to remind myself that he was mine, only mine. I wanted to feel him moving inside me, and I wanted to see him watching me the way he did when he took me at night.
I looked up to find him watching me once again.
His eyes were dark, heavy, primal.
Adjusting our bodies, he lifted me higher against the shower wall and began going harder. He was claiming me.
Pulling my hand free from his, I wrapped my arms around his neck, bending forward to kiss his throat.
He groaned, the sound rumbling deep, as his other hand found my hip. He slammed me against the tile, going harder and rougher.
I laid my head back, gasping in more breath as I tried to ride with him, but this was for him. He held me captive as he ground into me. An onslaught of pleasure assaulted me, and I sank into it. Hell, I felt half-drunk from this. All I could do was hold on to him until I felt my climax coming.
“Ryan,” I gasped. My fingers bit into his back, my nails scraping his skin. “I’m going to come.”
He slowed, grunting. “Not yet. Not.” Thrust. “Goddamn.” Thrust. “Yet.” Thrust, and then he tensed, his hands tightening on me to almost bruising pressure. “Now.” And he exploded.
I let go, the climax crashing into me, making my body jerk and shake.
He held me the whole time, waiting until both our bodies had calmed before carrying me out of the shower. My legs remained wrapped around his hips, and I clung tightly to him and rested my head on his shoulder.
He ran a soothing hand down my very wet back and took me into my bedroom.
“Fuck.” I sighed as he laid me down and then eased out of me.
He laughed, skimming a hand down my side before following the motion with his lips.
I ran my hand through his hair and then down his shoulders and arms as he moved back up, bracing himself above me. His eyes found mine, still so dark.
“You okay?”
I nodded. “Yes.” My hand cupped the side of his face. “I’m good. You?”
He nodded, falling down to kiss me again before settling onto the bed next to me. “Shit.”
“Yep.”
“I don’t want to go tonight.”
I laughed, curling on my side and kissing his shoulder. “Ship’s sailed on that one, Prom King.”
He groaned again, catching my hand and tugging me until I straddled him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
I matched his grin, both of us still riding the wave we’d just created in the shower. I was naked, and as his eyes trailed down my body, I tipped my head back. My hair had grown longer over the last year. I didn’t have the heart to cut it. Willow always kept hers long, and I wanted it like hers tonight, though mine was darker. I felt the tips of it grazing my back, and it felt nice, but more than that, I enjoyed the feel of his eyes on me.
I knew, even before looking, that they’d be lust-filled, dark, carnal. As if on command, I felt him twitch under me again. He was growing hard, and unable to stop myself, I reached down for him.
“Holy shit, Mac.” A guttural moan ripped from him, and he tensed under my hand. His hands went to my hips, but he didn’t move me. I had him in the palm of my hand.
I began to rub him, making him even harder. “So if you’re named prom king, we both know another girl will probably be prom queen.”
He began to pant heavily as I stroked his length. “Can we talk about this some other time?”
“No.” I grinned, enjoying the power I had over him. I touched the tip of him, pausing there. “You’ll have to dance with this other girl.”
“Goddamn, Mac.” His chest rose up and down. His eyes were starting to go wild. “I’m going to get you back. You know that.”
I was hoping for it.
I kept sliding my hand over him. “And when you dance with this other girl, you aren’t going to like it.” I held him, squeezing just slightly. “Right?”
He was almost trembling, and he shook his head. “No. Hell no.” His fingers sank into me, flexing. “Keep fucking going.”
So I did, but this time, I scooted back and bent to take him in my mouth. His entire body paused, his hands in my hair. I could’ve kept going, but I didn’t want to torture him. At least not yet. I’d wait until after the dance, after Kirk’s after-prom party when we were alone again. Then I’d torture him all night long.
He didn’t wait long. Once my mouth settled over him and I began moving up and down, his hands fisted until he was ripping me away. He flipped me over, and grabbing my leg, he raised it over his upper arm and then slid inside, sheathing himself deep.
I sucked in a breath, letting the air out through my teeth at the sensations. Goddamn. That felt so good.
“Now you were saying?” He smirked at me, pushing deeper in before sliding out, only to go back in.
I sighed, letting the waves of torment roll in, and a half hour later, after he put on a condom, he had me whimpering and biting my lip to keep from screaming. Then my entire body went slack.
Afterward, he curled against my body and kissed my neck. “There’s no one else I want to dance with,” he whispered, his hand palming my breast. “It’s only you.” He kissed me again, his thumb grazing my nipple. “Only you, Mac.”
I already knew this. I’d known this all year, but it felt good to hear because I felt the same. There’d be no one else.
Closing my eyes, I murmured, “Good, because I love you.”
His arms tightened around me. “I love you too.”
Thirteen pieces just fit back together, all at the same time.
Chapter Forty-One
“Your hair is so much darker now,” Cora said, putting her eyeliner down on the counter.
We were getting ready at my house. Ryan had lef
t, going to dress at his place, and he’d texted not long afterward to say the guys were already drinking there.
“Yeah.” I pushed up some of the loose tendrils, patting them back into place. It wasn’t that much darker, but I had put more brunette coloring in it. There were still some blonde, but I didn’t want to look exactly like Willow tonight. I wanted to be me, and as I gazed in the mirror—I was me. I was Willow, but I was me too.
“And Ryan cut his hair short. I can’t believe he did that. He’s always had it where he could make it all messy.”
I didn’t smile; I heard the envy in her voice.
Cora was happy with Kirk, but she’d been harping on him to cut his hair too. Once she saw Ryan’s new crew cut and how ridiculously hot it made him look, she started in. She hadn’t been the only one. Peach had jumped on the bandwagon, asking Tom to cut his hair. Both guys refused, letting their hair grow even longer. Kirk’s had grown to just past his ears, and Tom was closely resembling a shaggy dog these days.
Ryan had cut his for the summer. He was starting a new basketball training camp, and he didn’t want to deal with too much hair and heat. I’d liked his messiness too. It always looked adorable on him, but I couldn’t deny the spark I felt when he got back from the haircut place. It made him seem so much more grown-up, more of a man.
“Erin said Stephanie Witts is hoping for prom queen.” Cora lifted her hand, inspecting her nails.
She missed the slight wince I couldn’t contain.
It wasn’t the prom queen thing. I didn’t want it, but it’d become a sore spot over the last month. Erin, Cora, Peach, and all of their friends had been campaigning for me to win. I told them not to, but I knew they kept doing it. So, I started telling people to vote for Cora. She was the one who really wanted it, and after her transformation this year—from being one of the shiest girls in our grade to one of the most well-liked girls—she deserved it.
Not me. That was for sure.
