“Oh, Aggie.” He pulled her to his chest and kissed her forehead. “It’s going to be okay. It’ll be over in a few days and you can get back to being Agnes. It’s not the end of the world, babe.”
“But it feels like it.” Her voice cracked. “It isn’t fair, Ben. I just want to be who I want to be, when I want to be. Why do stupid bodily functions have to ruin it? If I’d been born a boy I would never have to worry about stupid Aunt Flo fucking up my month.”
“Millions of girls would agree with you.” He snickered. “But I get it. If I’d been born a boy I wouldn’t have gone under the knife to get rid of my tits and I could pee standing up. Sometimes life is a bitch, but we make the best of it, don’t we?”
“We try.” Her voice was soft and low, quivering from God only knew what emotions she was feeling as she cuddled against him. In moments like this, she seemed so small and fragile; Benji wanted to protect her from the world. “I just wish everything could fall into place like it did for Lydia. She’s so lucky.”
“Yeah, she is. But you know what? Our time’s coming, Ags. You just wait and see. We’ll get a fresh start in Prairie Town.”
“I do want to move there. I really do…”
“But?” He asked, lifting an eyebrow.
“What if when we get there, I still end up alone?”
You and me both.
“That’s not going to happen.” He reassured her, lacing their fingers together and lifting her hand to his lips. Smiling against her knuckles, he met her gaze and winked. “You are far too awesome to end up alone.”
“Thanks.” She sniffled and wiped at her eyes, breaking eye contact as her cheeks deepened with a blush. “But…I can’t help having that fear, Ben. I’m not sure that God made a person for me.”
“Well, I’m not sure that God really works out those small details in life, Aggie, but somebody apparently does, and I don’t believe they created you without creating someone for you, too. He’s just waiting for you to find him. Or her,”—he added quickly—“you just need to be patient.”
“I hope it’s a him.” She admitted sadly. “And I hope he’s in Prairie Town.”
“Then he is. He’s definitely in Prairie Town.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because it’s what you want, and I want you to have everything you want. You deserve it, Aggie.”
“You deserve it, too.” She whispered, wiping at her eyes a final time. “Let’s get out of here. It’s depressing me.”
“Sure.” He helped her up and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her as tightly as he could. “How about some chocolate and wine?”
“Oh, Benji. You speak to my heart, I tell you. If you weren’t potentially taken, I’d kiss you right now.”
“Potentially taken?”
“Don’t play coy with me now. I know what’s going to happen when we get to Prairie Town.”
“You think so, huh?”
“I know so.” Ags ran her fingers through her hair and smiled, her watery eyes sparkling. “There’s something between you and Laney, isn’t there?”
“Um…” With a bashful grin, Benji turned and exited the bathroom, making his way back into the kitchen with Aggie hot on his trail.
“Don’t ‘um’ me! I know you, Benjamin Palmer—you like her and she likes you. Anybody can see that.”
“Yeah, maybe.” He reached for the beer he left on the counter when he walked in the door and put them in the fridge. It would just have to wait for another day; he was completely okay with drinking wine if it made Aggie happy.
“Pfft. Don’t maybe me, you adorable monkey.” She tousled his hair and smiled—something he enjoyed seeing. “I remember the glances you exchanged at the Halloween party.”
“Uh huh.”
“And then again at the second Christmas dinner.”
“Right.”
“And we can’t forget the lingering gaze during New Years! She kissed you on the cheek, didn’t she?”
And probably would have done more if we’d been alone. He thought, his chest tightening at the memory. God, if he’d only been brave enough to turn his head a few centimeters that night…
“Ah ha!” Aggie exclaimed, causing him to jump slightly. “I knew it. There’s the look.”
“What look?”
“The look you get when you’re thinking about her. You’re like a love-struck little puppy; it’s adorable.”
He rolled his eyes. “God, Aggie. Stop.” With a chuckle and a shake of his head, he reached into the freezer and grabbed a container of chocolate ice cream, holding it out towards her as a peace offering. “Okay, so I dig her. It’s obvious. Sue me.”
“I don’t want to sue you,”—she snatched the container from him and batted her eyelashes—“I just want to make the perfect match.”
“Oh, no you don’t.” He snatched a beer, a wise idea at the moment, and shut the door. Leaning against it with one foot propped up, he popped open the can and guzzled it as if he had been deprived of something to drink for days.
Swallowing the last mouthful, he crushed the aluminum between his fingers and tossed it towards the trashcan.
Nothing but net.
“While I appreciate your intentions, I don’t think this is something you can just ‘set up’, Aggie. Laney is a real person with real feelings—as am I. If it’s meant to be…it’ll happen.”
“Oh, it’s going to happen.” She waggled her eyebrows. “It’s inevitable. I can see it now.” Whirling around and placing the ice cream on the counter, she hugged her arms around herself and turned to face him once more. “You’re going to grab her up in your big strong arms and kiss the daylights out of her. She’ll swoon from the mere sexiness of your presence! Then we’ll have to have a double wedding because you’ll be ridiculously in love.”
Dropping his head and releasing a snort of amusement, Benji opened the door to grab another beer.
“You’ve lost your mind.” He commented. “I doubt anything like that is going to happen. Marriage and me?”
“Why not?”
“I don’t really think I’m the marrying type. Sure, I can be a great boyfriend—but a husband? Really?”
“Don’t say that.” Her smile faded and her expression became somber. “Please don’t say that, Benji. If you say you can never be a husband, then that means I can never be a…well, whatever I may become to someone. Lydia is about to become someone’s wife and if she can do it, well, damn it! We can, too. We have just as much right, don’t we?”
“Y-yeah, we do.” His eyebrows pinched together as he watched her shift her weight from one foot to the other nervously. Back and forth. Back and forth. “Aggie, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She blinked. “I’m just tired. I think I need to lie down.”
The sudden change of mood gave him whiplash, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to confront her during such a delicate time.
I need Lydia’s help.
Abandoning the container of ice cream, Aggie silently turned around and disappeared down the hallway. Her bedroom door slammed and Benji winced.
“Fuck.” He muttered, wiping his hand down the length of his face.
What was happening to his best friend?
Chapter 3
Laney
“I really like the baby blue, but I also really like the lavender. What do you think, Laney?”
Glancing away from the TV, Laney stared at the two pieces of fabric her sister was holding up and sighed. “I’m a purple lover, Lydia. My opinion will be totally biased.”
“That’s okay.” Lydia smiled, lowering both pieces of fabric to her lap. “I’m a purple lover, too. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. You really need to stop asking that.” Sinking back on the couch, she tucked her legs beneath herself and focused her attention on the episode of Supernatural currently playing.
“But I’m not going to stop asking.”
The TV turned off and Laney muttered beneath her breath, giving her
sister a side-eyed glare.
“Laney, you’ve been acting weird for the last little while and I want to know what’s going on.”
“You’ve got a wedding to worry about—I’m fine, seriously.”
Lydia sighed. It was a long, dramatic sigh and Laney knew it meant she was growing impatient with her; she’d done the very same thing many times when they were younger.
“How many times do I have to tell you that a silly wedding will never be as important to me as you are?”
Ugh. Why did Lydia have to make her feel so bad? She knew that there was a bond between them that was stronger than anything else was in the world, but why couldn’t her sister just understand she didn’t want to worry her? There wasn’t really anything to worry about anyway…right?
“Laney, please.” Lydia slid onto the couch and wrapped an arm around her, stroking her hair in a comforting manner. “I love you. I just want you to be okay and you really don’t seem like you are right now. And,”—she sucked in a quick breath—“Kelly told me about what happened at the store. Has Devin been bothering you?”
Her skin crawled at the mere mention of his name. He was like a plague there would never be a cure for. He was starting a fire in her head and she didn’t know how to put it out.
That. Bastard.
“He’s just stupid.”
“Well, tell me something I don’t know.” Lydia laughed dryly. “I’m not worried about him—I’m worried about you. Is there really nothing I can do to help?”
Turning her head to gaze at her, Laney’s expression softened. “It would really help if you’d stop hounding me about it. I’m fine, Lydia. It’s not anything I haven’t dealt with before.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lydia’s perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowed. “What do you have to deal with?”
“Oh my god.” Laney groaned, pressing a cold palm to her forehead. “Lydia, it’s…never mind. Seriously, I’m okay. I’m a big girl.”
“Yes, I understand that. But if you don’t tell me then I’ll just ask Jeb.” She stated in a sing-song voice.
Oh, damn it. She had her. They both knew Jeb would blab about it without restraint.
“Okay. Fine.”
Lydia seemed pleased with herself as she straightened her posture and rested her hands upon her lap, smiling gently. “I’m all ears.”
“I really don’t even know where to start,” she admitted. “I mean, it’s not something I’m proud of; it’s not something you just bring up in every day conversation, Lydia.”
Lydia peered at her with sadness and worry in her eyes. “Is it really that bad, Laney?”
“To me it is.” She swallowed hard and dropped her gaze to the floor. Somehow, the little stars on her socks suddenly became the most fascinating things in the world. “I’ve put Mom and Dad through hell, Lydia. Worse than you can ever imagine.”
“What do you mean?” Lydia scooted closer.
“I mean that while you were gone… a lot of stuff happened here. Stuff I’m not proud of.”
“Well, we all do stuff in life we aren’t proud of, Laney. It’s called making mistakes. I’m sure it couldn’t have been that bad. You’re still alive.”
She laughed weakly and shook her head, finally meeting her sister’s gaze. “Yeah, but back then I really didn’t want to be. Alive, I mean.”
“Laney.” Lydia whispered in disbelief. “W-what?”
“See? I told you.” Getting up from the couch, she paced back and forth nervously. This was never a conversation she intended to have with her sister. Lydia had been so fortunate not to witness the meltdown, and she was especially grateful her sister hadn’t been around for the suicide attempt.
If only I could take it back…
“It all started when I was thirteen. You were gone with Gran and Mama had been putting a lot of pressure on me to be my best—my absolute best: my hair, my clothes, my teeth, and even my makeup. You remember me, Lydia,”—she frowned—“I was training to be some sort of freak debutante. And after you left with Gran, Mama became even more determined to turn me into the perfect little lady. I hated it.”
“I suppose she was angry with me leaving.” Lydia frowned. “And she needed to hang on to her real daughter.”
“But I knew I wasn’t her only daughter. We all knew it—even she knew it. But damn if she didn’t ride my back over it all. I thought Jeb would get the brunt end of her wrath. I figured she’d be fawning over him since he was the only son she had left…but….”
“But it somehow fell on you.” Lydia bowed her head and sighed. “She gave you hell because of me.”
“It’s not your fault, Lydia. She was trying to deal with it the only way she could. Did it make sense? No. But it still happened. I became her obsession. She entered me in all sorts of competitions, against really pretty girls and—”
“You were the prettiest.” Lydia interrupted, staring at her.
“Huh?”
“Laney, you’re talking about yourself as if you were hideous. You’ve always been beautiful.”
“Thanks…”
“I know you don’t believe me and I hate that you don’t, but you…God, all I wanted was to be half as pretty as you when I transitioned. Didn’t you know that?”
“Really?” Her chest tightened and her lungs felt like the air was being squeezed from them.
“Really really. Don’t seem so surprised.”
“I’m sorry.” Her shoulders sank. “My mind just got bad for a really long time. I started to rebel. I did things…”
“What kind of things?”
“Well, I chopped off my hair for starters. Mom nearly died over that.”
“I knew something didn’t feel right about that haircut.” Lydia murmured. “Ugh. I should have paid closer attention. I’m so sorry, Laney.”
“Again, it’s not your fault. You had your own stuff to deal with, Lyds. I was just trying to get Mama to understand I was tired of being her personal Barbie. I just wanted to be me.”
“You always were such a tomboy. There’s nothing wrong with that. But I know the haircut isn’t the only mistake you made… is it?”
“No.”
The seconds passed by torturously slow as Laney tried to prepare herself for her sister’s next question. She knew it was coming and she knew Lydia deserved the truth. Of all people, her big sister deserved to know what happened while she was gone.
But what if she hates me after this? What if she thinks differently of me?
“You don’t have to tell me.” Lydia whispered, much to her surprise. “But I need you to remember that I love you, Laney, and I’m always here for you no matter what.”
And that’s all it took. The pain and anguish she’d held in for over eight years finally broke free, and with it came salty, hot, relentless tears. As they spilled down her cheeks and she began to cry, Laney found comfort in the warm embrace of her sister’s arms.
“I tried to kill myself.” Her confession slipped past her quivering lips in a broken whisper. “I’m so sorry, Lydia. I tried to do it… and I almost succeeded. It’s a miracle that I’m still here.”
“Oh, Laney.” Lydia sobbed, pressing kisses to the top of her head as she held her. “Oh, Laney. Why?”
“I just couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t want to suffer anymore. I’m so sorry.”
“Shhh. It’s okay.” Lydia sniffled, rocking her back and forth like a small child. “I’m so glad you’re still alive.”
“I’m not.” She squeaked, her lungs so painfully tight that it was nearly impossible to find her voice. “Sometimes I hate so badly that I’m still here.”
“Why?” Lydia sounded horrified as she pulled back enough to stare at her. The moisture in her eyes made Laney feel so terrible. Was it not enough to drop the first bomb on her? Did she really have to add on to her sister’s worry by admitting she wished she were dead?
It was only then that Laney realized she couldn’t stop the words coming out of her mouth. They need
ed to come out.
“My brain is so messed up. Something’s wrong with me.” She shrugged her shoulders helplessly and wiped at her cheeks. “Some days are okay, but mostly I just want to stop existing. I know that’s wrong.”
“Laney.” Lydia’s bottom lip quivered and she shook her head. “Do Mom and Dad know about this? Jeb?”
“God, no. No, no. They’d have me admitted and I can’t… go back to that.”
“What?” Lydia gasped. “You’ve… you’ve been admitted before?”
“Yes. When I tried to kill myself. Oh God.” She pinched at the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut. Wave after wave of shame and embarrassment slammed into her as the memories flooded her mind.
“Laney, what have you done?” Mr. McIntosh wailed as he gripped her shoulders and shook her roughly. “Don’t you dare fall sleep, do you hear me? Stay awake.”
“I can’t.” She slurred. “I’m too tired.”
“Oh, god. Oh, god!” Her mother cried. “She took the whole bottle, Ethan. The whole bottle!”
“Damn it, Laney. Why, baby?” His voice cracked as he cradled her to his chest, stroking her hair. “Don’t do this to me. Please.”
“An ambulance is on the way.” 13-year-old Jeb said as he appeared in the doorway.
Laney opened her heavily lidded eyes to stare at her brother and she knew if she survived this—even though she hoped she wouldn’t—she’d never forget the look of heartache and disappointment in his eyes.
“Laney,” her father whispered tearfully. “Just stay with me, baby. Everything’s going to be okay. It’ll be all right.”
Those were the last words she heard before she slipped into unconsciousness.
She awoke to the sound of voices—a lot of voices. They sounded so far away.
“Somebody get me the charcoal, now!” A woman demanded. “And get an IV in this kid. Her blood pressure is nearing stroke level.”
“We’re going to lose her, Doctor.”
“Don’t say that, damn it. Just get me some charcoal.”
She tried to open her eyes, but they were too heavy, and she was comfortably warm.
Was she in heaven?
90 Days (Prairie Town Book 2) Page 3