by Unknown
My entrance through the doors of the high school is the same as it’s been for the last three years: backpack hanging from my arm, shoulders squared, and attitude full of confidence.
I smile at the freshman girls on the bench outside the front office because, at this point, why the hell not. I’ve had plenty of time to suffer the loss of Kennedy in my life. I spent the entire summer burying myself in different girls, hoping it would be enough to erase her presence. To my surprise, it didn’t help, so now, my goal is to survive.
There will be no avoiding her. She’s everywhere now. Last year, she was invisible to these people, and now... Well, let’s just say things are different. Kennedy is an official part of my group. They tolerated her last year because she was on my arm. Now, all the girls crowd around her locker while the guys stand in the background, smirking in her direction. I know what they’re thinking. I thought the same thing last year. Her innocent demeanor and bright smile draw them to her. She’s like a siren luring a sailor to his death.
The only difference is, last year she wasn’t Miss Popular.
She has an advantage over me now.
They all fucking love her.
Chapter Five
Kennedy
Today is the first day of my senior year.
I should be more excited, but my biggest fear is walking into school to find out I’m alone, without the support of my classmates and friends. There’s always a chance they will turn their backs on me and side with Craig. He’s been their friend, their classmate, much longer than I have. Graham’s presence is what made me relevant, so it’s easy to think they will drop me, knowing Graham and I are no longer a package deal.
Don’t get me wrong. I am excited, but my version is subdued. My enthusiasm is weak, watered down, almost unnoticeable at this point.
Head down, eyes to the floor, and heart thumping out of my chest, I take the longest walk of my life. When I reach my locker, Skylar jumps right in with tales of her summer full of concerts and bothering her dad at the recording studio. She acts as if everything is normal, as if she hadn’t said what she had on Saturday night. I glance around the loud, crowded hall, and a sea of knowing, sympathizing eyes and smiles tell me I’m not alone in my fight.
Then it happens.
I get that feeling, the one where, when someone infiltrates deeper than I ever imagined possible, it feels like a string attaches my heart to his.
I plaster on a fake smile right as Graham turns the corner and walks by my locker.
That heartbreaking, infuriating, beautiful feeling is why my pulse still races and my hands still become clammy whenever Graham is near. It’s frustrating, in the best way possible, to know someone in this world is capable of making me feel so goddamn extraordinary, but then, on the other hand, so damn unworthy.
Jackie, my therapist, has told me all summer that my self-worth should never be wrapped up in someone else. I’ve explained to her that I don’t find what’s important about myself in Graham. Although, it’s hard not to believe something is wrong with me when the one person who claims to love me beyond reason walks away without a glance back.
I’ve spent the entire summer rolling it over in my head and have come up with a couple of things. The first, I understand why Graham feels like he had to walk away from me, even though it hurts to admit. He feels guilty and responsible for everything horrible that’s happened to me this last year. The second, Graham’s a fucking idiot. Craig’s attack was not his fault. Yes, his decisions affected what happened, but who’s to say it wouldn’t have occurred anyway? Craig could have still picked me to release his crazy on. If it weren’t me, it would’ve been someone else. I’m a firm believer, and no one can convince me otherwise.
“How was your summer, Kennedy?” Skylar asks, her voice condescending. She inspects her nails and scans her gaze over the hallway, not ever stopping on me.
“It was all right. Went to California to see my brother, but nothing exciting,” I reply, hoping I’m not being set up like I have been in the past.
At the mention of my brother, everyone chimes in about how freakishly gorgeous he is. You know what will freak out a girl? Tell her how bad you want to get in her brother’s pants. I zone out their words of appreciation for Will.
Amanda walks down the hallway toward us. I haven’t seen her since the night I found her wrapped around Graham with her tongue down his throat. Her eyes remain locked on the floor in front of her feet, and she never bothers to look up at anyone.
“Have any of you talked to Amanda?” Becky asks the group, a look of concern on her face.
“We hung out a few times over the summer. She sort of kept to herself. She’s feeling guilty after...” Nicole blurts.
I’ve never actually talked to Nicole until this morning. She’s one of the girls who gave me the cold shoulder when Graham turned his back on me. She’s also a ball chaser, according to Violet, which makes sense now that I see the way she looks across the hall at Graham and Mark.
“After what?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Never mind. It’s nothing.” Nicole rummages through her purse before she twists and walks away.
I turn to face Graham and Mark, only to be caught in the act. Graham turns his back after our eyes meet, but Mark glances in my direction. I see the smile in his eyes and try my hardest to look away, but I can’t. He’s contagious, and the longer we look at each other, the bigger his smile grows. Graham’s in the middle of talking to him when he notices Mark’s not listening. Graham follows Marks eyes until his honey irises land on me. Graham shakes his head and slams his locker shut before storming down the hall. Mark shrugs, winks in my direction, and heads after him.
“Mark and you looked pretty comfortable at Dan’s this weekend, Kennedy,” Skylar blurts out. Her animosity toward me drips off her tongue.
“Was that a question or just an obvious statement?” Violet barks out beside me.
“Mind your own business, Vi. I was just curious, is all.” Skylar shrugs but her jealousy bleeds through every word.
I freeze, not understanding where Skylar’s anger is coming from. I know I need to say something, but what are the right words?
“Nothing happened. He was just being nice, is all,” I swear, holding my books in front of my chest. Nothing happened, but he definitely made his intentions clear.
The girls laugh, and I hate feeling like I’m on the outside of some inside joke. This is why I avoided these types of girls for as long as I did. Nothing good comes from a group of conniving, gossip-hungry girls.
“Mark is never just being nice. He wants in your pants. And by the way you look at him, you want to get cozy in his, too,” Skylar barks out with clear anger and storms down the hall.
“Don’t listen to her. She’s just jealous. They hooked up all summer until you came out of hiding this weekend. My guess is she feels slighted by him. She hasn’t figured out most guys humor her bullshit to get backstage passes or into her quick-to-drop pants,” Violet whispers in my ear and heads in the opposite direction of where I’m going.
I poke my head in my locker, hoping maybe, just maybe, today is the day a giant black hole will open up and drag me away from this hell. How am I going to survive this year? Everywhere I look, my eyes meet his.
The only thing that makes this bearable is knowing I’ll be out of town at the end of the year. I’ll be able to escape the sad eyes falling on me. I’ll be able to drive down roads without remembering some horrific emotional rollercoaster. I want freedom from this heartache. I want freedom from this place.
I walk into first block a few minutes late. Apparently, I overstayed my time at my locker. As I step into the room, everyone falls silent. All eyes are on me and a blush creeps up my neck and onto my cheeks. I apologize to Mrs. Peterson for being late. She nods in understanding and gestures for me to find a seat. I scan over the classroom to find all the seats occupied, but one.
You’ve got to be shitting me.
Chapter Si
x
Graham
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
What are the odds the smartest girl and the dumbest guy in school are taking the same elective? I mean, I know why I’m here. This is an easy A. I am all but promised by the teacher and the school counselor that this class will earn me a passing grade. I can’t afford to let my GPA slip any more than it has. Kennedy has no reason to be taking drama, which piques my interest even more.
An adorable blush covers her face because she’s five minutes late. Girls like Kennedy can’t stand being tardy and upsetting those in authority. Mrs. Peterson, the hottest teacher in school, nods for her to take a seat. Right away, I know I’m screwed. Kennedy’s bright blue gaze travels around the classroom and land on me with an icy stare.
It’s déjà vu. Kennedy makes her way to the back of the room where I sit at the only table with a vacant seat. I get a sick thrill at the grimace on her face. It’s a little disheartening that sitting next to me is enough to set her off, but I’ll take any emotion from Kennedy. Indifference is a point of no return for most. Hatred is better because emotion fuels the actions.
Kennedy slides in next to me and I train my eyes on the front of the room where Mrs. Peterson is busy going over what is expected of us this year. It sounds easy. We have to try out for the play. Our participation in class is mandatory. Attendance is required. There will be no papers and no written work.
Score.
I’m pulled from my train of thought when Mrs. Peterson announces we will be doing a small assignment before the hour is up.
“To make things less complicated, work with your desk mate. I want you to take turns saying a word. But you can only use one word to signal your emotions. One single emotion, like happy or sad and so forth. Your partner’s job is to respond with the first word that comes to mind when they hear yours,” Mrs. Peterson explains with excitement while everyone groans. “Okay, okay, I get it. It doesn’t sound like fun, but you will still do it because I’m the teacher and you’re the student. Maybe if you guys graduate, then you can become teachers and torment your own students.” She laughs at her own joke.
Kennedy doesn’t budge an inch, and I stay planted in my seat, hoping she’ll make the first move. She doesn’t, so we sit in silence while everyone else laughs at their partner’s responses.
I’m not sure how much time passes before I build up the courage to speak up. Graham Black is officially a pussy who can’t talk to the opposite sex. Well, just one female. This one, in particular, has the ability to tie me up in knots.
“You ready to start?” I ask and twist in her direction.
I glance around the room to see a few pairs of eyes more concerned with what’s going on between Kennedy and me than they are with their own partner. I can’t blame them. We were the biggest thing to happen last year. Kennedy Conrad tamed the infamous Graham Black was the headline on everyone’s Facebook page. We were the talk of the town when we first got together, and now, we are the talk of the town since we’ve broken up.
I don’t know why everyone cares so damn much.
“I guess so. Are you okay with this?” Kennedy points between the two of us. Her nervousness shines through her smile.
“I’m not okay with this, but we don’t really have a choice now, do we?” I’m being rude, aren’t I? Dammit.
“You’re right. Let’s just get this over with, okay?” Kennedy turns her chair to face mine.
The first thing I notice is her V neck, gray tank giving me full access to the black bra peeking out the top. Instinct has me reaching out to caress the exposed skin.
Kennedy catches my mistake. Eyes wide, she leans away from me.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize quietly.
“It’s okay. I get it,” Kennedy admits. Her head tilts to the side, and her hair curtains her face.
It’s hard to be this close to Kennedy and not fall into our usual routine. She’s the first girl who’s ever made me believe I deserve to fall in love and I might be worthy of someone as genuine and kindhearted as herself.
“Bitter?” Kennedy blurts her first word.
We are digging right in, huh?
I tap my pen on the tabletop. “My father,” I answer without skipping a beat. “Anger?”
Kennedy’s lip quivers. “Craig,” she whispers, not dropping her vulnerable eyes from mine.
I want to say something, anything, but words won’t come out.
She shakes her head, pulling herself back from the memory. “Happy?”
“Baseball.”
Mixed emotions play over Kennedy’s face. She nods in understanding, but on the other side of the coin, she seems almost disappointed as she lowers her head.
“Love?” I blurt.
“Dance and...” Her head snaps up and she heaves a breath of air. I watch her chest rise and fall in rapid sequence.
“And what?” I beg. Because I’m a dick, I selfishly hope she says me.
“And nothing. Remember, we’re only allowed to say one word.” Kennedy stands from the table, grabs her purse, and heads straight for the door.
My feet have their own mind and follow her. Mrs. Peterson looks in my direction, and I motion toward the door, knowing she’ll let the indiscretion pass if only this one time.
Walking down the hall, I berate myself for pushing the envelope. I find Kennedy in the library and watch through the window, hoping, I’ll get a few uninterrupted moments to admire her. She looks content, but at the same time, tortured. I open the door and walk straight to her like my life depends on being near her.
Her back is to me, but I see her body stiffen. She’s always been able to tell when I’m near. I sit in the chair beside her. After a few beats, she relaxes, but her rubbing her palms up and down her thighs doesn’t go unnoticed.
“And what, Kennedy? I ask, continuing the assignment we started in class.
Kennedy twirls to face me, tears swimming on the edge of her eyelids. She’s not going to let them drop because she’s stronger than them. At least she’s trying to convince herself she is. She shakes her head slightly from side to side.
“I’ll ask again and only to be nice. I know you. You’re dying to say it. You’re just afraid of what will happen if you do. You’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve. Why stop now, Ken?”
“And you. The last time I remember being truly happy was when I was with you, and now, I’m not. Is that what you wanted to hear, Graham?” Kennedy stands, leaving her book and purse behind. She twists her neck to look at me over her shoulder. “Are you satisfied now?”
My eyes follow as she walks to hide between the shelves in the back of the library.
Jesus Christ. You can’t just let her run away from you. Go after her.
I grab Kennedy’s belongings and march in her direction. When I round the corner, I stop dead in my tracks. She’s slumped to the floor with her back against the books, her head bowed, and her hands resting on the back of her neck. I tiptoe toward her. She hasn’t noticed me yet, or maybe she’s ignoring me.
“Stand up, Ken,” I whisper once I’m beside her.
She glimpses up at me, and I reach my hand out for her to take. She obliges and slaps hers into mine, and I pull her up to me.
When she’s on her feet, I wrap my arms around her waist. She yelps in surprise, but whether it is instinctive or out of pure want, she lays her head on my chest. The tips of my fingers find comfort on her spine, and with smooth strokes, I massage up and down her back.
“It’s almost like nothing’s changed, huh? I mean, I know we aren’t together anymore. Still, it feels like you’re just you, and I’m just me,” Kennedy confides.
“The only thing that’s changed is you and I aren’t together.” My hand rests on the back of her head, holding her close. I feel her breath through my t-shirt as she tries to regulate the gulps of air she’s taking in. “I’m still me, Kennedy. When I’m with you, know that I’m still me. I’m going to do and say things that make you believe somethin
g different, but I can promise you, I’m still the me you know.” My fingers brush the soft ends of the hair cascading down her back.
She hiccups as she pulls away from me. “This is going to be hard, isn’t it?”
I step back until I run into the row across from her. “It’s going to be impossible, Ken. This will kill me.”
“Then why are you doing this to us?”
The tears falling slowly down her cheeks torment me.
A bead of sweat forms on my forehead and I wipe it away. “Because you’re perfect, and I’m not going to destroy you before you have a chance to become who you’re meant to be.”
Not holding Kennedy makes my heart ache from the loss of her touch. As I walk away, I know I shouldn’t look back at her, but I do, anyway. When it comes to Kennedy, I’m hopeless. Streams of tears running down her face make me wonder if I’m doing the right thing by her.
What if I’m wrong?
I’m going to screw this all up if I haven’t already.
Chapter Seven
Kennedy
“What happened?” Violet asks, throwing her satchel over her shoulder.
She can see I’m upset. Red rimmed eyes aren’t easy to hide.
“I was just being stupid. I said things that I shouldn’t have said, and Graham took the time to console me,” I say as I slam my locker door shut. “It meant nothing.” I’m not sure if I believe that sentiment.
When Graham held me, it was more than him comforting me as if I was some obligation. His touch was sincere. Nothing between us is forced. No breakup or time can change that. Everything between Graham and me is natural, fluid, and pure like a roaring river.
“Graham and you will always mean something, Ken. You and I both know that, so don’t downplay it to make yourself feel better.” Violet’s eyes widen and she turns to walk toward the cafeteria. I have no choice, but to follow. Giving myself a mental pep talk, I brush the invisible wrinkles from my shirt and walk down the hall.