"Right sorry. Well I'm going to Mason's now. I'll see you in the morning."
"Love you, Kiddo."
"Love you too, Dad." I bound out of the house and towards my Jeep excited for tonight.
I throw my overnight bag in the back seat. I'm supposed to stay at Nick’s tonight, since his parents are away. Mason's house is only a quick ten-minute drive from mine. I turn the music right up to get into the party mood.
Our flight was supposed to arrive at eleven this morning, however we got severely delayed and only landed at five this afternoon. As soon as we got home, I raced upstairs to start getting ready. I wanted to look hot for mine and Nick's first New Year’s and also since we haven't seen each other since Christmas Eve.
I didn't realize I would miss being away from him so much and that was only six days. I don't know what is going to happen next year when there will be close to three thousand miles separating us. I worked it out the other day but kind of wished I hadn't. It's a forty-five minute drive from Yale to Hartford, followed by a five hour flight to LAX and then with LA traffic anywhere up from a thirty minute drive to UCLA's campus. Let's just say it was confronting and the reality of it hit me hard.
My phone buzzes and I quickly check open the new message to a picture of Nick, Issy and Tyler clinking red cups and the caption, 'Hurry up babe, you're missed!'
I know, I know it's bad I shouldn't be looking at my phone while driving but I don't reply so there's that. I was quite surprised and sceptical when Nick told me yesterday that he and Mason had talked and are now 'cool' as he put it.
Apparently, Nick decided yesterday to go over his house and tell him everything. By that I mean everything, going right back to the lake house that first summer. I would have thought that would be a risky move, but it obviously paid off.
I'm singing full pitch and swaying to one of my current favorite songs when I turn down Mason's street instantly finding a parking spot only a house away. Sweet!
Still humming and bopping to myself as I stroll across the grass of Mason's front yard I almost trip over someone hunched over being sick. Arghh gross.
"Sorry!" I cry out and hesitate before asking "Are you alright?" I can't not check on them.
To my surprise, the girl straightens and looks fresh as a daisy.
"Hey, Hails!"
It's Lucy, Mason's cousin.
"I was just making room." She explains before I even ask. "Beer isn't being my friend tonight and I could just feel it sitting there making me bloated.
All right, now that is gross.
"Time to switch to vodka, I think!" Lucy squeals with no hint of being sick only a minute ago.
I'm pretty sure the only thing she should be switching to is water .
"You look smooooookin'." Lucy looks me up and down inspecting my black cami and gold sequin mini skirt.
"Come one Luce, let's go inside." I steady her a little, as she sways.
Maybe not as fresh as a daisy. We push through the sea of people, already packed into the house and I guide her through to an outdoor sofa.
"Sorry." I yell to the girls sitting down. "Do you mind if she sits, she's not feeling well?"
They oblige and move over making room for Lucy.
"I'm fine!" Lucy yells.
Well, that's what I think she said, it comes out as a slur.
"I'll come back with some vodka!" I yell in her ear and head for the kitchen looking around for Nick or Issy.
Mason has gone way beyond with the party. There's a DJ in the corner, probably the same one Tank had at his party a few months ago. In the kitchen are several coolers lined up with all sorts of drinks from water, soda to UDL cans and three kegs of beer. I grab a bottle of water and pour it into a red cup for Lucy. If she thinks it’s vodka, she's most likely to down it quicker than if she thought it was water. I should know, I've embarrassingly been that girl.
"Here!" I yell, handing her the cup when I return. "It's vodka and soda!"
Just as predicted, she skulls half the cup instantly. I tell her I'll be back soon and spin around to go in search of my boyfriend. I don't get far when I spot him coming through the back sliding door, looking as dreamy as ever in a pair of black jeans and a black leather jacket over a form fitting black v-neck tee. Damn this guy looks like he stepped straight from the pages of GQ.
I hear someone let out a low whistle and I look over to see it was Lucy. I'm actually impressed she can whistle like that, especially wasted. I recognise her distinct husky voice.
"O.M.G" I hear her drool to the girl next to her on the sofa.
A smug smile creeps onto my face. I stay still watching him but listening to the girls fawn over him. I'm not jealous, I know he's going home with him and no one else.
"He is so fucking hot!" A voice I don't know states dreamily.
He sure is.
"And the best kisser!" Lucy boasts with pride.
Yep.
Wait, what! My head snaps around to get a better view of Lucy. Surely, I didn't hear that right.
"You hooked up with him?" Another unknown voice asks with clear jealousy and I freeze straining to hear her reply.
"Yeah winter break last year.” She grins triumphantly at the curly haired girl.
What the actual fuck! My head starts spinning and I grab the edge of the sofa to balance myself. Time seems to slow right down as I try to piece it together one slither of information at a time.
Winter break. January. Hope was alive. He was still with Hope. He said he didn't cheat. He lied. Mason's words from Homecoming float back, 'he cheated on Hope and he'll do the same to you.’
No, No, No. This cannot be real.
Slowly, I turn back to look at him. Like some sick twist of divine intervention, the crowd parts giving him a clear view of me. His too good to be true face gives into what would normally be a knee-weakening smile. Just as quickly though it falters when he takes in my bewildered expression. His eyes flicker from me to Lucy and then back to me. It's as obvious as a neon sign the instant he realizes that I know something he clearly never intended for me to know. He reaches me across the room in a matter of steps before I can even move.
"Lee wait, it's not what you think!" He pleads, grabbing my trembling hands.
Ripping them away with force I try to control the onslaught of emotions
"So, you didn't hook up with Lucy? And you didn't lie about cheating on Hope?" My voice betrays me and cracks making me feel extremely vulnerable and alone.
"Please let me explain!”
"It's either a yes you did or no you didn't?" I level out surprising myself.
He hangs his head in obvious shame giving me my answer without needing to say another word.
How could I be so stupid. I trusted him. I thought I loved him. It's not the infidelity because that would make me a hypocrite, it's the lie, when he so vehemently denied it months ago. Suddenly feeling extremely claustrophobic, even with being in an open yard, I run towards the house needing more than ever to get away.
"You said, you wouldn't run anymore!" He yells across the front lawn when he catches me, causing a few people to turn and look at us with interest.
I don't care. I don’t care in the least about being the center of attention right now. A tidal wave of tears and a crippling ache in my chest force me to pause and lean against my car for support. I am such a fucking fool. How did I let this happen again? Gathering myself I turn to face him and look him square in the eyes, ignoring the plea in them.
"Well, I guess we are both liars then." And I throw my necklace at him before climbing into my car and speeding off down the street.
Chapter 33
I roll over in my bed pulling the covers up to my chin, staring at the white ceiling of my bedroom. I can't seem to get warm enough today.
Absentmindedly, I reach up to twirl my necklace between my fingers, but it's gone. Images of New Year’s Eve fill my thoughts and even after a week I still have to concentrate to block them out. It hurts too much otherwise.
"Kiddo?" I turn to face my Dad standing in my doorway. "You okay?"
"Yeah." I mutter snuggling into my body pillow, wrapping my leg around it.
I know he doesn't believe me but thankfully he doesn't press.
"There's someone on the phone for you." He says and that's when I notice the cordless in his hand.
No-one ever rings on that anymore, except telemarketers.
"It's Hope's mom," he says as he sits down on the bed holding the handset out to me.
I hesitate for a moment before wrapping my fingers around it and bringing it up to my ear.
"H-Hello?" I stammer quietly
"Hailee. Hi, it's Mrs Kennedy. Hope's mom. I'm sorry to call you so early."
My vision instinctively darts to the alarm clock on my nightstand that shows 8:02 a.m.
"I'm in town for the day and was wondering if you would be able to come around to the house this morning?"
A shallow breath hitches in my throat and my whole-body tenses. I haven't seen or spoken to Hope's mom since the funeral. She left the day after and went to her sisters down south. I hadn't even heard she was back.
"Of course, I can come over now?" I offer, suppressing the thoughts and irrational fears that plague me as to why she wants to see me so urgently.
"Yes, that's perfect dear. See you soon."
The line disconnects. I stare at the black numbers of the white handset for a few seconds contemplating the call. Hold it together, I chant to myself. I've always had a good relationship with Mrs. Kennedy. She was kind to me and would always check in on Dad and me and send over meals with Hope.
She is a very traditional southern girl at heart who was born and raised in Alabama under the strict rulings of her grandparents. Which meant through no fault of her own she was predispositioned with certain beliefs and ideals of the way society 'should' be. Hope often had to conceal certain information from Mrs. Kennedy that most parents wouldn't bat an eye lid about. It used to make me a little sad thinking she couldn't be herself or honest with her mom, but I do understand that not everyone is fortunate enough to have the open relationship that Dad and I have.
"Kiddo, everything alright?” Dad puts his hand on my arm causing me to flinch.
Completely lost inside my thoughts I forgot he was there. I've been doing that a lot lately, I would just zone out and not notice anything around me.
"I don't know. She wants me to go visit her." I whisper.
"Oh Kiddo, you don't have to do that. I'll call her back now and tell her you can't." He goes to grab the phone, but I pull it away.
"No Dad, I'm alright. Promise. I feel like I need to see her. Maybe it will do me good?"
"Do you want me to come with you?"
"No, it's okay, but thanks."
"Okay, but ring me if you need to alright?"
"Thanks, Dad. I love you." I hug him tightly.
"Love you too, Kiddo." He chokes, and I can tell he's trying not to be upset for me.
Dad leaves and I get up to have a shower and get ready. It feels like a lifetime since I've worn anything other than sweats. I'm just grateful school was still out this week. I apply a small amount of makeup because that's one thing Mrs. Kennedy used to always tell us, 'No matter where you are going, dress as if you will meet your future husband.'
I most definitely will not be meeting my future husband today, but I still make the effort knowing she would approve.
I stop on the sidewalk and turn to face the immaculate flower-lined path of the Kennedy home and stop for a moment to absorb it all. The house does not look like it's been unlived in for the past few months. The garden is perfectly manicured, and the house shows no sign of being abandoned. A gorgeous colonial style home with crisp white dominating pillars on the front porch and dark grey shutters alongside each window and a red vibrant door.
I always thought the door color was a little out of place for the theme and when I questioned it one time, Hope informed me her Mom had read about it being good Feng Shui. I know nothing about Feng Shui, except that you probably didn't wanna mess with it.
I knock once and Mrs. Kennedy answers right away waving me in.
"Hello, Hailee. Thank you for coming.”
"My pleasure" I reply, stepping into the house, feeling the emptiness of it despite the full house of furniture.
Don't ask me why but I have always spoken more eloquently around Mrs. Kennedy, maybe it's just a reflection of the way she speaks. You know how they say you absorb some of the traits of the people you're most frequently around?
"I am very sorry for the urgency and I appreciate you coming." Cutting to the chase she says. "I have decided to relocate back closer to my sister. I returned to Sanctuary Cove purely to pack up Hope's room. The movers will attend to the rest of the house, however, I thought it fitting to do Hope's room myself. I have removed all of my sentimental items and thought you might want to do the same before I box everything else up for charity."
Whoa. Hold it together, hold it together I chant to myself for already the millionth time today. The last thing Hope's mom needs is for me to turn into a blubbering pathetic emotional mess.
"So, just go right on up." She motions to the stairs when I don't say anything. “And take whatever you want, I know Hope would want you too.”
I nod in response and slowly walk up the stairs, keeping my head down to avoid the family photos on the wall. I don't know why I bother, they are committed to memory.
The first one is Mr. & Mrs. Kennedy's wedding photo, and then a few baby photos of Hope followed by professional family photos up until Hope was eight. Next is Mr. Kennedy's last photo ever taken in his Army uniform, before a few more professional photos of just Hope and her mom. It's a visual events timeline of the family, which I've always thought was a bit morbid.
Just outside Hope's bedroom I steel myself. You can do this Hailee. You need to do this. Opening the door and catching sight of her room, for the first time since before the accident, I'm hit so hard with a tidal wave of emotions and memories that I almost crumble, needing the door frame for support.
I lean against it for a minute or two before the wave subsides and I take a few more steps into the room. It's exactly how I remember it; the bed is even made with her Paris themed duvet cover. Hope Kennedy, head cheerleader, daughter, girlfriend and best friend. Her life forever frozen at seventeen, never aging, never growing old. Forever young, beautiful and carefree.
Everywhere I look in the room, it brings remembrance of a thousand memories both good and bad, but mostly good. I trail my fingers along her white timber dresser and sit down on the grey velvet stool. I remember the first time she did my makeup sitting at this stool. It was Freshman year just after I had moved here, and she wanted to try out this new color palette she had just bought. I had ended up looking like I was going to a vampire convention. The eyeliner was so heavy.
I look up and carefully inspect each of the photos tacked around the edges of the mirror, photos of us in our cheerleading outfits at various football games, the same picture I have of us just before the Halloween dance last year with our arms around each other and Nick and Mason on either side doing a stupid pose, one of her standing in front of her new red Beetle convertible on her sixteenth birthday and then so many random photos of me and her and her and Nick, that I can't even recall when half of them were taken. Her cheer pom poms are hanging neatly on a hook, next to her floor-length mirror and I give them a ruffle as I glide past.
I'm trying to commit everything to memory, I know this is the very last time, I will ever be in her room. I run my fingers over her clothes still neatly hanging in the closet, organized by item and then by color. She always had such great taste in clothes and was the biggest neat freak when it came to them.
My eyes dart down to her shoe boxes stacked neatly on the rack and I bend down to pick up the box I am seeking. I stand there pausing for a moment, before opening it to reveal her most prized pair of shoes - a pair of black Manolos. Her mom had broug
ht them for her on a trip overseas when she was fourteen. They are four inches of sheer beauty from the shiny black material to the glittering gold clasp perfectly positioned over the toes. She had let me try them that day and I had felt like a princess. 'You can have them when I die' she had joked at the time causing her mom and I to laugh.
Oh, Hope if only you had known. Why did it have to be you?
The noise of the door creaking open causes me to jump and drop the shoe box just as Nick appears. He's wearing a look almost identical to mine, an expression of torment and apprehension.
“Mrs Kennedy called me.” he shrugs almost apologetically.
At seeing him in the doorway, I can't fight it any longer and give way to the heavy emotions that overpower me, falling ungracefully into a sobbing mess on the carpet.
Nick races to the floor and wraps me in his comforting arms. I have no control, the flood gates are released, and I have no choice but to wait until it subsides. I turn hysterical and Nick pulls me into his lap, gently rocking me while stroking my hair.
I don't fight it, there is no use. Everything that I've been trying so hard to hold inside is bursting out and drowning me. I don't move, just stare at nothingness, letting him hold me as the rapid tears fall.
I cry for the world losing an imperfect but perfect to me Hope.
I cry for my best friend who never got to graduate high school.
I cry for the guilt that I hold for surviving when she didn't.
I cry for my broken heart because without Hope in my life it will always be missing a piece.
I cry for the old me and the knowledge that I will never know or be that girl again.
Without even realizing it at some stage, I had nestled into Nick's chest and the tears had stopped falling. I am spent, exhausted and absolutely drained of everything.
Chapter 34
"How's it going in here?" Mrs. Kennedy taps on the door lightly before she pushes it open.
I look up to see Nick's worried face staring down at me and Mrs Kennedy frozen at door, before it all registers and clicks back into place.
Just a Little Complicated: A Highschool Sports Romance (SANCTUARY COVE Book 1) Page 14