by Vera Hollins
“Good luck with that.”
Mom was waiting up for me when I got home, and I already had an excuse at the ready to explain why I was getting back so late.
“It’s not what you think,” I started, but then I saw the papers on the coffee table in front of her, along with a glass of wine. She didn’t look drunk, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t on her way to it. “Why do you look like those papers are the contract you signed before you sold your soul to the devil?”
She sighed tiredly and rubbed the spot between her brows. “It’s not that dramatic.”
“Then what’s going on?”
“It’s done. Your father and I are divorced.”
My stomach somersaulted. I slumped down on the sofa across from her. “So, that’s it? It’s done?” I asked, as if she would answer differently and tell me this was all a practical joke and it was ending now.
“It’s done, Meli.”
I nodded, suddenly too empty. So, it was done. Finished. Finito.
I took the top paper and read the letters in the corner. State of Connecticut. Superior court . . . and then on the other side—dissolution of marriage.
I took a shuddering breath, refusing to read further.
It looked so final. So . . . irreparable.
I’d told her I’d try to accept their divorce but . . . but it was so damn hard.
It was hard when this was the final nail in the coffin of the family that we’d once been. Now it was all over. We were starting over, it seemed, and it wasn’t a fresh start or pretty.
My eyes blurred with tears, and I jumped to my feet, marching over to the balcony doors. “I guess congratulations are in order, right?” I asked, but instead of sounding cheerful as I’d intended, I sounded shaken. I took deep breaths just so I wouldn’t start crying.
I focused on the impeccable lawn that stretched around the house. It was currently illuminated by garden lights. Not even a single patch of it was out of place or in disorder. It was picture-perfect and ready for the top-selling home and lifestyle magazines to put it on their front covers.
I wished my life were as easy to maintain as that lawn.
“Meli, I’m sorry.”
She stopped behind me and placed her hands on my shoulders, giving me what was supposed to be a reassuring squeeze, but I couldn’t feel it. All I felt was loneliness. This day was getting better and better. First Masen, now this.
“I talked to Robert today.”
I sniffled. “Really? Did you sit together and have a celebratory drink? Did you talk about spending vacations together with your new partners? Did you—”
“Meli,” she said quietly, and I stopped. “We talked about how our divorce may have affected you and Steven.” Her voice cracked a little when she mentioned Steven’s name. Her fingers tightened on my shoulders.
“Well, it’s obvious. It affected us in all sorts of amazing ways.”
She sighed and moved next to me, giving me a long gaze before her eyes filled with tears. She looked away. “I asked him if he thought the divorce made Steven’s addiction worse.”
I snorted. “It certainly didn’t help him.”
She paled. “That may be true, but the alternative wouldn’t have helped him either.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. Robert and I feel the same way about that. There was a time when we tried to stay together for your and Steven’s sakes. We tried for so long, but it was only getting worse with our constant fighting. You and Steven had to witness it every day, and it wasn’t easy for you. It was destroying our family.”
I let out a long exhale as I returned my gaze to the lawn. I remembered those times too well. I remembered wishing I could come home and see them smiling at each other. I’d wished their fighting hadn’t been a constant soundtrack of our family. I’d wished their couples therapy had worked. I’d wished they would wake up one day and realize how stupid they had been, and then fall in love with each other all over again.
I rolled my eyes at myself. Life wasn’t a fairy tale. This was a gritty reality.
“As hard as it is for me to admit it, I know. I wanted you two to get over your differences, not stay together and fight all the time. I guess I’ve always clung to that hope that you would reconsider and start a normal relationship again, but I was trying to go through a wall. I know now you can’t force feelings.”
Just like I couldn’t make Sarah see Mateo in a different light. Just like I couldn’t keep on hating Masen.
“It’s true that the divorce played a part in Steven’s addiction,” I continued. “But as I told you, it was more complex than that. No one gave their all to help him. We just let him be more often than not. Maybe if we’d taken a different approach, he would’ve realized he needed help. He would’ve wanted help. Maybe.” I rubbed my face tiredly and looked at her. “So, what now? Do you have any plans? Maybe finding some guy twenty years younger and going to the Bahamas with him?”
She wiped at her tears, her lips curling into a small smile. “If only that was the solution to everything.” Her smile fell. “If only that could bring my son back.”
Her sorrowful whisper pierced me deeply.
She met my gaze and took my hand. “Now, I guess, we have to try and move on as best as we can. We will make this work. I promise,” she said.
I looked at the starry sky. It was hard to believe that, but I had to, for both our sakes . . .
Nothing would bring Steven back. No tears, no wishes, no love. He was dead.
Instead, we had to pick up the pieces and, yes, move on.
I truly hoped I would be able to.
Even though it felt like I never would.
“It’s official. My parents are divorced,” I said to Jess and Sar, who were seated across from me at our table on the school patio. “I’m expecting them to throw a celebration party any moment now!”
Jess frowned, sharing a concerned gaze with Sar. “I’m sorry, Mel. In the end, they really couldn’t settle their differences?”
“Nope.”
Sar leaned her elbows against the table, observing me closely. “How do you feel about it?”
I looked away and scratched my neck. “I wish they’d had a moment of epiphany and decided they couldn’t live without each other and their love was the most epic of them all, but I guess this is for the best. I can’t pressure them to be together. I gotta be all supportive, like the true cheerleader I’m not. So, if they can’t be with each other anymore and want to go their separate ways, I won’t rain on their parade.” I shrugged, chipping away at my nail polish.
Jess placed her hand on my shoulder. “I know this must be hard for you, even more so with Steven gone, so don’t push yourself. It’s okay not to be okay.”
“Jess is right,” Sar said. “You’ve been through a lot, so don’t be too hard on yourself.”
I met their gazes. I wanted to tell them I was more than fine, but there was something in their eyes that told me to just drop the pretense and be honest for once, because they wouldn’t think any less of me.
I sighed. “I know, but they also have it hard, and I don’t want to make things harder for them.”
Jess offered me a soft smile. “That’s true, but it’s a lot to take in, and I’m sure they would understand. We all do.”
“Thanks. I’ll remember that if I ever decide on crying waterfalls.”
She shook her head with a quiet giggle, then studied my face. Or more precisely, the bags under my eyes.
I squared my shoulders. “What?”
“Are you still popping those Red Bulls?”
I nodded energetically. “Yep, Red Bull and I are in a committed relationship.”
Her lips smiled, but her eyes glimmered with concern. “I see you’re still having trouble sleeping.”
I shifted in my seat. “Geez, you, too?” First Masen, now her.
“Me, too?”
“Nothing. I’m fine, so don’t worry. My dearest Red Bull is making
sure all my needs are fulfilled.”
“You’re our friend, so of course we have to worry about you,” Sar said.
I held her gaze, wondering what it would be like if I told them how I truly felt. I’d been hiding so much from her and Jess, refusing to show weakness, but I felt deep inside how unfair I was being. They deserved the truth, not the masks I always wore.
For a moment, I imagined telling them everything. My stomach churned with unease, and I had to force the bite I took down my throat. Maybe not now . . . but soon.
I smiled at them, but unlike many times before, this smile was real. “I know. And I appreciate it. I really do.” I averted my gaze to my sandwich. “Like, I want to, you know . . . talk. But I’m not ready yet.”
“We know,” Sar said. “We know you aren’t ready, but whenever you are, we’re here.”
I poked my sandwich, pouting at it. “Thank you for not giving up on my stubborn ass.”
“Of course we’re not going to give up on you, silly. Why would you even say that?” Jess asked, but before she could add anything else, Kevin and Marcus joined us, carrying their trays of food, soon followed by Hayden and Blake, and I straightened up.
I glanced around and almost sighed in relief, because Masen wasn’t with them. After last night, it seemed as though everything reminded me of him, and I kept expecting him to pop up wherever I went. I almost had a heart attack with each false alarm. I hadn’t expected him to show up to school after last night’s beating, but I’d heard people whisper about the bruises on his face, so I knew he’d come. By lunch, everyone had their own theory on what had happened to him, and each was crazier than the last.
I grinned at Hayden and Blake. “Our dearest bad boys! I was wondering when you’d show up.”
Blake smirked as he sat down next to Jess. He slid his arm around her waist. “What you should be wondering is when your crush will show up.”
I turned rigid. The hell? “What do you mean by that?”
Blake hooded his eyes. “Rumor has it that you and Mace have gotten really cozy lately.”
I gritted my teeth together. I knew it. I knew that sleazy alligator would tell them everything, with their Bro Code and all. His mouth was bigger than Antarctica.
“Is it true?” Blake asked when I remained silent.
I sneered at him. “Why don’t you ask your friend if you want to know anything? I’m sure he’d provide you with all the details.”
“That’s the thing. He won’t say anything.”
Wait, what? He wasn’t the one who’d told them?
“He’s unusually quiet about it,” Hayden said, his pensive gaze wandering off into the distance. “Usually, he likes to brag, but this time”—he met my gaze—“he’s keeping us in the dark. I wonder why.”
He didn’t look as if he wondered about anything. He looked as though he’d figured it all out.
“I wouldn’t know,” I replied, folding my arms over my chest.
Hayden didn’t blink. “So, you don’t deny it.”
I glared at him. “That’s because there’s nothing to deny. Whoever your source of rumors is has a terrible imagination and should check themselves into a mental institution.” Marcus and Kevin chuckled.
“I’m not so sure about that,” Blake said lazily. “He’s not messing around with any girls anymore.” He looked at Hayden, as if he needed confirmation. “Isn’t that right, Hayds?”
Hayden nodded. “It’s almost as if he’s a completely different person.”
I looked at my half-eaten sandwich, gnashing my teeth. Now I didn’t have any appetite anymore, thanks to these two gorillas.
I smiled sweetly at them. “Good. That means the chances of him catching an STD are now lower by a fraction of a percent. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to my class.”
I’m off to my class, which I share with Masen. Splendidly wonderful.
“Say hi to Mace for us,” Blake piped up, sniggering.
I cast a murderous scowl at him. “Do us all a favor and glue your lips together.”
I saluted everyone and headed inside, catching Blake as he said, “There’s definitely something going on between them.”
I groaned. Wonderful. Now they thought Masen and I were together. I wrapped up the sandwich, saving it for later because I hated wasting food, and headed for my locker. After retrieving my books, I went to class, irritated by the feeling dancing in my chest because I was about to see Masen.
I tried damn hard to forget about his kisses, but last night had branded itself into my mind, and I kept imagining what would’ve happened if I hadn’t panicked.
If only I could crush this feeling and forget about him. If only.
Think about herpes. Not his kisses. Herpes and dying flies.
My feet stopped at the threshold of our classroom. Masen was already inside, but he wasn’t sitting at the desk in front of mine. No, he was sitting at the desk next to mine.
My first thought was: he wanted to be next to me.
My second thought was: how the hell had he managed that?
The girl sitting in his seat provided the answer. Of course. I didn’t doubt he’d used his charms to get her seat, even with those awful bruises on his face. The girls in this school obviously followed him blindly like he was a god.
Our gazes met, and I saw us in his room again. His hot mouth gliding down my skin. His hands setting my body on fire. His eyes devouring me . . .
Forget about other girls. I, myself, was in way over my head.
It was as if he knew exactly what I was thinking about, because that piece of horse manure smirked at me. He smirked!
I flexed my hand into a fist and made my way to my desk. I sent him a deadly glare as I sat down. “Don’t make me use my beloved fist on you. I’ll wipe that smirk right off your face.”
His smirk only got bigger. “You mean you’ll use your mouth? Yes, you can use your mouth on me whenever you want.”
I turned to gape at him. The tiny voice of distrust in my head said he’d gone back to his old self now that he’d managed to get me—well, almost, but still—and all he’d shown before was an act.
“Say that again, and you’ll need a bedpan to pee in once I’m done with you.”
He whistled. “Easy, Satan. I’ve been roughed up more than enough lately. And I know you want me badly, so there’s no need to act so aggressive.”
I bristled. “I can’t believe you! Do you really have to be that disgusting?”
“I’m just like you, Satan.” His face turned serious, and he added quietly, “Both of us put on masks and pretend. So, I’ll stop when you stop.”
My breath stuck in my throat. I began bouncing my leg. “I’m not pretending.”
“Yes, you are. You act like you don’t want me? I’ll act like the worst womanizer you’ve ever met.”
I bounced my leg faster. “Fine,” I said through my teeth. “Maybe I do want you, but that doesn’t mean anything.”
“Keep lying to yourself all you want, but it still won’t make it any truer.”
The teacher entered the classroom, so I couldn’t respond to him. This only added to my anxiety. I wasn’t going to let him have the last word. I took out my phone and did the unimaginable—I unblocked his number and sent him a text.
“It doesn’t mean anything, because I won’t ever sleep with you.”
I saw him reach for his phone out of the corner of my eye. The teacher was looking in our direction, so he waited for her to start her lesson before he replied.
“That’s what they all say, but that’s okay. I like games.”
My eyes bulged out, my blood pressure reaching an all-time high. I was torn between flinging my phone at him and sending him the nastiest text that ever existed on this planet.
“THIS IS NOT A GAME. I WON’T EVER SLEEP WITH YOU. N-E-V-E-R.”
He had the audacity to snort.
“Keep using caps lock. It will be so much more fun once I finally sleep with you.”
My hand holding the phone shook. If only I could torture him in all imaginable ways. Unlike me, he was completely relaxed, slouched against his chair like he had no worries in this world.
“YOU INSOLENT ASSHOLE. I HATE YOU.”
“I understood it the first time you said it. No need to say it again.”
This insufferable—
You know what? Fuck this. I threw my phone on my desk and crossed my arms over my chest.
The teacher stopped in the middle of her sentence. She frowned at me. “Miss Brooks? Is that how students should act in class?”
I straightened my back and pressed my hand against my chest, smiling my best good-student smile. “Absolutely not, Ms. Davis. I deeply apologize.” I was a second away from making a mocking bow.
She narrowed her eyes at me, as though she was checking if I was poking fun at her or not. “You’d better not do it again.”
I nodded solemnly. “Yes, of course.” I almost added “ma’am.”
She unglued her scowl from me and returned to her lecture. My screen lit with a new message. I contemplated deleting it without reading it, but I was too damn curious to do that. I opened his text.
“Just tell me one thing. If I were different, like the sweetest guy you’ve ever met, would you give me a chance?”
I stared at the message for a long time, my heart thumping in my chest. I could feel him watching me.
I pursed my lips together and typed my reply.
“Why does it matter since all you want is sex?”
He replied just seconds later.
“Let’s pretend for a moment I want something more than sex.”
My chest tingled. I stared at the message until the words blurred and I didn’t know right from wrong. Things were gray all over.
Everything about Masen and my feelings defied logic. How could I be attracted to someone like him? Me, who didn’t want to be with or even trust guys. I’d been ready to spend my whole life single because the thought of being with someone made me nauseated and panicky. Dating had been an unimaginable concept because guys always stabbed you in the back sooner or later.
Masen was the most irritating and arrogant guy I’d ever met. He was the main reason why my blood pressure shot up every single day. I was sure I would die young of stress because of him.