by Tijan
My parents weren’t evil. They didn’t mean to forget about me because they didn’t love me, but I fully believed they didn’t want to see me.
They saw her when they saw me.
So, I stayed away. Hell, I didn’t even enjoy looking in the mirror myself.
My eyes were hers. My hair. My body. I’d lost weight, losing the healthy weight I held with those Cheetos. The more I dreamed about her, the more she talked to me, the more she haunted me—I was becoming Willow.
If I took her place, would they mourn Mackenzie? Maybe that would be easier for them.
“If they do the dinner, we can have everyone crash it.”
I laughed lightly, my body curving toward Ryan’s. “They’d love that, actually.”
“Your parents?”
“No, the guys.” The guys included me and Cora.
After the night of apologies a month or so ago, I’d gone to school the next day, and they’d all walked next to me like I was one of them. That was how it had become. I considered Tom, Nick, Kirk, and Cora friends as well.
A hand touched my cheek, and I started as Ryan brushed away one of my tears.
God. I brushed at it, and then the rest. My whole face was like a waterfall.
I groaned, turning and pressing my face into his pillow.
“Hey.” His voice was so soothing, so kind, it almost broke me again. He straightened some of my hair and then smoothed his hand down my back. He shifted, lying on his side. He continued rubbing my back, and his voice came from above my head. “You never actually talk about her, you know?”
I shook my head, rotating from side to side.
I couldn’t talk about her. I just couldn’t.
“What was your sister like?”
He cared and thought he was doing the right thing. At least, that was what I told myself.
It so wasn’t the right thing though.
I turned, not caring about anything except avoiding talking about her, and grabbed him. I pulled him down on top of me, finding his mouth with mine.
I was desperate for it.
I was desperate for hi—no. I had to be honest, at least with myself. I was using him. There. I admitted it. I did care for Ryan, and maybe there were real emotions underneath all the craziness inside me, but I wasn’t in touch with them right at the moment.
He could chase her away; he was the only thing that worked.
“Ryan,” I breathed, opening my mouth under his, coaxing.
“Mac?”
God.
I normally loved hearing her nickname from him, but not tonight.
I sat up, still kissing him, and feeling something rising in me—something reckless, something wild, something intoxicating—I took my shirt off. I didn’t sleep with a bra on, so as soon as my shirt was off, his hand was on my breast.
Yes.
That helped.
She was fading. I could feel her go.
“Are you—”
I shook my head, my mouth finding his again. I didn’t care if I was coming across frenzied and desperate. It was how I felt, but the throbbing for him had started too. I . . . I stopped thinking. That was the only way she’d completely leave, and tonight, I didn’t care how far we had to go for that to happen.
I wanted him, and that ache grew more and more fervent.
I gasped.
“Shit, Mackenzie,” he growled, pushing me back down and looming over me. He was panting, but he fitted himself between my legs.
I could feel him through his boxer briefs, through my pajama shorts. I reached down, grabbed his hips, and jerked him close.
Right there.
I felt him where I needed him, and I began grinding against him. He moved with me, his hands growing more sure, more demanding, more rough. My frenzied need stirred the same emotion in him, and he was crushing me, getting as close as he could.
I could feel him press into me.
Move his briefs aside, my shorts aside, and we’d be one.
My mind had stopped working.
I no longer knew why he wasn’t in me already.
My mouth opened beneath his, and reaching down, I touched him.
He cursed, shoving against my hand. He broke his mouth from mine. “You sure?” he rasped next to my ear and then lifted to peer at me through the darkness.
I nodded.
I had a small window of sanity, but I was ready. We were going there anyway. Willow was making me crazy, but yes. I was sure.
“I’m on the pill.”
He reached up, brushed some of my hair away from my forehead. “You are?”
Another searing pain in my chest. “Willow had sex last year with Duke. We both went on the pill once our mom found out.”
Good old Wills. My mouth turned down, and his thumb fell to my lip, rubbing it out.
“I have condoms,” he whispered. “We’ll be safe.”
I nodded.
Take a goddamn breath, Mac. Fuck’s sakes. Think about this. This is major. S-E-X, the big sex here. He’s the guy you want?
I almost cried out, hearing her concern, and why the fuck was my mind working again? My mind wasn’t supposed to be on her, but I listened to her question and focused on him.
I focused on Ryan.
I was a virgin. Was he the guy? And suddenly, I felt Willow leaving again. She was fading and taking all the pain, all the anger with her until it was only me lying in his arms.
The answer bloomed in my chest, and I nodded.
I was ready. I did want this, and with no one else except him.
“Yes,” I almost whispered the word.
I wanted nothing more, and it wasn’t tainted by the pain of my sister. It was pure, rooted in the feelings I did have for Ryan.
“Please.”
His eyes darkened, and that was all he needed. He bent down, his mouth finding mine again.
Yes.
Chapter Nineteen
I had sex.
I did it. That particular first in my life was done, and I was happy about who it was with. Under the seven layers of my emotional shit, there were real feelings for Ryan. I mean, I knew myself. I wasn’t so damaged by WWD (what Willow did) that I was completely screwed up and would lose my virginity to some asshole.
Ryan was the right guy. I didn’t know what was in the future—I could barely function with the today—but there it was.
Done.
I was no longer a virgin, and I was supposed to be different. Right?
I was supposed to look different?
No?
Gazing at myself in the mirror after showering, and knowing Ryan was waiting in bed for some post-coital cuddles, I searched those two eyes where a soul is supposed to be.
I saw nothing. For real.
There was the usual iris, eyeball, and such. Eyelashes. The literal round hole, but that wasn’t me.
I winced and averted my eyes.
Fuck. I didn’t even want to look myself in the eyes. Me. I didn’t want to see what everyone else must be seeing.
There was nothing there. Emptiness. Dead. Dull.
I was gone.
There was nothing lively in there. No happiness, elation, a big fat nada.
I’d lost my virginity, and I was half-considering going in there and doing it again just so I could feel something.
Morbid much?
Oh, lovely. Time for my usual haunting.
Hey, Wills.
She leaned against the sink and crossed her arms. You know, Mac, if you’re actually crazy, you wouldn’t be thinking of me only when you can handle it. I’d be popping in all the time and really haunting you. I’d be telling you to kill someone or something. Isn’t that what voices do? Tell you to do bad shit?
I wouldn’t know. I’m not schizo. I’m mourning.
Willow snorted. You’re a head case, that’s for sure. And yeah, maybe you’re mourning, but honestly, aren’t you prolonging the inevitable?
I shut her out.
I felt what she was going
to say, and I stopped her, literally imagining her out of my head, out of the bathroom, out of the house, and far, far away. I could almost feel her flying backward.
Then I opened my eyes.
Still here, dumbass.
She hadn’t moved an inch.
Bitch.
She laughed. Finally. Some sass. You’re so fucking depressing. What happened to you? I mean, I know. She indicated herself, her hands moving up and down her body. But you know what I mean. You should’ve had your shit together a long time ago, but you’re sucking at it. Come on, Soccer Superstar.
I wasn’t the soccer superstar.
Yes, you were. You were the superstar in everything. You just didn’t know.
I was lazy, and I ate junk food, and I—
You were normal, but you were the best on your soccer team.
But—
You were normal, Mac. Her voice was so soft. And that was a good thing. You got to be the normal one of us, even if you really weren’t. You were what we needed. You were our anchor, still are.
“You’re the strong one, Kenz.” I heard Robbie’s voice, and I could see him all over again, looking at me from the doorway to Ryan’s room that day. I’d flipped the cover back and let my little brother hide in there with me.
If only we hadn’t ever left that shelter.
I expected a smart comment from Willow, but none came. Then I looked, and I almost gasped. Tears glistened in her eyes, and her hands were balled as if she were trying not to cry.
I’m so sorry, Mac.
What? A searing and burning sensation began to build in my chest. I started for her, my hand reaching out.
If I could take it back . . .
And poof. She was gone.
“No!”
She was right there. She was real. I could see her, speak to her, and she was gone.
Footsteps pounded on the floor behind me. The bathroom door flung open, and Ryan’s eyes were wild.
“Mackenzie? What?” He saw I was staring at nothing and turned in a circle, looking around the bathroom. “Mackenzie? What . . .”
The same words, but such a different meaning.
No. Nope. I wasn’t—I couldn’t say it aloud.
She wasn’t real.
She wasn’t there.
She was gone.
“She was supposed to be here for this.” The words wrung from me.
He turned around and sighed. “Oh, Mac.”
Tears rolled down my face. I felt them falling, but I couldn’t move, and I couldn’t stop them.
“Mackenzie.” He said it quietly, tenderly, and he pulled me into his arms. “I’m so sorry.”
He cradled the back of my head and held me.
Chapter Twenty
“I know what you and Ryan did last night.”
I jerked back, my hand hitting the locker and slamming it shut. I turned to face Peach, who seemed pissed. Her eyes were angry, her mouth a firm line. Her arms crossed over her chest.
She didn’t seem it. She was angry.
And she was tapping her foot.
I eyed that foot. Who tapped their foot like that? Seriously?
“Say that again.”
She couldn’t be talking about what I thought she was talking about because then . . . ew. How the hell would she know that?
Her arms uncrossed, and her hands formed fists, pressing into her legs. “You screamed last night. I was dreaming about taking a puppy to a fair. Ryan put it on me, but it was you. I know what you two are doing. He’s either sneaking over to your place or you’re at ours. It was you who screamed last night.”
Prove it.
I sooo wanted to say Willow’s words to her, but the truth was, Peach could. Easily.
Open the fucking bedroom door at three in the morning, and the proof is there. So I kept my mouth shut.
Ugh!
I ignored Willow. I was still mad at her for disappearing last night.
Fuck you.
I ignored that too.
“What do you want?” I asked Peach.
Fine. She wanted to play ball with me? Well, there were consequences. I was going to call her on it.
She frowned, her head lowering an inch as she moved back a step. “What do you mean?”
“What do you want? If I screamed, what are you going to do about it?”
“Nothing.” Her frown deepened.
“Then why’d you come over all heated like this?”
She shrugged, crossing her arms again. “I don’t know. I wanted you and Ryan to know that I know. And why’d you scream?”
It wasn’t something nightmare-worthy, at least not to others.
“I dreamed my sister and I were at Homecoming.”
“Oh.” She tilted her head. “That sounds kinda nice.”
I snorted. “I knew you’d think that.”
“It wasn’t?”
I gave her a dark look. “It was my sister. Me. Homecoming. I’ll never be able to go to another dance with her. You do the math.” I turned toward my locker again.
I left out the part where I was becoming Willow. The creep meter was off the charts there.
“I’m sorry, Mackenzie.”
Her quiet voice drew my eyes up to her again.
“I’m sorry your puppy dream got interrupted,” I offered.
A giggle left her and then another. She shook her head. “Sorry. Just . . .puppy dream. Sounds funny when you say that.”
I grunted. “I’d take a puppy dream over the weird shit in my head any day.”
She sobered. “Yeah. I’m sure you would.” A new softness emanated from her, and she murmured, “I’m really sorry about your sister.”
I couldn’t remember if she’d told me before, but the ring of sincerity told me she meant it this time.
Feeling choked up again, I nodded.
The warning bell rang.
I was standing in the hallway, getting all emotional with Ryan’s sister four minutes before the next class.
Fuck this.
“I’ll see you later,” I told her.
I didn’t wait for her response. Everyone else had started for their classes, and I merged with the stream to veer toward my classroom.
Ryan and I had sex.
Yes, I was on repeat, but I was giving myself a break. I had to process things while I was refusing to process something else, and that something enjoyed haunting me.
Aaand back to processing what I could: I was no longer a virgin.
It hurt at first, but then it felt good. Then it felt really good.
I was there for Willow after she had done the deed. I sat on her bed and listened to every detail.
I hadn’t been crying last night because I couldn’t share that experience with her. I cried because I wouldn’t have.
Willow was supposed to know. She would’ve cried, begged me for the 411, and I wouldn’t have said a thing because Ryan would’ve been important to me. Willow would’ve been jealous. She would’ve wanted him for herself, but I had him, and I got him because I crawled into his bed that night.
Willow was supposed to know . . .
Get over yourself. I’m so here, but you won’t admit it. Right, Mac? When did you start talking to yourself? Yes. Yes. You’re crazy. You’re so nuts, they’ll ship you to a hospital so you don’t do what I did. That’s your real worry, isn’t it?
“Enough!” I roared, and like that, I was staring at my classroom, and Willow was gone.
Every person in the room—including the teacher—was looking at me.
I was smack dab in front of the door as the last bell rang.
Mr. Breckley cleared his throat. “I quite agree. Enough. It’s time for some learning.” He ignored the light smattering of laughter and motioned to me. “Now, if you’ll close the door, Miss Malcolm, we’ll get to today’s lesson.”
My neck felt warm.
I kicked the doorstopper out and went to my seat, ignoring the questioning looks from Tom, Nick, and Cora.
; Chapter Twenty-One
“Hey.”
Ryan’s greeting shouldn’t have stood out with all the noise in the hallway, but it was as if I’d become attuned to his voice, his body, him. The rest of school, all of it melted into the background, and I turned, knowing he’d be standing there, watching me with the quiet concern maybe he shouldn’t have had. The tension eased from my body.
This was wrong.
I shouldn’t be depending on him this much, but I moved toward him. My body was already betraying me.
“Your sister knows.” I meant to say more, explain, but the need to get Willow from my mind made me forget.
I stepped toward him, and he mirrored me. It was as if we moved as one unit. My back went against the lockers, and he stood in front of me, his hand resting against the locker beside me. I couldn’t stop myself. I leaned into his hand and reached for the loop on his jeans. He reacted to my touch, sucking in his breath, and I saw him go rigid, but I didn’t pull him against me. I held on to that loop. It was an attachment to him.
“What?” His eyebrows went up.
“About me sneaking over,” I clarified. “That I screamed last night, not her.”
“Oh.” His shoulders slumped. “Not about the other thing, right?”
“No. Not that.”
“Fuck, Mac.” He gave me a crooked grin. “You gave me a slight heart attack.”
I smiled. “Yeah. Not that.”
“We didn’t talk after . . .well, after us and after your bathroom thing,” he said.
Right.
I glanced down, feeling all sorts of awkward again.
He’d held me until we had both fallen asleep. His first alarm woke me, and I told him I could hurry to my house alone. I’d started bringing clothes to his place and vice versa, but it was never the same as getting ready at your own house. I needed some space this morning, and when he’d picked me up an hour later, I’d been the Avoidance Girl.
Avoid the sex talk. Avoid the bathroom meltdown. Avoid. Avoid. Avoid.
I felt the walls closing in on me, and I knew I couldn’t keep avoiding forever, but I was going to do my best. Call me the Superstar of Avoidance. I’d wear that pin proudly, if I got around to it.
I shook my head, a small signal that I still didn’t want to talk about it, and my finger moved against his stomach.