by Chloe Walsh
I cocked a brow. "Oh, you think?"
She rolled her eyes. "Obviously."
"Yeah, fair point." I agreed with a sigh. "And we probably would have dated all through middle and high school."
Her eyes widened. "You think so?"
"Of course," I replied. "We would’ve been serious, too – right up until I fucked it up and you dumped me just before we went off to college."
"Obviously." She snickered. "And I would have been your first kiss."
"And my second," I agreed, knowing that she absolutely would have been. Hell, I'd thought about it enough times.
"And your third." She laughed. "So, who was your first kiss?"
I grimaced at the memory. "Ashley Thomas."
"Ew." Molly shuddered and then choked out a laugh. "You tongued one of the Barbies. Gross. I bet she tasted like glitter and puppy dogs."
"In my defense, I only kissed her because Rourke begged me to," I offered with a chuckle. "He was dating Britt and needed a wing man."
"Well, it sucks to be your lips."
"Tell me about it," I chuckled before asking, "Who was yours?"
She rolled her eyes. "The man in the moon."
I frowned. "Huh?"
"Look at me, D," she grumbled, reaching up to play punch my arm. "Do I look like I've been kissed a lot?"
Yeah, but fuck, I hoped she hadn't.
"Come on, Molls," I pushed, curiosity piqued. "I told you mine."
"I can't tell you," she finally said and then laughed at my outraged expression. "Seriously, I can't."
I rolled my eyes. "Because it's a big secret?"
"No…" she drawled slowly. "Because it hasn't happened yet."
"What?"
"Hey, don’t look at me like that," she huffed. "It's not a big deal."
"But you're eighteen."
"And deformed," she was quick to point out. "If you haven't noticed that by now, then you seriously need to consider getting your eyes tested, D."
"Don't do that," I warned, narrowing my eyes. "Don't put yourself down like that."
"Whatever." She sighed. "It's no big deal."
"It is to me," I replied. She was saying the words about herself but they cut me just as deeply. "Don't do it, 'kay?"
"Yeah." She swallowed deeply, brown eyes glued to my face. "’Kay, Daryl."
She was watching me with those big brown eyes that always made me feel at ease.
Not tonight.
Not any night since the night she was taken from me.
I wanted to tell her that she was so fucking beautiful. That I'd never seen anyone so goddamn pretty, but she had a hard time hearing my truths. It wouldn’t matter anyway. I'd caused this girl a helluva lot of hurt. The most I could possibly hope for was friendship and I was pushing my luck with that. It didn’t stop me from wanting to make everything better, though. In my drunken stupor, all I could think about was how Molly deserved the best senior year ever.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked a little while later. "D?" She looked up at me with big, trusting eyes. "What are you thinking about? You look like you're miles away."
"About homecoming," I replied, thinking about how I could help her have that amazing senior year she deserved. "I'm gonna take you."
Molly chuckled nervously. "You're w-what?"
"Homecoming. It's next month, and I'm gonna take you " I repeated, feeling excited for the first time in my life about the prospect of attending with a girl that I actually wanted to spend time with. The only girl I wanted to spend time with. "You said it yourself; we'd have gone together if you hadn't left." I wanted to be the one to fix everything for her. I wanted to give her a fucking epic senior year. She deserved nothing less. And yeah, if I could ease the guilt inside of me while doing that, then it was a bonus. I shrugged. "Well, you're back, and we're going."
"No, we're not," Molly laughed, shaking her head. "You're gonna be crowned homecoming king – again – and I have more respect for myself than to be the pity date on your arm."
"Would you quit it with that shit!" I snapped, pissed with her words. "You're not my pity anything. And you're not deformed, dammit. You're my friend, and I, for one, think you're goddamn beautiful!"
"Are you kidding me?" She sprang off my lap so fast, my eyes blurred. "Are you fucking kidding me right now?"
"What's the problem?" Confused by her reaction, I slowly stood up, eyes tracking her every move as she paced her living room floor like a tiny, blonde whirlwind. "I offered to take you to a school dance, Molls. The fuck is there to be mad about?"
"You offered to take me?" she repeated, voice laced with hurt. "I'm back now?" Throwing her hands up in the air, she released a furious scream. "I've been back for two freaking years, Daryl!"
"I know!" I held my hands up. "And I told you that I was sorry about that. I'm trying to make it up to you –"
"By offering to take me to homecoming? You erased me, Daryl!" she cried, brown eyes laced with venom and pain. "From your life. From your memory." Her mask of distain and indifference was betrayed by the tremor in her voice. "We were best friends since birth! After everything we've been through… You just went and forgot about me! And don’t think I don’t know what this is, either," she said accusingly. "You being here. You're trying to ease your guilt about what happened at school by…" Stopping short, she exhaled a ragged breath and forcefully blinked away the tears filling her eyes, "hanging around with the town's burn victim – "
"Would you quit it!" I snapped, completely fucking affected by every hurtful word that was spilling from her lips. I loved her and I left her behind me. I moved on. I lived my life and forgot all about the girl that flowed through my veins more potently than blood. Couldn’t she see how fucking sorry I was for forsaking her? "It ain't like that, Molls, and you damn well know it."
"We've hung out a handful of times and you want to go to homecoming together!" She shook her head. "You're being ridiculous."
Molly
Daryl was mad at me when he had no damn right.
I had spoken nothing but the truth. Fair enough, I was high and my words were coming out a little less tactfully than normal, but it was still the truth.
Daryl's refusal to call it like it was pissed me the hell off. At least I was being honest. Living in the real world. He was on cloud cuckoo if he thought we could slide back into our old life by going to homecoming together.
Our lives were completely different now. It was one thing to hang out together, but falling into his world, a world that included mean girls with perfect bodies, was too freaking much.
"I didn’t realize asking you to a goddamn dance would be such a crime," he snapped. "Jesus!"
"It's not just about the dance, Daryl."
"Then what is it about?"
"Everything."
"You might wanna be more specific here, Molly."
"Fine. Do you know what your friends call me? You know; the ones you replaced me with?" I asked, feeling my own temper spike. "They call me Freddy Kruger," I hissed, not giving him a chance to answer, eyes blazing with hurt. "They've called me that for two years, Daryl," I added, forcing my voice not to crack. "You think that song was bad yesterday? Well, it wasn’t. It was the tip of the freaking iceberg compared to what they've said about me. So, quit it with this 'you're beautiful' crap, because I'm not buying it for a second. It's your guilt talking and that's cool, totally understandable, but don’t treat me like an idiot who can't see her own reflection in a damn mirror!"
His nostrils flared. "Molly –"
"It doesn’t even matter," I quickly continued. "Because I don’t care about any of it. I don’t care what the girls at school say about me because their looks will fade. Their outer shells will falter and dim until all that they're left with is their cold, dead personalities and the ugliness on the inside. And I'll be fine. These growing pains I'm feeling right now won't last forever. Because I might not look like much, but at least I can stand on my own two feet. At least I'm not afraid to be wh
o I am, to admit how I feel. I pity those girls – the ones like Britt and Ash who belittle and berate me. They'll never be themselves because they're too busy being what they think boys like you want. So, they can have all of the fame and glory that comes with high school popularity, but just remember that I'm the lucky one. Not them!"
Jaw ticking, Daryl stared hard at me for the longest moment before breaking the tense silence. "I just want to make you feel okay again, Molly."
"I am okay," I lied. "I've been okay."
"Then maybe I want to feel okay again," he snapped, throwing his hands up. "Maybe I'm the one who hasn’t been okay!"
"You seem to be doing just fine," I shot back shakily.
"Oh, you think so?" he sneered. "Well, you're wrong, because I'm a goddamn mess! I haven't been okay a single damn day since that fire! Since you left my life and everything went dark!"
My breath hitched in my throat. "Daryl…"
"I loved you!" he roared, trembling now. "Jesus Christ, I loved you more than I have ever loved another person on this damn planet! You were my best friend, Molly. You were everything to me. Fucking everything!"
"I know." I choked out a sob, drowning in the pain of the past. "I felt the same."
"I was so fucking scared of losing you that night that I –" Clenching his eyes shut, he shook his head, almost as if he could force the images that were tormenting him away. When he opened his eyes again, they were laced with hurt and accusation. "You know what I did that night. So, don’t treat me like I'm the same as those assholes at school. I'm not and you know it. If I'm here, it's not because I pity you! If I ask you to be my date to a goddamn dance, it's not to ease my conscience! You know why I'm here, Molly. You fucking know what you mean to me so don’t belittle me and my feelings by calling me a liar!"
"I'm not calling you a liar," I cried, pushing my hands through my hair.
"No, you're just tarring me with the same brush as those conceited pricks at school," he sneered, looking wounded. "Hiding your body today? I know what you were doing, Molly."
"That's my choice."
"It's a stupid one," he shot back. "You think I'd treat you any different because you have scars? You think I would judge you because you're a survivor?" he roared. "I'm glad! I'm fucking glad you have those burns because if you didn’t you wouldn’t be here!"
"Don't say that!" I screamed. "Please –"
"Don’t say what, Molly?" he demanded. "Don’t say that I'm glad you're alive? Well tough shit, because I am."
Reaching for the hem of his tank, Daryl yanked it over his head.
"No." A pained sob escaped me when my eyes landed on his right hip. "Don’t…"
"See – " He closed the space between us, causing my emotions to spiral out of control. "We match." Taking my small hand in his, he traced the rough and uneven skin that covered his right hip. "We fit together, Molly." Our joined hands moved from his naked flesh to under my shirt, our fingertips dusting over every jagged edge that linked my misfortune with his. "Like a jigsaw."
"Daryl…" Tears trickled feely down my cheeks now. "I'm so sorry."
"Don’t be," he replied, pulling me into his arms. "I'd do it all over again for you."
The Past
Eight years ago
Molly
Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep…
Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep…
Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep…
The sound of constant beeping continued to pierce my eardrums, and I reluctantly dragged myself from my dreams and into consciousness.
The moment I opened my eyes, my hand moved to my throat.
Thick, dark smoke was all around me, making it almost impossible to breathe.
"Mom?"
Panic stricken, I kicked the covers off my body and leapt out of bed.
"Dad!"
The alarm in my bedroom continued to beep over and over, so loud that it made me feel dizzy.
"Fire!" I screamed, suddenly realizing what was happening and what the beeping signified. "Help!"
Coughing and spluttering, I raced for my bedroom door and curled my hand around the door knob, only to scream and jerk away when piping hot pain shot through my fingers.
"Somebody help me!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. "There's a fire!" Grabbing a sweater off my bedroom floor, I used it to protect my hand as I yanked the door open.
"Ahhhh," I screamed as an inferno of angry orange flames engulfed my room.
Staggering backwards, I fell onto the carpet, screaming out in agony as my nightdress went up in flames.
I was on fire.
"Mommy!" I cried, choking on the smoke and heat. "Help me… It hurts!"
Screaming so hard and loud, I dragged myself on my hands and knees away from the door, beyond terrified when the flames continued to chase me deeper into my room.
"Please, Mommy! Daddy!" I cried, shaking violently now. "Make it stop…"
Feeling woozy, I managed to drag myself to the window before the pain got the better of me.
I couldn’t take it.
I couldn’t breathe.
I needed it to just stop.
"Molly!" I thought I heard my name, but I was falling in and out of consciousness. The sound of glass shattering filled the air. "Molly, I'm here!"
"Daddy?" I slurred, body engulfed in flames. "No…don’t touch me!" I screamed out in agony when hands came around my body. "Please…stop…it hurts…"
And then I smelled him.
Grass and peppermint.
I felt him.
Warmth and tenderness.
I heard him.
Familiar and comforting.
"I've got you." Daryl was crying hard as he pulled my burned and mangled body through the window he had broken. "Hold on, Molly-Dolly. Please don’t leave me…"
Present Day
Molly
Daryl King was ten years old when he ran into a burning house and pulled me to safety.
It was the most courageous thing I had ever witnessed another human being do.
He was only a child back then.
My best friend.
And he saved my life.
I was the sole survivor of an inferno that claimed the lives of both my mother and baby brother.
I was alive right now because of the boy whose arms were wrapped around me.
Now that we had finally addressed the painful memory that hung heavily above us, I felt stupid for my outburst. I shouldn’t be unleashing my pain on Daryl. He was the very last person who deserved it.
Unable to stop the tears from spilling, I clung to him like my life depended on it, needing the feel of his skin on mine in this moment to ground me. To remind me that we were both here, that we had survived a cataclysmic tragedy.
Yes, I was still hurt and licking my wounds over the fact that I'd been invisible to him for two years, but that was so miniscule in comparison to the colossal sacrifice he'd made the night he risked his life to save mine.
"I'm sorry," I said, taking a step back to look at him. "I would blame the alcohol and the weed for my meltdown, but it would be a lie. I’m just…I have a lot of issues and everything that happened at school yesterday… uh, it doesn’t matter. Either way, I'm sorry for throwing all of that crap at you."
"Do you feel better?"
"Huh?"
"Better," he clarified. "Do you feel better now?"
I thought about his question for a long moment before reluctantly nodding. "Yeah." I did feel better. I felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders. "I do."
"Then it's okay," Daryl said with a shrug. "I think we both needed this blowout. It had to happen sooner or later, right?"
"Right," I agreed with a shiver. "Um, do you still want to sleep over?"
His nostrils flared. "Unless you want me to go."
"No." I shook my head and wrapped my arms around my stomach. "I don’t want that. Ever again."
"I know you think I'm not the same guy you left behind, and tha
t I've changed… become the same as the people you see me with at school." Reaching out, he fisted the hem of my t-shirt and pulled me close. "And maybe you're right... But if you could just have a little patience, and give me a chance, then maybe I can prove you wrong?" His green eyes burned with heat and sincerity. "Maybe I can be that guy again?"
"Okay," I whispered, nodding up at him. "I can do that."
"Friends?" A smile ghosted his full lips. "For real this time? No barriers?"
"For real," I agreed, holding my pinkie finger up for him to hook his with. "No barriers."
Daryl
When I woke the following morning, it was to the hangover from hell and the feel of a female wrapped around me.
It took me a few minutes to clear the fog that was blurring my thought process, but once I did, my stomach flipped inside out.
I was shirtless in my bed.
Correction; I was shirtless in Molly's bed.
She was still asleep, with her small frame draped on top of me like my favorite fucking blanket.
My heart, the one that had turned to stone in my chest the night she was taken away from me, roared to life; thudding hard and pumping violently. Full of blood and pain and life, it beat steadily in my chest.
And I was sporting morning wood.
Rock fucking hard morning wood.
Jesus Christ.
What bad damn luck.
For a long time, I lay perfectly still beneath her and debated my options, before giving into temptation and draping an arm around her tiny waist.
Molly sighed in sleepy contentment, mumbled something incoherent, and then snuggled deeper into my chest.
My dick hardened to the point of pain.
Fuck my life.
Jaw clenched, I closed my eyes and tried to wrangle my testosterone-filled brain out of the damn gutter.
I couldn't be in her bed.
I shouldn't be in her fucking bed.