Casualties

Prologue

PROLOGUE

I'll never forget the day my heart shattered into a million pieces. No one knew it was broken. I kept it all inside and buried it deep; the leftover fragments, molded into iron. He didn’t know the hurt he caused, but he didn’t know I was listening either. That day changed me, and knocked Ace Maddox off the pedestal I put him on so long ago.

Three months earlier...

"Have you decided on Stanford yet?" my mom asks while putting away some of my laundry. I reread an email that has flooded me with anxiety for the hundredth time this week.

"No, not yet. I don't know what to do." I sigh in frustration at the decision I'm contemplating.

"Sweetheart, I know you want to stay home to be with Cassie and the boys, but this is a really exciting opportunity for you. I would hate for you to pass it up for some summer fun." She moves to stand behind me, gently placing her hands on my shoulders in that soothing motherly way. I know she'll support whatever decision I make. Do I accept the invitation to Stanford's summer writing program? I should answer yes; she's right, this is an amazing opportunity. The knowledge I could gain from highly accomplished English professors, on top of the chance to experience leaving my home state by myself would entice anyone to accept such an offer.

"I know Mom, it should be an easy decision, but I've never been away from home by myself."

"You'll be fine, I'm only a phone call away. You've got this, sweetheart." She wraps her arms around me from behind, holding me in a strong hug.

"Thanks Mom, I love you."

"Back atcha, kid." One more squeeze then she leaves my room.

I look back at the email, daring me to make a decision. Stay or go? It's a simple question requiring a simple answer. One I need to make quick, the deadline is tomorrow.

I won't lie and say I'm not terrified to go to California by myself...because I am. But there's another big reason why I want to stay: Ace Maddox.

I have had a crush on Ace since I was ten years old. He moved in next door with his parents that summer. Watching the lanky boy with jet black hair and sun-kissed skin unload his bike was mesmerizing. His smile was contagious, with perfect teeth and full lips. But what really drew me in were his striking forest green eyes. He was beautiful.

I was outside playing with my older brother, Morgan, when he walked up to us asking if he could play. It was a quick yes from my brother and I, and we were inseparable from that day on. Our parents became friends almost as fast as we did. That meant endless summer barbecues and family dinners. We spent holidays together as one happy blended family. Ace and Morgan are the same age, only a year older than me. While the three of us are friends, Ace and Morgan are best friends.

No one knows I have a crush on Ace. I play it cool, and only obsess over him from a distance. Tossing glances at him when no one is looking. There's no way anyone is aware the boy next door occupies my every thought and dream.

Growing up, Ace and Morgan were always popular. There was something that made the kids at school gravitate toward them. Ace was gorgeous in every way, and I guess all the girls felt the same about Morgan. But seriously…gross. No one wants to think about others finding their sibling hot. I've never been jealous of the attention they constantly receive; they made me feel a part of their clique, regardless of my non-existent social status. I have the boys and my best friend, Cassie Sinclair, who I truly care about, and I've never needed more.

That's a lie. I long for Ace to see me as more than a friend.

* * *

I turned eighteen last weekend, and I am about to graduate high school. If I accept Stanford's invitation, I will spend my last summer before college in California, away from my friends and family. Away from Ace. The boys attend Boise State University, about two hours from our hometown. They're coming home today for the summer after finishing their finals early. This year has been the longest we have been apart, only seeing them for holidays. If it wasn't for Cassie, I'm not sure I'd have survived without them.

I walk home from school, taking in the beautiful day. Clear blue skies and green trees surround me on my mile-long trek home. We're slowly inching into June, and the smell of summer approaching floods my body with butterflies. I love our town in the summer. The long days are filled with lake trips, pool days, and the occasional camping trip. Most of my happiest memories have been during the summertime.

I check my phone to see if I have a text from Ace or Morgan to tell me they are home now, but so far nothing. The anxiety over what decision I'll make for Stanford has me second-guessing a different decision that could blow up in my face: I've decided to tell Ace how I feel about him in the hopes he will feel the same.

I’m not a delusional high school girl. Ace and I have had moments that tell me maybe he sees me as more than a friend. Or maybe I am delusional, reaching for what I want to see. But what if I’m not, and he does feel something more for me? I need to know before I choose to leave for the entire summer. He might be the reason I decline the offer to go.

I’m just going to tell him, and if in the worst-case scenario he doesn’t feel the same way, I have high hopes we can pretend I never admitted to anything.

If the boys aren’t home yet, they will be any time. Boise State has an amazing IT program that both of them were accepted to, to enhance their already amazing skills with computers. It started with video games, then hacking skills to download codes for games, to creating games themselves. Joining the IT program just made sense for them.

I received acceptance letters from every college I applied to. My parents were a little put off that I passed on Stanford and Brown. My teachers were surprised as well, but I want to attend college with Cassie, Ace, and Morgan.

I walk up our long circular driveway and notice it’s vacant of anyone’s cars. I’m going to miss living here. This is my childhood home.

It's a beautiful two-story Victorian home. The wraparound porch has white Adirondack chairs with matching tables in between. On each side of the steps up to the porch are planter beds with mine and my mom’s favorite flowers. A mixture of soft baby blue hydrangeas and light pink peonies give the front of our home a feminine touch.

I’m going to miss you, house.

Breezing through the front door, I drop my backpack, untie my dirty worn laces, and slide off my Chucks. My parents won’t be home for the rest of the week. They tried to get out of their business trip to be here when the guys got here, but couldn’t.

I pull my phone out again to text Morgan for their ETA.

Me

Hey! When will you guys be here?

Momo

We were home earlier, but I had to run a couple errands. Ace isn’t there?

Me

Oh, I’m not sure. I just walked in. But I don’t see him.

Momo

Wait! Why are you home already? Don’t you have school for another three hours?

Me

Chill Momo! It’s senior year…Half days. Duh!

Momo

FOR THE LAST TIME STOP CALLING ME MOMO! I can’t have women I’m talking to at school hear that nickname…not great for the reputation Mini Copeland.

Me

I’ll stop calling you Momo when you stop calling me Mini Copeland!

Momo

Fine! But for the love of God, don’t let anyone hear you say it when you get to BSU.

Me

Yeah yeah…

Mom said it started when I was learning how to talk and couldn't say Morgan, so he became Momo. I don’t mind calling him Morgan, but getting a rise out of him makes my day.

There’s no sign of Ace, so maybe he went home for a bit. I know they wanted to get takeout for the four of us to have a movie night in, so I know I'll see him later.

The stairs creak as I climb two at a time, and I hear noises coming from Morgan’s room. Ace must be here after all.

I’m not surprised. Mrs. Maddox hosts a weekly book club today at this time. We never want to be there when she hosts book club. It’s a room full of middle-aged women talking about how big the male character’s cucumber is.

The three of us learned our lesson the hard way when we walked in on what we thought would be innocent women discussing profound literature. Innocent women, my ass. They were measuring vegetables to get a visual of the character's size. The cucumber won, hence, the nickname. It gave all three of us the ick. We vowed to never risk walking in on book club again.

The sounds from Morgan's room are getting louder. What is he doing in there? Working out? If he is, I am interrupting. If I don’t, I’m not sure when I'll get another chance to be alone with him.

You can do this. Nothing will change if he doesn’t feel that way about you. Just put yourself out there.

The racing beat of my heart sends my nerves into overdrive. My hand reaches for the doorknob and I start to turn it, then pause. A female giggle punctures my ears.

He isn’t alone.

Like a creep, I gently press my ear to the door to hear who it is and what they’re doing in there. The high pitched giggle was a gut-punch, but this is much worse: They are not only talking, but making out, too. The gross lip-smacking sound reminds me of a drooling dog licking the peanut butter off a spoon. The noise filters out between muffled voices, accompanied by giggling.

My mouth pools with saliva from the wave of nausea rolling in my stomach. His rejection of my feelings for him, I could've handled. But I was definitely not prepared for this.

I shift my feet for a better listening position and wince at the creak the floorboard makes.

“Phew.” Relief washes over me, realizing they didn’t hear me. But then I hear Ace.

“Ashleyyy…” he groans out, his voice laced with a hint of frustration.

No fucking way. Ashley Jacobs? I can't stand this bitch and here she is in MY house!

We live in a small town, and there's only one Ashley that clung to Ace in high school. She must be back from college for the summer, too. I knew I would eventually run into her on breaks after she left for college, but not in my freaking house!

She was one of the most popular girls in the boys' grade, and she made it her mission to make my life hell. Ashley was everything I wasn’t. She dressed like a cover model, always wearing top-of-the-line brands. Her hair was always styled to perfection and her makeup was as amazing as any makeup influencer.

I sound jealous. I’m not jealous. Ashley Jacobs is just an awful human. She made it her mission to be cruel to me any chance she could. Tripping me in the hallway, laughing at me to her friends, knocking my books out of my hand—just a few examples.

I know Ace isn’t a virgin like I am, but I always chose to avoid thinking about his hookups to prevent feeling the way I do now.

The moaning finally stops—thank God!

Their voices drop to a murmur, and I press my ear closer, straining to catch their words. What I hear next shatters me.

There’s nothing more to say except… California, here I come.