by Beck, J. L.
“Don’t you dare ever put up a picture of her again. You don’t deserve to see her smiling face. You deserve death. It should’ve been you. It should’ve been you!” he screams, the sound splinters through me. For a long moment, he stands there staring at me like a bull ready to charge, and then out of nowhere, he turns around and leaves.
The door slams shut, and I jerk from the sound. Closing my eyes, I slide down the wall, my legs unable to support me any longer. My whole body shakes with each ragged sob that rips from my chest, and all I can do is wrap my arms around my legs and think of how right he is.
How it should’ve been me and not her.
7
Jackson
Another day of classes, and another night of misery. I thought the nightmares of not being able to save my sister had stopped, but it seems since that night at Kennedy’s house, they’ve gotten worse. I do my best to avoid all thoughts of Kennedy, but it’s hard when I’m doing everything in my damn power to make her life fucking hell.
I had every intention of making her give me a blow job when I went to her house, but that blew up in my face like a giant bomb of fucked up. When I saw that picture of Jillian and Kennedy, I was sucked back in time. The pain flooded into my chest, every ounce of it poured like rain from the sky, making it hard for me to breathe, and all I could do was react.
“Dude, what the fuck are you thinking about? Been getting pussy that’s worthy of daydreaming about or something?” Talon pokes fun beside me as he shoves chips into his mouth.
I look down at the tray of food I got for myself. None of it looks appetizing right now.
“I’m not daydreaming, asshole. I just don’t have anything to say.”
“Sure, if you say so.”
A group of girls walk into the cafeteria, their voices carrying across the room, and I cringe at the sound. It’s like nails on a chalkboard. Girls are good for fucking, but that’s it. At least the ones I end up meeting. They aren’t the type I would ever bring home to my parents. If my mom knew half the shit I did, she would have a stroke.
“Crystal is looking at you like she wants to take a spin on your dick.” Talon elbows me in the side just as I lift my eyes, confirming exactly what he said. The girl looks like she wants to suck me off, right here, under the table.
I snort, “They all want to fuck me, what are you talking about?” Just then, Crystal and her group of friends start walking over to our table. Inside, I want to stab myself in the eye with a fork to avoid talking to her, but on the outside, I plaster on the smile that makes panties disappear and prepare myself to make her swoon. Maybe I can get her on her back to help take some of the ease out of my balls. All the taunting and bullying of Kennedy leaves little time for getting laid.
“Jackson, Talon,” she greets us, batting her eyelashes. It looks like something might be in her eye, but I don’t say anything. That’s not going to get her to sit on my dick. Girls like assholes but only if they’re half assholes, not full ones.
“Crystal, how are you?” Her face lights up with joy. I’d met her a couple times at house parties but only knew her by association, so I’m guessing she didn’t expect me to know her name.
“Uh… I’m good. My girls and I were wondering if you were going to be at the party the football team is putting on?”
Talon and I exchange a look and shrug. “I guess it depends if you and your girls are going to be there.”
Crystal licks her lips, and I bet she’s picturing herself on my dick right now. Her friends are looking at me like they want to eat me too. Maybe I’ll do a two for one special.
“Uh, duh, we’ll be there.” Crystal smiles, but it does nothing for me.
“Then we’ll be there too, baby,” Talon purrs.
The girls nearly clap their hands together like a group of kids excited for dessert.
“Okay, well, guess we will see you then.” Crystal drags her teeth over her bottom lip, and fuck, she’s trying to get me to chase her.
All the joy in the room deflates when I spot a blonde head of hair, that’s connected to a slim body, walking into the room. It’s not illegal for her to be in the university cafeteria, but it’s not common. I’ve never seen her eat on campus.
Crystal and her friends are still standing in front of us, but now that Kennedy is here, those girls seem so mundane and plain. They are nothing in comparison to Kennedy, who is still the prettiest girl here, even without makeup and a scar on her face. I ban that thought from my mind as fast as it popped in.
Wanting to kick myself for even thinking about her like that, I watch her hips sway, her tight little ass looks so plump in those yoga pants.
Like a radar on me, she turns in my direction. Our eyes lock in a battle of wills, and as if she’s seen a ghost, she drops the apple in her hand, spins around, and walks out of the cafeteria.
I can’t help it. I smile. Mainly because I didn’t have to do a damn thing to make her feel uncomfortable. Simply being here is enough to scare her away.
When she disappears from view, Crystal and her posse have taken a table about fifteen feet away from us. I can feel her eyes on me, watching me, but I don’t look at her. Instead, I stare at the spot Kennedy was just standing at, almost willing her to reappear there.
“Who is that girl?” Talon asks, forcing me to look away from that spot and back to him. I contemplate telling him that she’s no one, but it doesn’t hurt anyone other than Kennedy if I tell him what really happened. The knowledge is out there, free for anyone that searches for it.
“Her name is Kennedy. She killed my sister.”
“Wait… What? She killed your sister? How is she walking free? Shouldn’t she be in jail?” The disgust in Talon’s tone only encourages me to tell him more.
“She should be, but the judge thought otherwise. She got off with a slap on the wrist if you ask me,” I sneer, doing my best not to remember that day in court. How distraught and heartbroken she looked. Fake, it was all fake to avoid jail time.
“How? How did it happen? I mean… you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I just can’t believe that girl killed someone. Like… murder?”
“Might as well have been. She went to a party with my sister. Both of them were drunk. They called me to pick them up. I was with a girl. I told them I would be there soon, but Kennedy didn’t want to wait. They left, she drove the car and wrecked it halfway home. My sister was ejected. She died instantly.” It kills me to even talk about it. My chest feels heavy, and the words come out slower. I hate that the last memory I have of my sister is telling her I would be right there and then not coming soon enough. I was busy fucking some chick that didn’t mean anything to me. I didn’t even talk to Nicole afterward. I should’ve been there that night, but I was thinking with my dick.
“Fuck, man. That’s… that’s fucked up. I can’t believe she is here, going to school and that you haven’t murdered her yet.”
I smirk. “It isn’t without a shit ton of restraint, but yeah. So, now you know.”
“I’m sorry about your sister. I know it doesn’t help, but figured I’d say it.”
“It’s okay. She’s gone, and I can’t bring her back. Nothing to be sorry for.”
“I know, but you’re my friend, and I’d be an asshole if I didn’t say it.”
The feeling in my chest is too heavy. I need a subject change. I look down at my clenched fists, feeling the blood pumping through my veins, itching for a bit of violence.
“Call up, Franco. Tell him I want a fight. The bigger the guy, the better.”
Talon raises his brow in question. “You sure about that? You took a pounding last time. I’d prefer if I didn’t have to use a spatula to peel your body up off the bottom of the pit.”
“Just do it. Tell him to set it up, and then spread the word around campus. Get everyone to come.” I’m already giddy, simply thinking about it. Talon pulls out his phone even though he looks reluctant about doing so. I watch him type up a text and hit send, then I
get up and grab my tray. Walking over to the garbage can, I toss my stuff into it and head back to the doors that lead outside.
“Where are you going, man? You didn’t even eat,” Talon calls.
“Not hungry,” I tell him with a shrug and walk out the door without looking back.
Pausing for a moment, I stop to think where Kennedy may have gone. All her classes are done for today. Obviously, she came to the cafeteria to eat, and since she didn’t do that, my guess is that she’s most likely going home.
Starting in the direction of Kennedy’s apartment, it doesn’t take me long before I catch up to her. Her shoes slap against the wet concrete as she walks down the sidewalk like she is trying to outrun something. Can’t outrun me, baby.
I follow closely behind but not close enough to draw her attention.
She maneuvers around a group of guys heading toward her, hugging the left side of the sidewalk, maintaining an even amount of distance between them and her. A light drizzle falls from the sky, making my shirt damp. The smell of rain surrounds me, and as we come up to a crosswalk, I see the red do not walk sign blinking.
Kennedy either sees it and doesn’t care or doesn’t notice. I don’t know which one it is, but the only thing that matters to me in that instant is reaching her fast enough. A van barrels down the road, heading straight for her. My heart clenches in my chest, fear pulses through my veins as I see it happen in my mind. Acting without thought, I reach out before the image in my mind can become a reality. Gripping onto the back of her shirt, I pull her back just as her foot touches the lip of the curb.
The van races by, laying on its horn while Kennedy’s back slams into my chest. Instinctively, I wrap my arms around her. Before I come to my senses, I lower my head and bury my nose in her hair. For a few seconds, I allow myself to inhale her sweet floral scent that’s mixed with the smell of rain. Just this one time, I tell myself.
Shifting in my arms, she looks up at me, fear written in her features. I want to shake her for being so stupid. For not paying attention. Does she want to die? Why wouldn’t she look up before crossing a busy street?
It occurs to me then that I could’ve lost her. I could’ve lost my last piece of Jillian. It makes me aware of the fact that, though not much, I do care about Kennedy enough that I don’t want her dead.
“You saved me,” Kennedy whispers, almost breathlessly. Her pink lips are parted, her hair is damp, and her cheeks rosy with embarrassment or maybe shock.
Snapping out of it, I release her. “Are you stupid? Why would you walk out into a busy street when the sign was blinking red?” I force the fear out of my voice and replace it with anger. It’s not fake either. I’m furious. Why would she do that?
“I…” Her bottom lip trembles and tears well in her hazel eyes. I can almost see the old Kennedy in there. The girl I would do anything for. She’s close, almost within distance, and yet so far away, I won’t reach my hand out and grab her. I don’t want to go there. I don’t want to feel anything for her. I don’t want to care about her.
Sneering, I take a step back. “Pay the fuck attention to what you’re doing. I can’t torment you if you’re dead.” Distance is what I need right now. I don’t really care about her, it’s just my sick obsession with getting revenge that has things twisted.
Kennedy exhales, her chest deflating. “What… What were you doing here? Were you following me?”
My lips tip up at the sides in a half-smile. “I’m always following you, Kennedy. Always watching you. Pay attention,” I tell her one last time before shoving my hands into my pockets and walking away. I leave her standing there because the alternative isn’t something I want to face right now. Kennedy can’t matter to me. She can’t become anything more than revenge. Not now, and not ever.
8
Kennedy
I replay the moment in my mind over and over again. The van almost hit me. Just another step, and I would’ve been gone, my life over. I still don’t know how I feel about it. For a long time, I felt like I should die, that I would do anything to trade spots with Jillian. I’ve never feared death. Instead, I’ve always hovered on the verge of welcoming it… until now. Since that almost hit the other day, I don’t think I want to die anymore.
Even more confusing is the fact that Jackson pulled me away when I figured he would have been the one to give me a push. Why did he do it? Why didn’t he just let me walk into the street? Isn’t that what he wanted… me dead?
“That’s it for today,” Mrs. Bay says, dragging me out of my thoughts, dismissing the class. “Assignments are due next week. Don’t be late because if you are, I’m deducting ten points for each day.”
I grab my book and notebook and stuff it into my backpack before getting up from my seat. Walking out, I spot two girls who were sitting beside me in the classroom. They spent most of the class gawking at me and whispering to each other. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were looking at my scar. I should be used to it, especially now that I’ve stopped wearing makeup, but I don’t think I ever will be. The reminder of it all hurts too much.
Shaking it off, I walk past them and out the door, but not before I hear one of them say, “I heard she wrecked her car while driving drunk. Killed someone too.”
“She should be in jail, not college...”
Their words steal the air from my lungs. How do they know about the accident? About Jillian? Pain slices through me, but I force my legs to keep walking. The ground moves beneath my feet, and suddenly I feel like I can’t get away fast enough.
Holding onto the straps of my backpack with an iron grip, I start running down the hallway until I burst through the doors leading outside. I run and run until my lungs burn and my legs cramp up. Until I’m gasping for air, and my vision becomes blurry with tears. And even then, I continue running because if I stop, I’m afraid of what might happen.
* * *
I have to force myself to go to my next class. At least I had four hours between my little breakdown and now. Even though I feel like my eyes are still puffy from crying, I walk into economics class with my head held high. No one seems to notice me as I walk in, which is fine by me. I don’t want to draw any attention to myself. Taking the last seat in the back row, I pull out my book and notepad and set everything out neatly in front of me.
Grabbing my pencil, I tap it against my notepad anxiously.
I really don’t mean to eavesdrop as I wait for the teacher to start the class, but when I hear Jackson’s name come up in the conversation between two guys sitting a row ahead of me, I stop tapping the pencil and listen instead.
“Why would he fight again this week? He only had a fight last week, and he never does more than one fight a month,” one guy says, searching through his backpack for something.
His friend shrugs. “I don’t know, but I’m telling you, Jackson is gonna fight Boris tonight, Franco made a big announcement last night. I want to go just to see how crazy it is.”
The first guy finds whatever he was looking for and slumps down into his seat. “Boris? That guy is huge, and he fights dirty. Brings knives and shit. Jackson is gonna get his ass handed to him. Fuck, he’ll be lucky if he comes out of the pit alive. Boris is crazy, and he’ll do anything to win.” The pencil slides from my fingers and rolls off the table. I should probably bend down and get it, but I’m momentarily petrified.
Fear has its hold on my throat, making it hard to breathe. Jackson is going to get hurt. Why would he get into fights like that on purpose? Why would he put himself in danger like that? Doesn’t he know all it would take is one hit to the head, and he could die?
Does he want to die?
The teacher starts the class, but my mind is somewhere else. I can’t focus on anything that is being said. All I can think about is this fight that Jackson is going to be in with this Boris guy and how dangerous it all is. I know he hates me, and he has every right to do so, but I don’t hate him. Maybe I thought I did. I wanted to, but I never did… I’m not sure I could,
even if he scares me and tries to make my life hell. The last thing I want is for anything to happen to him.
I need to warn him.
Now the real question is, will he listen to me? I doubt it, but I have to try.
The class flies by even though I don’t listen much to what is being taught. I’m too busy trying to figure out how to find Jackson. I don’t have his number, and I don’t know where he lives. I guess my only chance is to go to that place the pit and hope I catch him before it’s too late. He’ll either hate me more or thank me. Either way, it’s a risk that I have to take.
When class is dismissed, I tap the guy in front of me on the shoulder. I try to hide how nervous I am when he turns, giving me a questioning look.
“Hey, sorry… I overheard you earlier. Ah… talking about the fight? Where exactly is that at?”
The guy raises a skeptical eyebrow at me, and for a moment, I don’t think he is going to answer me at all. “The pit. It’s in an old warehouse in the industrial park.”
“Oh, okay. Thank you.”
His friend has also turned around and is looking at me now. I can feel his eyes burning into my face.
“Want me to take you there?” the new guy asks, giving me a wide smile. “I’m going anyway, so it’s not a hassle.”
“Thanks, but I’m fine,” I say while gathering my stuff up. “I’m not sure if I’m gonna go yet, it’s not really my kind of scene.”
The guy frowns. “It starts soon. You sure you don’t want to come with us?” He’s good looking, and obviously cares about his classes since from the looks of it, he’s been taking notes all hour, but I don’t want to make friends, much less get a boyfriend, and I know if I said yes, even for a ride, that’s what he would think. That or sex, which isn’t going to happen.