“Owww. It’s glass.”
“What is?” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.
“My foot. There’s glass in it.”
I sat upright. “Show me.”
“NO! Are you crazy? A few minutes ago you were seeing things that weren’t even there. What makes you think that, now, you’ll see what really is there?”
“Just give me a look.”
“Fine.” She swivelled her butt in the passenger side chair like a yoga instructor about to meditate and then stretched out her injured foot, flashing me more than what she should’ve. “Oops.” She giggled and covered up with the length of her dress. “Sorry. I’m sure it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”
I swallowed and put down my bottle. True, it wasn’t something I hadn’t seen, but it had been a long time, and her arse and legs were definitely nice to look at.
“Oh my,” she drawled. “Is it the alcohol or are you blushing?”
“It’s the alcohol,” I choked out.
“Uh huh.” Lilah leaned back against the door and opened her legs a little wider. “Be gentle with me.”
My dick stirred in my pants because dicks don’t always know what’s best for them, so I shifted in my seat, trying to ignore it and her, instead lifting her foot closer to my face to inspect it. Lilah’s skin was soft, her toenails dainty and painted blood red; they matched the cut on the edge of her heel.
She wiggled her toes.
“Stay still. I can see it.”
“But you’re tickling me.”
“I’m not doing it on purpose.”
She laughed and then held her breath, cheeks puffed.
“Nearly there … Got it.”
“Are you shitting me?” She wrenched her foot back.
“No. Well, I got some at least. Give it back here and let me check if there’s anything left.”
She stretched out again, and I couldn’t help but take note of how flexible she was.
“You must be one of those people who do things better when they’re drunk.” She slid her fingertip into her mouth and gently bit down on it.
I shifted my eyes back to her foot. “Maybe I am.”
“Oh yeah? So what else are you good at?”
“This.” I pressed the pads of my thumbs into her calf muscle and carefully massaged. I knew I shouldn’t have the moment I did it, but like my dick, my hands weren’t listening to my brain either.
She gasped, but then her eyelids fluttered closed and her leg relaxed, opening even wider. I could now see her black, lace underwear, and I had the sudden urge to pull it down her legs.
“Did you get it all?” she asked.
I kept staring between her legs, memories of Ellie and me by the river, in her bedroom, on my bed, my hands gliding her underwear from her hips.
My fingers clenched.
“Connor.”
“Yeah? What?” I tried desperately to hold onto to that vision of Ellie but I couldn’t, and my eyes snapped to meet Lilah’s.
“Did you find what you were looking for?”
Releasing her leg, I rubbed the palms of my hands over my eyes. “Yeah, I think so.”
The crunch of her seat sounded, and I felt her hand on my shoulder and the weight of her body climb onto my lap, her thighs straddling mine. “What are you do—”
“Shh,” she whispered.
Full, perky tits brushed my face, and once again memories of Ellie sitting on top of me and removing her bra were all I could see.
“Lilah, get off. We can’t. I can’t.”
“Yes, we can.”
“No.” I gripped her hips and tried to lift her. “I’m with Ellie.”
She grabbed my ponytail and pulled my hair taut, tilting my head, her eyes dark, dangerous, and swirling with lust. “You sure about that?”
My mouth opened to say yes, but the word wouldn’t come out. It was unspoken. And after what had transpired throughout the evening, I honestly wasn’t sure if Ellie and I were together or not.
“Well?” Her hands trailed down my jaw and began opening the buttons of my shirt, her cold fingertips riding the bumps of my abdomen.
“I … I don’t know.”
“You should know if you’re together, Connor. That fact that you don’t, says a whole lot.” One of her hands cupped my dick and squeezed gently while the other fumbled with my belt buckle.
I closed my eyes and willed the visions of Ellie back to me, willed for her hand to be touching the parts of me only she’d touched. “Lilah, stop.” My voice was strained. “We shouldn’t.”
“We should.”
Soft lips grazed mine, and her hand slid beneath my waistband.
“Ellie,” I moaned. “I love Ellie. I always have and I always will.”
“I know,” she murmured. “It’s okay. I’ll be your Ellie tonight.”
Red curls, green eyes, and the sexiest smile was all I could see, so I just switched off and forgot it all: the past five months, the past five hours … the next five minutes.
Chapter Nineteen
Ellie
“Formals are shit, Elliephant. I’m surprised more people don’t get drunk.”
“What?” I stared wide-eyed at the back of my brother’s head, watching as he filled his face with popcorn while shouting at the TV for some football player to ‘kick it long’. “You’re not helping, Chris.”
I placed my book down on the couch beside me. There was no point in trying to read. Between Chris shouting every two seconds and my mind constantly reverting to Connor and the night before, the words just weren’t sinking in.
“What do you want me to say? Connor got a little drunk after completing his final year of school. So what? He’s not the first person to do it and he won’t be the last either. Cut the guy some slack.”
I blinked. “He could’ve been expelled from school if Dad caught him.”
“But Dad didn’t catch him.”
“And he was going to drive his car. Drunk. How irresponsible and completely stupid is that? He could’ve killed someone, or even himself. Argh,” I growled.
“You’re not his mother, so stop acting like it.”
“I’m not acting like it.”
“Yeah, you are. You do it all the time: Connor do this, Connor don’t do that. Connor pick up the basketball—”
“Are you kidding me right now?”
“Nope.”
Shocked, I continued to stare at the back of his head, waiting for him to turn around and explain his shitty verbiage. But he didn’t. He just continued to shovel popcorn into his gob.
“Chris!”
“KICK IT TO HIRD! HE’S OPEN. FUUUCK,” he hollered, throwing his hands in the air.
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Having a conversation with my brother when the football was on TV was about as feasible as ice-skating in high heels. Football was in his blood. He lived and breathed it. Always had, always would.
Standing up, I headed to the kitchen to tidy up before Mum and Dad returned home from the local produce market. “YOU NEED TO TAKE OUT THE TRASH,” I shouted.
“Yeah, yeah, in a minute. The game is nearly over.”
I grumbled and decided to do it myself, needing something mundane to distract me from worrying about how Connor got home after I threw his keys in the bushes. Guilt had festered in the back of my mind ever since because he wouldn’t have been able to find them—he could barely stand straight.
Pushing it aside, I opened the backdoor, trudged to the bin, and lifted the lid when the sound of a car door slammed next door followed by my skank of a neighbour yelling. It piqued my curiosity, so I quietly dropped the trash bag and snuck to the fence to eavesdrop.
“I’m not just a rock you can kick to the curb,” she shouted, her voice breaking on a sob.
“Lilah, please lower your voice.”
A chill ran down my spine and froze my legs in place. Connor.
“Lower my voice?” She did the opposite. “WHY? SO THE NEIGHBOURS WON’T H
EAR?”
“Please just get back into the car. We’ll go somewhere and talk this out.”
The desperation lacing his words churned my stomach, the tips of my fingers tingling as they trembled. He’d never sounded so panicked.
“Ha!” She laughed, but it was far from pleasant. “Now you want to talk?”
“Yes. I don’t want … I didn’t mean … Fuck! Lilah, please.”
Willing my legs to move, I stepped out from behind the fence to see them both standing on her front path. Connor’s hand was clasped around her arm, his shirt untucked, his grey eyes red, hair dishevelled. Lilah’s dress strap had fallen down her shoulder, her hair equally dishevelled, her lipstick smeared, heels dangling from her hand.
She flicked her eyes to where I was standing, and they flared with something so volatile and sharp, that it sliced through me. “Perhaps we should’ve talked last night, instead.”
Nausea hit me like a truck, and I stumbled backwards, my throat thick, my body hot.
Connor’s eyes found mine, his face ghostly pale. “ELLIE! Shit!”
I turned around, dizzy with movement, words, and visions, and scrambled back to the house.
“WAIT! ELLIE! IT’S NOT—”
Ignoring his pleas, I opened the backdoor and ran for my room only to be chased down seconds later when he closed the door behind him. We stood there in silence, his presence behind my back unmistakable and all-consuming. I didn’t move and neither did he, two statues in a space surrounded by photos of the two of us happy in each other’s arms.
Reaching out, I picked one of them up from my desk and ran my finger over his smiling face before turning to face him. “Connor, wh … what did you do?” My tear-soaked eyes met his, and he dropped to his knees without so much as a word.
I waited. Silence. His favourite form of communication.
“Talk to me, damn it!” I shoved the photo frame at his chest. “Use your words for once. That’s what they’re for. They’re supposed to come out of your mouth and mean something.”
Tears welled in his eyes and streamed down his face, but he still didn’t say anything.
“TALK TO ME! TELL ME IT’S NOT TRUE!”
He hung his head, eyes pressed shut.
“Noooooo,” I cried. “NO!” I grabbed another photo and threw it over his head at the wall. “You fucking coward,” I sobbed. “Open your mouth and tell me what you did.” My chest drew tight, painful, but he still didn’t speak.
I smashed another photo. “You don’t get to do that this time.” Smash. “You don’t get to hide or leave.” Smash. “You don’t get to tune out and pretend this isn’t happening.”
Connor snapped his head up, and the pain radiating from his eyes carved my heart into tiny pieces. There, written all over his face, was the truth. He’d had sex with Lilah, and I didn’t need his words of confirmation because betrayal couldn’t hide behind silence. It was a ghost that haunted in full view.
“Why?” I sobbed, cupping my face with my hands. “Why would you do that?”
“I … I don’t know. I was drunk. I—”
A sardonic laugh slipped through my teeth. “That’s what you choose to say? You finally speak to me and that’s what you say, that you were drunk?” My arms fell to my sides, all fight and fury, gone.
“But I was, Ellie. You were there, you saw me, and then you left. AGAIN. We’d had that fight, and I hated it. I hated it all, and the next thing I know Lilah was there but she was you. And you were kissing me, and I was kissing you back, but I wasn’t. And I—”
“Get out,” I choked.
“Ellie, it didn’t mean anything. I swear—”
“GET OUT!”
My body trembled violently as I pointed to the door.
It flung open, and Chris burst into my room, his eyes wide and frantic. “Elliephant?”
Connor got to his feet and took a step toward me. “Ellie, pleeease,” he begged. “I love y—”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I hissed, stepping back.
Chris moved closer, but Connor didn’t budge.
“GET. OUT. NOW!”
He dipped his head and, once again, just … left. Walked out. Like I’d asked. Because that’s what he always did. He gave up.
And this time I was giving up too.
We were done.
Chapter Twenty
Ellie
“Eloise, open the door. Enough is enough. It’s been two days. Let me in.”
I rolled over in bed and glared at the hardwood panel that was my bedroom door. “Why won’t you all just leave me alone?”
“Open this door right now, young lady, or I’ll break it down.”
“Break it down. I don’t care.”
Mum was bluffing; she wasn’t a break-the-door-down kind of person. She’d be better off saying she’d cut the water supply to my bathroom instead.
Closing my eyes once again, I let darkness swallow my reality. Nothing was real when the world faded to black and dreams paved a path of pretend. It’s where I wanted to be, indefinitely.
A loud thud against my door jolted me awake, and I startled, twisting in my sheets as I scrambled to sit. A second thud followed, just as loud, and I soon realised it was Mum, no fluff in her bluff.
“What are you doing?” I called out.
“Breaking your door down.”
Another thud and, this time, the door’s hinges, the few photo frames I had left, and the windowpane all rattled.
“Ouch!”
“What are you breaking it down with, your head?”
“If I have to.”
“Mum, stop being stupid.” I brought my knees to my chest and hugged them.
“Well, it takes one to know one,” she said, her voice strained right before another thud. Oh my God, she’s gone nuts.
“You’re so annoying.”
“And you’re so gonna get up, get showered, get dressed, and get fed … as soon as I get … this … door… open.”
Grumbling, I climbed out of bed, my legs stiff and sore, the air surrounding me stale and unpleasant. It all hit me at once, and I braced myself against the door, opening it to find Mum rearing back in preparation for another attack. “There, it’s open,” I said, turning around and climbing back onto my bed.
“Oh no you don’t.” She secured me under the arms and lifted me to my feet. “Into that shower, now.”
“Mum, pleeease,” I said, choking back tears. “Just let me drown in the biggest sorrow my heart will ever know.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” She smoothed her hands over my hair. “You can’t possibly know that this will be the biggest sorrow your heart will ever know.”
“Yes, I can.”
“No, you can’t.”
“What would you know? You don’t even know what my sorrow is!”
“I do know, and so does Chris, Dad, Raelene, and Curtis. We’re all feeling it with you.”
I shook her hands loose and scoffed. “You couldn’t possibly feel what I’m feeling right now.”
She put her hands back on my hair and smoothed them down the sides of my face, her eyes travelling over me like only a mother’s eyes could. “Maybe not. But I can tell you that what you’re feeling will be one of the biggest sorrows your heart will ever know, and so you have to draw strength from it for what’s to come.”
A sob broke through my chest. “But how? How do I find strength in something that breaks every single piece of me?”
“You find it in those pieces as you put them back together again, one by one, that’s how. Starting with showering, eating, and seeing the light of day.”
The shower did sound promising, the eating not so much. As for the light of day, I would take each step as it came. There wasn’t much more I could do than that.
“Okay. I’ll have a stupid shower then.”
She smiled. “Good. And after that, you can meet me in the kitchen for some stupid pizza.”
I nodded. I never could say no to pizza.
I
turned eighteen during the weeks that passed, the only birthday I’d ever had without colour. My theme was black and grey, no white. And I’d celebrated by ignoring my university placement letter, which was attached to the refrigerator and remained unopened much to Mum and Dad’s displeasure. I’d also ignored the notes Connor had left in our letterbox:
I don’t want to miss a second of your time.
and
I will wait here for all of this life.
Until there was one I couldn’t help but reply to.
You’re my ever after.
I’d written:
Oh yeah? For how long?
He didn’t leave me any more notes after that.
Ever after was supposed to be definitive but, clearly, ours had an expiry date, and that was why I decided to no longer put off the inevitable and just open my placement letter. The next step of my life would go on with or without him, and I needed to take that step whether I wanted to or not.
“Just tear it open, sweetie.” Mum hovered over my shoulder, her presence adding to the weight already balancing there. “Like a birthday present.” She made a tearing sound right beside my ear.
I used my hand as a shield. “Okay okay.”
“Give her some space, Beth,” Dad said. He was standing by the window, shirtsleeves rolled up over crossed arms, his anxiety no less palpable.
Blocking them both out, I slid my finger under the paper of the envelope and tore it open, pulling the letter out and unfolding it to read what I already expected.
“Northern College of the Arts,” I announced, excitement and dread washing over me all at once.
It was a strange sensation, like having a fear of heights and yet cliff-diving into a beautiful, cool pool on a scorching hot day. You know the reward. You just have to take a leap to experience it.
“Which one is that?” Mum asked, her eyes searching Dad’s and then mine, mine and then Dad’s.
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