Missing Pieces

by Meredith Tate

  In two weeks, I’ll be Mrs. Tracy Macey. A few weeks later, the pregnancy questions will arise: Are you pregnant? Have you been trying? Aren’t you so excited for Baby Macey?

  It makes my skin crawl.

  It’s late by the time I arrive at Harker’s Woods for my private soiree. I relish being swallowed whole by the dark forest as I step past the tree line. There’s a certain invincibility about being invisible.

  Sam mocked me for wearing a thick gray jacket in the middle of summer. He said I should dress better for my big party. Who does he think he is, my mother? He thinks I’m at a bar. Honestly, the fact that he even bought that lame excuse flaunts his stupidity. When do I ever freely go to a bar? Especially after the raging hangover following Toni’s party last week—no thanks.

  Little does Sam know, I plan to spend the night lying alone on the treehouse floor, and I want to be toasty enough to last for hours. Hence, the many layers of clothing.

  I amble down the dark walkway, holding my cellphone at arm’s-length for light; the green glow illuminates my path. Piney scent bites my nose, sparking my brain to déjà vu. My footsteps crunch and crackle against leaves and underbrush beneath my feet.

  My shoe catches on a protruding root, and I trip, stumbling into the clearing. Catching myself mid-tumble, I lay eyes upon my fortress of solitude, and the world freezes.

  Home.

  I race up the ladder like a child, scaling the mighty fortress. Even as an adult, this treehouse enchants me. I wriggle into the fort.

  I’m not alone.

  Piren whirls around. My stomach lurches.

  No. I can’t see you. Not tonight. Not two weeks before my wedding.

  “Trace.”

  My breath hitches in my throat. I leap toward the ladder, but he grabs my sleeve, and I don’t fight him.

  I shouldn’t be here. We shouldn’t be here together.

  “Trace. This.” He points. I follow his finger to our carved initials.

  Fuck. My heart stops. He knows.

  “Did you do this?”

  I look from the graffiti to my best friend.

  No. No no no.

  “Trace. Did you do this?”

  My heart hammers in my chest.

  I could deny it. Would he believe me?

  “Trace. Look me in the eyes. Please. Tell me the truth. Did. You. Do. This?”

  His brown eyes catch mine—the same eyes I remember from childhood, from dancing in the gym, from cocoa in the café, from sorting in the Lab. It’s Piren. My Piren.

  He knows me better than anyone. He’ll know. He already knows. I can’t lie to him, not to my best friend.

  I inhale a shaky breath, filling my lungs to capacity. Slowly, I force my head to nod.

  He exhales a wavering gust of air. With one swift motion, he pulls me into an embrace. It’s just like nine years ago, in his parents’ doorway, when we were freshmen. Before it all went to shit. My body tightens in his arms. I squeeze my eyes shut, burrowing my face into his sweatshirt.

  No. We can’t. It’s not right.

  His warmth seeps through my jacket, prickling goose bumps down my neck. Burning water stings my eyes, breaking the dam and flowing down my cheeks.

  I can’t.

  My stiff arms grow limp as rubber, and I entwine them around my best friend, pressing our bodies together. His comforting familiarity smothers my senses, drawing me in. It’s a forbidden hug, but I can’t pull away. Not yet.

  This is wrong. I’m weak. Piren is my vice.

  This is our place, the place we hid as children, wishing our days together never died. Maybe the best days of my life happened long ago, and I’m destined to spend the remainder of my miserable years fondly remembering my childhood. Maybe untapped feelings are ghosts, doomed to haunt me until I die, surrounded by my Partner and my family, but still alone.

  This is insane. We’re two betrothed individuals, completely committed to our Partners. Yet here we stand, together, unable to sever a friendship never intended to be.

  I’m nauseous. I don’t want to be here. I’m prolonging the inevitable gash in my heart.

  I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what I am. It isn’t supposed to be like this. Why couldn’t I have fallen hopelessly in love with Sam and forgotten about Piren? Why couldn’t I have been normal and not such a fuck-up?

  I step back, pushing my best friend away.

  I can’t hurt him again.

  He scrunches his forehead, parting his lips slightly. “Trace…”

  “I’ll go.”

  Before he can protest, I’m halfway down the ladder.

  “Trace!”

  I’ll go straight to the Mayor’s office and take the blame. I’ll throw myself on his desk and beseech him to spare my friend. I’ve endangered Piren’s safety for the last time.

  “Trace! Wait!”

  I hit the ground running.

  “Trace!”

  I sprint toward the forest full-speed, but he races after me and bounds in front, stopping me in my tracks. Damn him and his long legs. Hands on his knees, he catches his breath four feet away.

  “Trace…what if…oh God, this is so stupid…” He throws his hands behind his head and meets my eyes. “What if…what if there were no Assignments?”

  “Piren…What—”

  “If there were no Assignments, no Partners, no Ceremonies, if there never were. What would that have meant for us?”

  I freeze. I’m completely lost in his eyes.

  “No Partners, Trace. No Lara, no Sam.” He steps toward me. “What would have happened between us?”

  Stop. I can’t.

  “Would we have been friends?” Another step closer. “Or something else?”

  “What do you—”

  “No.” He grabs my arms. “You know what I mean. If I was never betrothed to Lara. If you’d never been with Sam.”

  “That’s impossible, Piren, because things are the way they are, and—”

  “No. I didn’t ask that. Answer the damn question.”

  “I—”

  He kisses me before I can speak. My heart rockets into the stratosphere. Every part of me floods with warmth. I succumb to him, allowing my lips to move with his. My dizzying mind whirls into a haze as I taste my best friend. I entwine my fingers in his soft hair, pulling him closer, savoring every second.

  Seventeen years built up, seventeen years my best friend. Seventeen years of memories, of thoughts, of everything my heart never put into words, spins into a million feelings at once, rushing through my body.

  All the things I never felt with Sam.

  Piren Allston

  Oh my God, I kissed Trace.

  Shit.

  What the fuck was I thinking?

  Leave. I should leave.

  I can’t. I can’t leave her anymore.

  Tracy Bailey

  An hour passed since we kissed in the moonlight. Maybe two. Time passes, but we remain. We lie on the floor of our treehouse, my head on his chest, his hand in mine, my thumb drawing circles on his palm. Our feet dangle off the side of our haven, into the darkness below.

  His scent overwhelms my senses as I inhale, clinging to every last drop of this moment. It’s the same scent that always meant my best friend was here.

  Piren watches the stars, but I watch him, studying every freckle on his cheek. I snuggle closer, burrowing into the nook under his arm. Warm breeze drifts over us, blowing my hair over his face.

  “Trace?”

  I brush my curls off his eyes. “Hmm?”

  “We could do it.”

  “Do what?”

  “Run away. Go to Lornstown.”

  Wait, what?

  That’s the not the answer I expected.

  “What?” I prop myself up on my elbow. “No. That’s crazy.”

  “Why?” He sits up. “Why is it crazy?”

  Why? How could that suggestion ever not be crazy?

  “Why? Because us, Piren! Our families, our Partners. Lornstown isn
’t habitable. It’s hell; it’s for criminals. That’s why.” I trace my finger down his cheek. “No.”

  “We could be together.”

  No. He can’t go to Lornstown. He can’t ruin his life for me. I won’t let my nightmares come to fruition. No.

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s irrational. Crazy.”

  “Maybe it is! Maybe it is crazy!” He raises his voice. “It’s completely and totally crazy! But that’s what this always was, Trace! That’s what we always were. Crazy.”

  “N—”

  “Our friendship was crazy. That time you showed up at my house nine years ago and kissed me, that was crazy! And I think about that all the damn time!”

  “You…you do?”

  “Yes! Every second of every damn day. Every second I’m with Lara. Every damn second. I try to focus on something else, anything else, and I can’t. Just like I couldn’t crop you out of that drawing. Just like I couldn’t send you away Christmas Eve. Just like I came here tonight. It’s absolutely insane, completely and totally crazy. But that’s us.”

  “I won’t see your face marred,” I whisper. “Not because of me.”

  “Tell me, Trace. Tell me you don’t feel the same way, and we’ll go our separate ways. You can go home to Sam and pretend tonight never happened. I’ll respect that. But if you tell me there’s a chance, an inkling, even the slightest most miniscule possibility that maybe, just maybe, you could feel the same way…then we owe it to each other to try. Just to try. See for ourselves.”

  “But—”

  “I let you go too many times, Trace. I can’t do it anymore.”

  I leap to my feet. He jumps up beside me.

  No. This is a bad effing idea.

  I need to voice a rebuttal, to save him from making the worst mistake of his life. This is crazy. My wedding is in two weeks—to a different man. A man I’m supposed to love forever. And here’s this other man, my best friend, telling me all these things he’s not supposed to say. Things we’re not supposed to feel.

  But his words shoot through my body like a poison arrow, filling my core with venomous longing. A bull’s-eye to the heart.

  “Trace…please…Say something…”

  I swallow down the sticky lump growing in my throat. “I can’t see you hurt.”

  He gives me a half-smile. “You don’t need to protect me. I know what I want.” He kisses my cheek. “I want you.” My heart flutters.

  This is right. I could step off this treehouse and float…

  No!

  “Tell me you’ll do it, Trace, tell me we’ll go. We can go tomorrow in secret, just try for a night, and if we hate it, if it’s awful, we come right back home and never speak of it again. I promise. Just one night, and then we make a decision. Nothing permanent until then. No pressure, I promise.”

  “Upheaving your life isn’t a decision to be so frigging rash about.”

  “Rash? You think this is rash? God, Trace, come on. I’ve known you my entire life for freak’s sake.”

  “You’d throw it away. Just like that.” I glance sideways at him. “Your parents. Your brother. Your friends. Your fancy car. Your…Lara.”

  He nods quickly, his eyes fixed on mine.

  Great. You’ll get your face slashed and then change your mind, and you won’t be able to come back, and it’ll be my frigging fault.

  “No.” I furrow my brows. “I don’t believe you.”

  “I’d do it, Trace! I swear I would! What the hell more can I do to prove that to you? I…I need you.”

  This is a bad fucking decision, but I can’t fight it.

  I don’t want to fight it.

  I close my eyes.

  “Okay.”

  My heart lightens as the word slips from my mouth. He pulls me into his arms, a huge smile spreading across his face. I giggle into his sleeve.

  “So, let’s do it,” he says. “Let’s go to Lornstown.”

  Piren Allston

  Saying good-bye to Trace leaves a vile, visceral taste in my mouth. Knots twist in my stomach as I watch her drive away, even though I’ll see her again in the morning.

  We solidified our plan before we parted, standing in the moon’s shadow of our treehouse.

  “No one can know about this,” she said, wringing her hands. “I mean, traveling to Lornstown? It isn’t exactly a beach resort.”

  “I won’t tell anyone.”

  “I know.”

  I held my hand up, and she pressed her palm to mine. Her chest rose and fell with uneven breaths.

  “Nervous?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “I don’t buy it. You’re fidgeting.”

  “Sorry.” She thrust her quivering hands to her sides. I caught one and laced her fingers with mine.

  “What are you afraid of?” I asked. “Being caught? That they’ll Banish you for spending the night in Lornstown?”

  “Not exactly.” She bit her lip.

  “Then what?”

  She brushed my cheek with her fingertips. “I like your face.”

  I laughed. “Well, I like yours.”

  “No, I mean, I like your face. I don’t want it scarred.”

  “What?” I grinned. “Not gonna like me anymore if they cut me?”

  “Don’t even go there.”

  I rested my hand on her trembling arm. “It’ll be fine; you’ll see. We’ll be together, and we’ll never want to come home. It won’t even be an issue. Don’t worry.”

  She gave me a weak smile. “I hope you’re right.”

  We stood in silence under the stars, holding each other’s hands.

  “Are you scared?” She squeezed my hand.

  “No…” I smiled sheepishly. “Maybe a little, yeah.”

  “Me too. You need to promise me you won’t tell anyone about this. I need to know we’ll have the choice. If it sucks, we can come home, and no one will ever know about any of—”

  “—I already promised—”

  “We won’t make any final decisions till we spend the night there. Sunday morning, we’ll decide if we actually want to stay in Lornstown, but if we don’t, we come straight home. Can’t come home if someone found out and we’re already Banished.”

  “I promise. It’s your choice. If you hate it there, hate being with me, we’ll come straight back home.”

  “It’s our choice,” she said. “And I won’t hate being with you.”

  “Well, then, we won’t have a problem!”

  She sighed. “We’ll see.”

  “You better not chicken out,” I said with a wink.

  “You either!” She shoved my arm.

  “I won’t.”

  She cocked her head. “How do you know?”

  “Well…I guess…years ago, at my brother’s First Kiss, this girl Ashley caused a big mess.”

  “I remember reading about that.”

  “Yeah, you and your trashy newspaper clippings.”

  “They’re not trashy!”

  “Yeah, yeah. I hated seeing them Banish her, ’cause to me, Banishment meant pain was all she had. It sucked. She withstood hell, but she left hand-in-hand with the other man—the man I thought ruined her whole damn life. I never got it before. Spent years wishing things went different for her. I guess…I don’t pity her anymore. Because I understand.”

  “Understand what?”

  “Why she did it.”

  Trace shuffled her feet. “And what if we decide to stay? Then what?”

  “Then we’ll stay.” I shrugged. “It’ll be great.”

  “And our weddings?”

  I smirked. “Your parents might lose a few deposits.”

  “Oh, they’ll be devastated.” She gave me a lopsided grin. “About the money, of course. Not about me running away. ‘Where has that little bitch run off to? Ladies attend their weddings! Goodness gracious!’” She flipped her hair in an exaggerated display.

  “Two years apart and you’re still the weird
est person I know.”

  “And yet you wanna run away with me. Who’s weird now?”

  We shared a nervous laugh.

  “So, you’d really do it,” she said. “Leave your family. Go to Lornstown. For me.”

  “I would indeed.”

  “Sounds like a poor life choice.” She tightened her hand around mine. “You can back out, you know.”

  “Stop that.” I kissed her forehead. “I’m going. End of discussion.”

  Her eyes ignited, sparkling in the moonlight. She kissed me under the stars, and the whole world disintegrated as we said good night.

  I drive home, flooded with a million thoughts.

  Maybe the odds of an un-Assigned couple succeeding are slim, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll live in Lornstown with Trace a thousand years before I live one more day here without her. Tonight can’t fly fast enough before I see my best friend again.

  I zip through the front door of my apartment and almost smash into Lara.

  “I love you, Piren Allston.”

  “I love you, Lara Goodren.”

  The hollow words float off my tongue. I’m an actor reciting lines in a meaningless script, going through motions until tomorrow.

  Lara lingers by the kitchen as I pour myself a glass of water. My hands shake so bad I can’t hold a damn thing still, and water sloshes onto the counter. I slug it back in two gulps.

  The sooner I sleep, the sooner I wake, the sooner I meet Trace at the train station.

  “Night,” I mutter, putting my glass in the sink.

  Lara grabs my collar and hungrily presses her lips to mine. Nothing flutters inside me. I try to kiss her back, but the movement won’t come.

  She pulls back. “Is something wrong?”

  “What? No! Sorry, just tired.”

  She tilts her head. “Where’ve you been?”

  Her high voice feigns innocence, but her question comes laced with poison.

  “Went to my parents’ house, just checking in.”

  “Why didn’t you bring me?”

  “Oh, sorry.” I tug my sleeve. “It was just a quick visit.”

  “You were gone awhile.”

  “Sorry. Guess I lost track of time.”

  “Right…” She watches me through the corners of her narrowing eyes. “I bought some decorations, to fill our new place after the wedding.”