“Thanks.” Things between Prescott and I are better now. I don’t know if it’s all because of Ava, but he’s not the same asshole he was when I first met him.
“Hey, Charlotte.” Tatum approaches me as Prescott walks away. He rubs the back of his neck and gives me a crooked smile. “I was wondering if you wanted to dance? That’s if your boyfriend doesn’t mind.” He nods and I follow his gaze across the room where Spencer is talking to Yates and Georgia.
“Sure.” I take Tatum’s arm and he leads me onto the dance floor.
He’s a bit clumsy, his large body meant for playing football, not ballroom dancing, but I can tell he asked me not to show off his dance moves, but to talk. There are still things between us, wounds that may never heal. And I know I hurt him more than once.
“How have you been?” we ask at the same time.
I laugh. “I’m good. Better now that we know who was creating the blogs, and who ran me off the road.”
“Yeah. I’m glad Decan’s behind bars. Wish Winslow was there too for what she did to you.”
“I don’t think she’ll be a problem anymore.”
“That’s good.” He moves me around the dance floor, a frown tugging at his lips. “I want you to be happy, Charlotte. I wish I could say that’s all I ever wanted, but you know that’s not true. I’ll always...care about you.”
“I know. And I am happy. I know you and Spencer haven’t always gotten along—”
Tatum grunts. “That’s the understatement of the year. But I can see how much he loves you and for that, I can respect him. But if he ever hurts you...”
I chuckle. “I know you’ve got my back.”
“So we’re good?”
“Yeah, Tatum, we’re good.”
He gives a hard nod as the song ends, then leans over and kisses my cheek, before turning and walking away.
It’s weird, but as I watch him, I feel like it’s some kind of ending. And maybe it is. Tatum will always hold a special place in my heart, but things between us have changed.
I frown when I see Jill walking toward me, her eyes filled with worry, lips thin.
“Did you see her? Daphne?” Jill glances around the room and shakes her head. “I was talking to Prescott. We had our backs turned for just a second and she disappeared.”
“Did you check the restrooms?” I follow Jill back out into the lobby.
“Yeah, she’s not there.”
“She’s not outside, either,” Prescott says as he approaches. “Maybe she got a car herself and left.”
“Maybe,” I mumble. But something doesn’t feel right. And if the last few months has taught me anything, it’s to trust my gut. I’m going to find her.
17
Spencer
“Shit,” Yates says. “Don’t look now, but trouble is coming.”
I wince when I see Winslow walking toward us. She smiles at Yates and Georgia, but neither of them return it. She’s burned too many bridges, and she won’t find any friendly faces here.
“Spencer, I was hoping...” She’s flustered, and her usual confidence is gone. “Can I speak to you alone?”
I glance at Yates and Georgia and nod. They both frown at Winslow before walking away.
“What do you want?”
“To apologize.”
I grunt and take a sip of my scotch. “You’re apologizing to the wrong person. It’s Charlie you owe—”
“I know. But I don’t think she’s willing to talk to me. If you could tell her...I was a bitch.”
“You were worse than that. You did real damage.”
“There’s no excuse for what I did, but I was grieving. I loved you, and Ethan...” She sniffs. “When I heard on the news what he did. God, I can’t believe he kept that from all of us. No wonder he was such a mess.”
“Ethan dug his own grave.” The words might be callous, but it’s how I feel right now. “But that’s what happens when you let sin fester. It eats at you until you’re nothing but the guilt and shame inside you. That’s what drove him off that cliff.”
“I thought...” She chews on her bottom lip, her eyes going distant for a moment. “After the accident, I thought for the longest time that it was my fault somehow. I saw the darkness in him, the way he used drugs to try and fill the emptiness. I wanted...I tried, to be the person he needed. But I couldn’t...”
“His death wasn’t on you.” I understand the guilt she felt, I’d believed it myself. Thought if I’d only been a better brother, if I’d pushed him to get help, that maybe he’d still be alive today. “Ethan made his choice.”
She nods, then dabs her fingers under her eyes. “I guess we’re all responsible for our own choices.”
“We are,” I say, my voice hard.
“I know you’ll never forgive me.”
“No. That’s where you’re wrong, Winslow. I forgive you.” The Michaels taught me that important lesson. Decan’s lack of, and his parents’ complete forgiveness. One destroyed while the other healed.
“Really?” There’s hope in her eyes, and she starts to move toward me. “Spencer, I promise—”
I hold my hand out, stopping her. “I forgive you. But I’ll never trust you again. This is our last conversation. I don’t want you anywhere near me or Charlie. If there are family get-togethers, you don’t go. Do you understand?”
She sucks in a shaky breath. “Yes.”
“Goodbye, Winslow,” I say before turning on my heels and walking away.
I hear her soft sob behind me, and maybe at one time it might have pulled at my emotions, but now I feel nothing for the woman who had been my first everything. Now I scan the room for the woman who will be my last, my future, my tomorrows.
She’d been dancing with Tatum, but she’s no longer on the dance floor, and when I hear a commotion in the lobby, I feel a tickle of premonition at the nape of my neck.
“What?” I ask Prescott as he walks toward me, frowning.
“We’ve got a situation,” he says. “It’s Daphne. She’s drunk out of her mind. And we can’t find her.”
“Just tell me Charlie is safe.”
“Yeah, she’s right there—” He stops when he looks over his shoulder. “Shit, she was...”
The pressure builds in my skull, and I try to stop the anxiety that builds in my chest. Everything is fine. Daphne is just drunk. Winslow has been put in her place, and Decan can’t hurt her anymore.
But then I hear the shouting, and I know I was right. “There’s someone on the roof and they’re going to jump.”
18
Charlie
As soon as I hear the people screaming, I know it’s Daphne on the roof. I don’t think, I just take off, rolling my ankle as I push through the crowd and find the stairwell, taking two steps at a time. I’m out of breath by the time I reach the fifth floor and push through the heavy metal door that leads to the roof.
For a heart-stopping moment, I don’t see her, and I fear that I’m too late. That she’s already jumped.
Oh god, no.
But then I hear a small sob. Off to my left, Daphne is standing on the ledge of the roof, her heels are off and her gown whips around in the wind. The stars are out, and it should be a magical spring night - not this. Not Daphne taking her own life.
I want to scream, to run up to her and drag her off the ledge, but I know any sudden movement could have her falling forward.
When she staggers slightly, I suck in a breath.
“Daphne,” I say softly, moving slowly toward her.
She glances over her shoulder at me, black lines of mascara streaking her cheeks. “You can’t stop me...it’s too late...”
“I don’t know what’s going on, but we can fix things. Whatever it is. Let me help you.”
She shakes her head violently, and almost loses her balance. “They...they said that she was still alive...”
“Who?” I take another step closer.
“The girl. On the news. They said she was alive. He told me...he said...” A gut-wrench
ing sob rips from her chest. “He said she was dead. And we just left her...”
Ice fills my veins. “Daphne. What are you talking about?”
Her words are mixed with her sobs and I can barely understand her words. “He said he loved me. He...” She hiccups. “He was my first.”
“Who?” I ask, even though I’m pretty sure I know the answer.
“Ethan. He was so...handsome. Remember how I told you I lost someone freshman year?”
My heart pounds as pieces come together in my mind. “Were you...were you in the car when he hit Shannon?”
Her expression changes. It’s like all her emotions have been ripped from her, and the girl who stares back at me is void, numb, empty. When she speaks again, her words are monotone. “He said he’d ruin me if I told anyone. He would have. And I thought...I didn’t know the girl was still alive when we left. I would have called an ambulance... would have stayed.” She staggers slightly, and I hear the gasps and cries of people below. “I killed her.”
“No.” I take another step toward her. “You didn’t. Ethan did.”
She shakes her head. “I can’t live with it...not anymore. I see her body lying on that road...I called Ethan after, but he threatened me...”
“You sent Spencer the recording?”
“I wanted him to know. Wanted everyone to know. But I was too afraid. Even after he died, I didn’t know if the Becketts would come after me. No one would believe...”
“It’s okay.” I’m close to her now, almost close enough to grab her hand and pull her back. “We’ll figure it out.”
She turns away and I see her start to take a step off the ledge.
“Daphne,” I scream as I reach for her, my fingers grasping material. She falls back toward me, her limbs hitting at me wildly, pushing me away, and then I’m falling.
My bare arms scrape on stone and cement as I tumble over. My gown catches on something and I hear the material rip as I grasp for something, anything to stop my fall.
People yell and cry below me.
“Charlotte,” Daphne shouts above me, her arm extended to me. “Take my hand.”
My fingers slip slightly on the ledge I’m holding onto, and even if I could reach her, I know neither of us has the strength to pull me up.
I was a fool to think we’d all find our happily-ever-after. I’m hanging on for dear life, my eyes filling with tears as my fingers slip.
This isn’t how the fairy tale was supposed to end.
19
Spencer
As I burst through the steel door at the top of the building, I watch Charlie fall over the edge of the roof and it’s like it’s happening in slow motion. She screams and so do I as I race to the ledge, knowing I’ll never make it in time.
By some miracle, Charlie is hanging onto a ledge, but she’s too far down for me to reach her.
“Just hold on,” I yell, not knowing what to do.
“Spencer,” Charlie cries. “I can’t...Oh, god...Please...”
“I’ll get you, just don’t let go.” I have no idea where Prescott ran off to.
“She’s going to die!” Daphne sobs and every fiber in my being refuses to believe it.
No. Not the woman I love. Not now, after everything we’ve been through.
I pull my jacket off, ready to climb over the ledge myself. It’s not a great plan, but I don’t know what else to do.
“What are you doing?” Daphne gasps as I swing one leg over the ledge.
“Spencer, no...” Charlie cries out.
A huge crowd has formed below us, and I can hear sirens in the distance. Already a cop car is pulling up to the curb. They’ll be here in minutes, but Charlie’s fingers keep slipping and I know she doesn’t have minutes.
“I’m going to try and grab your arm,” I tell her.
“You’ll fall.” Charlie’s eyes are wide with fear.
We’re four stories up. And when one of her shoes falls off, bouncing off the stone masonry that juts out of the building and landing on the hard cement below, a vision of Charlie’s body doing the same slams into me.
Fuck.
Straddling the ledge, I hold on with one hand and reach for Charlie with the other. My fingers brush hers, but I’m still too high to reach her.
Tears streak her cheeks. “Spencer.”
The police are out of their cars now, probably inside the building, but Charlie’s fingers keep slipping. She’s barely hanging on by the tips of them, and there’s blood around her nails from digging into the stone.
“I can’t hold on...”
A window smashes below me, and I see Prescott below using his jacket to push away the jagged edges. He’s only a couple feet from her.
“I’ve got you,” he says, stepping out onto the ledge, and wrapping an arm around her waist. “Let go.”
Charlie whimpers looking up at me before releasing her grip and wrapping her arms around Prescott’s neck.
I don’t think I take a real breath until Prescott is helping her through the broken window. Cheers below float up, and as grateful as I am that Charlie is safe, anger seizes me as I glance over at Daphne, who has sunken into an emotional heap of tulle and tears.
“What the hell were you thinking?” I growl out, grabbing her arm and pulling her up and away from the ledge so that she can’t try anything stupid again.
“I’m sor-sorry...I didn’t mean...never meant to hurt anyone...”
I know I should feel some sympathy for the girl, she was up here wanting to end her life, but the fact that she put Charlie in danger has the Neanderthal in me beating my chest.
“Just want it all to end.”
“For fuck’s sake, Daphne. You think anything ends when a person kills them self? They just make life a living hell for the people they leave behind.”
The roof door opens, and two police officers come through, followed by Prescott and Charlie.
I let the police deal with the still sobbing Daphne and open my arms to Charlie who falls into them. “Can you please stop fucking scaring me like that.”
She sucks in a shaky breath, trembling against me. “I had to stop her.”
“I know.” I press my lips to the top of her head and glance over at Prescott. There’s blood on his arms and hands from the window, and he looks almost as shaken up as I feel. “Thank you.”
He gives a hard nod. I know I owe him more than a thanks, but right now all I can do is hold Charlie and breathe her in. I used to be a thrill seeker, wanting the next adrenaline high, but I’ll be happy to sit in a padded room for the rest of my life if it means never feeling like this again.
The cops are talking to Daphne, and Prescott goes over to them.
“She was in the car,” Charlie says, her words muffled against my chest.
“What?” I place my palm on her cheek and lift her face so I can see her eyes. And my heart stutters as I meet her gaze. God, I love her so damn much. The thought of ever losing her guts me.
“Daphne. She was with Ethan that night. She was in the car when he hit Shannon.”
I shake my head, trying to process her words. I didn’t even know they knew each other.
“She was the one who sent you the recording of Ethan confessing. He was talking to her.”
“Shit.” I pull Charlie closer and glance over at Daphne. Paramedics are with her now. I hadn’t even seen them arrive.
“They’re taking her to the hospital,” Prescott says, approaching. “Pretty sure the police want to talk to you both.” He places a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “You okay?”
She nods and hesitates before hugging Prescott. “Thank you. You were really brave. You saved my life and I won’t forget that.”
He actually blushes. “Yeah...” He rubs the back of his neck. “Well, all things considered, I guess you aren’t so bad, Hayes. In fact, I’m kind of getting used to having you around. Just try not to go jumping off of a building again.”
She gives him a small smile, but it quickly disappears whe
n she looks over at where the paramedics are escorting Daphne downstairs.
“Can I go with her?” Charlie asks one of the police officers.
He gives a hard shake of his head. “I still have to take your statement. She’s being admitted to psych, on forty-eight-hour watch. Only family will be allowed to see her.”
We’ve all had enough interaction with the Princeton police to last a lifetime, and I can feel the adrenaline leaving Charlie as she sags against me, telling the officer the night’s events. By the time we’re done, the ball is back in full swing as if a girl didn’t try to kill herself on the roof above.
Jill, Connery, Ava, Tatum, Georgia, and Yates are all waiting for us in the lobby.
The girls rush to Charlie when they see her, wrapping her in a hug.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Prescott says, resting an arm over Ava’s shoulder.
I couldn’t agree more, and I’m glad that Charlie doesn’t fight me. Tatum bows out, wanting to head back to the bar for a final drink. Charlie hugs him goodbye, and when she lets go, they squeeze one another’s hands for an extra long beat. Tatum came with Daphne and she left alone. So is he. I feel for the guy, and I can see in his goodbye to Charlotte, that he is saying goodbye to more than the night. It’s his goodbye to the girl he loves.
The eight of us, Ava and Prescott, Jill and Connery, Georgia and Yates, and Charlie and me, leave the ball. Outside, we find the night air warm, the wind has died down. The sky is dark, the lamplight leads the way. And looking around, there is a collective exhale. Tonight started on such a high - pampering the girls in luxury. Limo rides and an elaborate ballroom.
Now, none of that matters.
What matters is the real, the tangible. Beating hearts. We’re living, breathing. Alive. God, I never want to lose what I have right now.
The stars are out, and we walk along the wide sidewalks, arms draped around our lovers, our friends, our adrenaline still high and none of us quite ready to leave after everything we went through. After everything we saw. We pause at a flight of stairs, and sit, sprawling out. Loosening our ties, the rustling of the gowns the girls wear. Prescott produces a bottle of champagne. When he pops the cork, we cheer, holding onto the moment. It’s not graduation yet, but it feels like the end of an era.
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