Almost Everything (Nickayla Quinn Trilogy Book 2)

by Jasmine Carolina

  He doesn’t respond, but I can feel his presence behind me. He zips my dress up and then places a soft kiss on my shoulder. I turn around and give him a smile as I grab my heels out of the closet. I slip on a pair of nude pumps with the platform in the front because they match the belt at my waist. Once I have them on, I face Colin, and he’s regarding me with an expression of curiosity.

  “What?” I turn back and forth in front of the vanity, staring at myself from every angle. “Do I look bad?”

  He shakes his head, coming over to me and wrapping his arms around me from behind. “Not at all, sweetheart. I’m just thinking, it should be a sin for you to look this good on the day that we’re meant to mourn my dad’s passing.”

  My chest constricts and I meet his gaze in the mirror. I drop my voice to a whisper. “I can change…”

  He shakes his head, grabbing a lock of my hair and twining it between his fingers before grabbing my waist and guiding me until I turned around to face him. His hands rest at the small of my back and he lowers his forehead so that it touches mine. “No. Don’t change. You look stunning. And I admire you.” He pauses, his green eyes boring through me. “If it weren’t for you and your strength, I wouldn’t even be here. I love you so much.”

  I smile, because little does he know, my strength comes from him. He gave it to me.

  “I just love you.” I pause. “I talked to Michie this morning, and Brody text me a while ago. They’re going to meet us at the church.”

  His forehead lifts and he gazes at me incredulously.

  “They’re coming?” he asks.

  I laugh at him, because it amazes me that he’s shocked by the notion of Michele and Brody showing up on this day. They were the first people that I contacted after Colin’s best friend Jamie, once we got news of Mr. Westwick’s passing. It wasn’t because I wanted to share all of his private business with my friends, but it was because I knew how much he cared for them, and how much they cared for him in return. I knew that once they knew what he was going through, they’d go all out to support him in his time of need.

  “Babe, of course they’re coming. They love you. They want to be there for you. And I want you to let them.”

  He nods, and I know that, even if only temporarily, I’ve won a small battle. He’s going to allow someone besides me to be strong for him and support him, and considering how prideful he is, I feel like I’ve made exceptional progress.

  “Are you ready to go?” I ask, because if I don’t ask now, we’ll never get out of this house.

  Colin is the type of person who likes to avoid things, and I know that if I let him, he’ll avoid going to the funeral and dealing with his father’s death like the Goddamn plague. So, I have to push him a little bit.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever be ready. But let’s go…before I back out of this completely,” he says, his voice small.

  I take his hand and lead him out to the living room. I leave him sitting on the couch, with Mads sitting opposite from him.

  “Are we leaving?” she asks.

  “Yeah. I’m going to get Suze,” I tell her.

  “I’ve got it—”

  “No.” I realize that I reply hastier than I should have, and it’s because I don’t want this bitch anywhere near my girl cave. “I’ll get her.”

  Madilyn blanches a little bit, but wisely, she doesn’t say anything. I walk to the spare room of our apartment and knock on the door. I knock again, and when I don’t get a response, I push the door open a little bit.

  Susanna is sitting on the bed, her shoulder length hair flopping around as she pulls on her shoes.

  “Hey, Suze,” I say, stepping inside the room. “We’re going to leave in a little bit. Are you ready?”

  She sniffs a little bit, and then flips her hair as she turns to look at me. “About as ready as I’ll ever be, I guess. I’ll be out in a second.”

  I nod, walking over to the door and sighing.

  “Suze, if you need anything, you know—”

  “I said I’ll be out in a second!” she screams.

  I would be stunned by her outburst if it weren’t for the fact that her voice broke at the end of her sentence. Immediately after the words come out, she slaps her hand over her mouth and begins sobbing. I rush over to her, sitting on the bed beside her and tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. The movement seems to make her even more emotional, because she leans against me and buries her head in my shoulder as she cries.

  “It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay, Suze,” I promise her.

  She wraps her arms around my waist and shakes her head. “When? When will I be okay? I don’t even know…I don’t know how to act. Am I allowed to be sad because he was my dad? Am I allowed to grieve because he never laid a hand on me and treated me like a princess? Am I allowed to be happy that he’s gone because of how horribly he treated Keaton and Colin? Am I allowed to jump for joy because now they don’t have to see their demon in the flesh anymore? What’s the right emotion to feel right now, Nickayla? Because I feel them all! Every! Fucking! One! And it’s just…too much.”

  Her words strike a chord, because I’m fairly certain Colin and Keaton are asking themselves the same questions. Even so though, I’d wager that Susanna is taking this harder than they are, because from what she’s told me, she had a wonderful relationship with her father. And it must be incredibly difficult for her to even consider that he’s gone, regardless of what she knows about him.

  “There is no right emotion to feel, Susanna, and that’s fine. Feel how you want to feel. Be angry. Be sad. Be happy. Just let yourself feel. And Colin, Keaton, and I will be here to help you when the floodgates burst. I swear to you.”

  She nods against me, and I know immediately that we’re in for an unbearably long day. I’ve no way of telling how this day will end.

  …

  I can’t take my eyes off of Colin. There’s something up with him. He keeps leaving for long periods of time, and every time he comes back, he seems more detached emotionally than before he left. He doesn’t speak, and I’m not sure whether that’s a good thing or not.

  Brody, Michele, Keaton, Carly, Mads, Suze, Colin, and I all hold hands as we sit together on the pew. I’m not really sure any of us knows how to act besides Brody. He’s the only one of us who’s lost someone to death. And honestly, I’m not sure that any of us know how to treat each other in a time like this.

  I didn’t know Holden Westwick well, but what I did know of him, I didn’t like. I didn’t understand him, or how he could be so cruel. I don’t like how badly he hurt Colin, or how much those actions make me wonder how badly he hurt Keaton, too. I’m sad for the loss of human life, but I’m not so sure if I’m sad for the loss of this human life. I’m just…I’m not sure about any of it.

  Mrs. Westwick is standing behind the lectern, a handkerchief in hand as she sobs and speaks so quickly and hysterically that her words are unintelligible. Colin’s uncle Benson walks up to her, grabbing her hand to lead her back to her seat, but she fights with him. She wrestles against him and he pulls her so that she’s flush against his chest and he whispers something in her ear. Her face goes impossibly pale, and she nods at him. She grabs the microphone and lifts it to her mouth.

  “Keaton, why don’t you come say something about—hic—your father?” she asks.

  I turn to look at Keaton, and he’s shaking his head frantically, like he’s afraid that if he goes up there and speaks about his dad, he’s not going to have anything nice to say. He holds his wife’s hand in a death grip, and she runs her hand over his shoulder like she knows exactly what he’s feeling.

  Mrs. Westwick looks appalled at her eldest son, but his rejection of her offer doesn’t make her leave and follow Benson. Instead, she brings the microphone up to her mouth and forces a smile. “Susanna? Come, honey.”

  Susanna, unlike her brother, stands immediately, like she’s been waiting on someone to give her permission to speak about her father. She smooths out her dress as
she makes her way across the pew and out into the aisle. Her mother remains standing in place, and they wrap each other in a hasty and awkward embrace. Suze makes her way up to the lectern and clears her throat before wiping her eyes.

  “My dad wasn’t perfect,” she says, her voice ringing loud and clear, and I know that she’s hitting some deep down emotion within her brothers because both of their heads snap up and they lock gazes with her. “He was far from it. But one thing is for sure. He loved us. He loved my mom, and he loved me, and he loved my brothers most of all. But he didn’t…he didn’t know how to show it. He never knew how. He did the best that he could, I think. He did his best, and yeah, maybe he could’ve done better. But I don’t want to waste time on the could haves, the should haves…that’s not important. He did what he did, and it’s done. All that matters is that he’s in a better place now. A place where, hopefully, someone will teach him how to love us the right way from afar.” She pauses, locking gazes with me, and I know for a fact that she’s aiming her speech at her brothers, at her sister-in-law…at me. “Our dad wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot. But maybe where he is now…maybe he can learn to be.”

  She slams the microphone down against the lectern and rushes back to her seat. Instead of sitting between Mads and Colin, she quietly asks to sit between Colin and I. She grabs both of our hands and squeezes, and I squeeze back, just to show her that I’m proud of her, of what she said, and of feeling whatever the Hell she wanted to feel. To Hell with what anyone thinks about it.

  I look up to find Mrs. Westwick beaming with pride, and I hope that she’s satisfied. I hope she’s okay with the fact that her husband’s golden child got up and said something nice about him. Maybe now she’ll leave well enough alone.

  “Colin!” she exclaims.

  Of course not. Of course she can’t leave it alone. Good Lord.

  Immediately, he tenses up and starts shaking his head at his mother. I feel inexplicably sorry for him, for the fact that his mother is trying to put him on the spot on today of all days. She waves her hands frantically and gestures toward the lectern and holds the microphone out to him. Colin continues to shake his head, and his mother jerks the microphone up to her mouth.

  “Colin Daniel! Get up here and say something about your father!” she yells, and I wonder if she’s intoxicated right now, because she must be. Either that or she’s batshit crazy.

  She stands incredibly tall, as if to say that she won’t take “no” for an answer. So, Colin obliges. He lets go of his sister’s hand and gives me an apologetic look. I’m not sure what this expression means, but none of this is good. None of it.

  He stumbles out into the aisle and jogs up to the front of the church and snatches the microphone from his mother. She winces, but she doesn’t move. She plasters a smile on her face and gives a singular clap.

  Colin clears his throat and points at Mrs. Westwick. “Okay, mother. You wanted to say something about Dad? You got it, dude.” He chuckles a little bit before he brings the microphone up to his mouth. “MY DAD WAS AN ASSHOLE!” I cover my mouth with my hand and I jump to my feet at the same exact time that Keaton does. “He was a gigantic fucking asshole! Yeah, I said it!” We rush up to the lectern and I grab Colin’s hand, but he jerks away. “Leave me alone! You people are crazy! How can you sit here in your dark colors, wiping your tears with tissues? How can you mourn the loss of Holden Westwick? You should be celebrating it!”

  I grab his hand again, clapping another hand over his shoulder, completely horror-struck. “Colin, honey. Colin. Let’s go. Please.”

  He jerks away from me, and Keaton comes to my aid, trying to rein his brother in. Keaton wraps his arms around his brother’s middle, trying to drag him away, but Colin’s got a death-grip on the microphone. “Let me go! Keaton! Let GO!” When Keaton doesn’t surrender, Colin brings the microphone up to his mouth again and laughs into it. I cover my ears as he continues laughing maniacally. “He beat me!” After the truth is out, Keaton seems to concede to his brother. He lets go of Colin and steps back, dropping his head. I can tell that this truth is exactly what he was trying to avoid. Keaton just stands back as Colin pulls down the jacket of his tuxedo. He steps up to the lectern once more. “Every day, that man beat me! And you stupid fuckers have the nerve to cry over him? He beat me, and YOU!” He whips around and jabs his pointer finger at his brother’s chest. Keaton staggers a bit, but he doesn’t meet his brother’s gaze. “He tried to stab you! And you won’t let me tell the truth about him? Fuck you, Keaton! Fuck all of you! I won’t waste a Goddamn tear on my father.” He seemingly spits the last word. “I’m glad the bastard is gone. Good fucking riddance.”

  I take his hand, ready to lead him away and out of this place, but his mother approaches him, pure fury written in her expression.

  “Colin! Are you…how dare you?” the way she speaks to him, she seems more shocked than angry.

  “How dare I? How dare you? How dare you let him do what he did to us?” Colin replies, standing in his mother’s face and towering over her.

  She looks as though she’s about to cower, but she inhales deeply at the same exact time as I do. And suddenly, I know the reason behind this outburst. Colin’s drunk.

  “Have you been drinking?” Her voice is small.

  Colin doesn’t respond to her question. Instead he continues staring down at her like he’s daring her to challenge him.

  “Colin Daniel Westwick, you answer me right this second!” she screeches. “Have you been drinking?!”

  I watch as his shoulders stiffen. “Yes, Mother! Yes, I’ve been drinking! It’s the only way I could stomach coming here today! How can you stand there and cry over him like he was Mike-fucking-Brady? Huh? You’re just as fucking pathetic and evil as he was!”

  Mrs. Westwick doesn’t respond. Instead, she slaps Colin across the face. He staggers, and I jump in front of him. “Jesus fucking Christ!” I exclaim, glaring daggers at her. “Hasn’t he experienced enough abuse at the hands of your fucked up family?!”

  Her eyes widen and she steps back, looking down at her hand.

  I don’t waste another second with that God-awful woman. I wrap my arms around Colin and lead him away from her as he cradles his cheek in shock. On our way out, I lock eyes with Colin’s best friend Jamie, and he nods, though I’m not sure what for, exactly. We walk out the doors of the church. Colin and Keaton lean against the walls outside, and I watch as Colin slides down and brings his knees up.

  I stand in front of him, feeling nothing but sympathy for the boy I love in pain. Tears well up in his eyes as he continues to hold onto his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

  I shake my head, sitting down beside him as gracefully as I can in this dress, and taking his hand. “No, babe. I’m sorry.”

  Eight.

  Thank God it’s almost over.

  We haven’t set foot inside that church since what I’m calling “The Incident”, and thank God for that. Now, we’re standing outside, waiting for the pallbearers to emerge with Mr. Westwick’s body so that it can finally be laid to rest.

  I keep my fingers weaved through Colin’s, and my other hand runs up and down his arm.

  He’s rigid, his back straight and his head faced forward. He hasn’t moved a single limb since we got here, and he hasn’t spoken a single word or shed a single tear, but I know that he’s dying slowly inside. I can see it in his eyes.

  We watch as Keaton, Jamie, and a bunch of Colin’s uncles and cousins stand beside the casket and push it outdoors. Once everyone is out the door, I lead Colin out of the pew and into the aisle. We have to get out of here and get through the funeral. I’ve managed to keep him from another outburst, but I don’t exactly want him to get all zombie on me either.

  One foot in front of the other, I tell myself, because this is the first time in a long time that I’ve had to be the strong one.

  Usually, Colin’s my rock. He’s the stable one, a pillar for me to lean on when I can’t carry the weight of what hurts me
any longer. But this time, it’s me. I have to be his rock now, and I won’t let him fall. I won’t let him down. I will follow through.

  As we walk out of the double doors of the sanctuary, Colin pulls me in and tucks me into his side, for safekeeping, so that he knows I’m there. We follow the crowd, and all the while, he never speaks, never looks at me; he just puts one foot in front of the other in pure silence. All that’s needed to be said has been said. Although Mrs. Westwick wouldn’t agree, I think that Colin’s outburst was necessary. He needed to let go. He needed to get what he felt off of his chest in order for him to properly grieve. And honestly, I don’t care that he did it at his father’s funeral. Shit, I don’t even care that he had to get drunk to do it. All that matters is that he did it, and the hatred he’s held onto for his father is no longer a burden: he’s free. All that’s left is for us to place our flowers over Mr. Westwick’s casket, and watch him be lowered into the ground.

  I look up and Susanna is making her way over to us, her hand stifling her sobs. Within seconds, Keaton is joining us, and I feel for a moment as though we’re our own family. We’re a club, and only the people who really knew Holden Westwick are allowed in. Keaton comes up on my left side, an inconsolable Carly tucked into his side. He reaches out his right hand wordlessly, and I take it at the same exact moment that Carly embraces Susanna.

  I don’t have any qualms about holding Keaton’s hand, about supporting the person who was responsible for saving Colin before I met him. I hold his hand and offer any support that I can give him, because he’s my brother now, too, and he needs my support, just like I once needed his. Susanna’s and Carly’s sobs cancel each other out, and they’re both shaking, but it’s the boys that remain silent and still as stone.

  I spot Mrs. Westwick across from us, and she eyes us only for a second before she looks away and drops her dark red rose on top of her late husband’s casket. She walks away and doesn’t glance a second time in the direction of her children.