Chapter 22
My lungs scream for air as I slow my pace from a run to a jog to a full-on stop, nearly keeling over.
Sweat trickles down my back, sending a chill up my spine, thanks to the cool air.
Glancing up at the sky, I take solace in the fact that the sun is hidden somewhere in the clouds, refusing to make an appearance today.
Good, because I don’t want to see it. It feels like there’s a cloud hanging over my head anyway, so it’s nice to see its gloomy friends up there.
I plop down on the grass and stretch my legs out in front of me, reaching for my toes.
“I think I’m dying,” Tessa pants as she rounds the corner of the house, sluggishly jogging toward the front yard, where I’m seated. As soon as she reaches me, she collapses onto her back, splaying her arms and legs out as if making a snow angel.
“Why did I agree to do this?” she says, still out of breath.
“Because it got you out of having to help can vegetables.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s right.” She nods. “Not sure I made the right choice, though.” Tessa lifts her head, looking around. “Where’s Molly?”
Before I can answer, she comes speed-walking toward us from around the dummy house, carrying three canteens. She’s dressed in different clothes from the ones she started the run in.
“Great, you two are back,” Molly calls out. “I went up and showered and got us some water,” she says, handing us each a canteen.
“I’m sorry, what? You had time to shower, dress, and get us water before we even finished?” Tessa cocks her head.
“Well, I was in cross-country back at school.” She takes a seat in the grass beside me. “So two miles is nothing for me. Takes about twelve minutes.”
“It’s sure as hell something for me, and by something, I mean absolute torture.” Tessa chugs from her canteen.
I unscrew the cap from my own and take a long drink.
“Hey, look—the guys are back,” Molly says, all giddy, pointing down at the road, where the truck is pulling up to the gate. JJ hops out and unlocks it, then pushes it open so the truck can pass through.
Tires crunch over gravel as it drives up and stops off to the side of us.
Blake shuts the engine off and steps out of the vehicle.
I groan internally at the sight of him. I was hoping he wouldn’t come back at all.
It was nice waking up late in my room alone, since he was already out on a scavenge run.
Blake starts toward us with his hands slipped in his pockets, trying to appear all casual.
I look away, pretending I don’t even notice his arrival, or care.
“Casey,” he says in a soft voice.
I busy myself by plucking a dead dandelion from the grass and twirling it between my fingers.
When I don’t acknowledge him, he continues. “I got you something.”
Ugh. Why can’t he just pretend I don’t exist? That’s what I’m trying to do with him. But no, he can’t let me be. Tessa’s brows knit together, signaling her confusion. I didn’t tell her what happened between me and Blake last night, because I want to forget about it, act as though it never happened.
He won’t leave until I respond, so I look up at him with narrowed eyes. “I didn’t ask you to get me anything.”
“I know,” he says with a small shrug. “It’s a gift.”
“I don’t want any gifts from you.” I tighten my eyes even more, making them become slits so I can barely see him and his stupid chiseled jaw.
Blake smiles and pulls a bag of Sour Patch Kids from his coat pocket. “But it’s your favorite candy.”
At first, I wonder how he knows that, but then a memory pops into my head, one I had forgotten or maybe chosen not to remember.
We had gone to the movies together to see a horror film, and at concessions, he asked me what my favorite candy was.
I told him Sour Patch Kids, so he selected those and a box of Reese’s Pieces for himself, his favorite.
“They’re kind of like you in a way,” I said.
“First you were sour. Now you’re sweet.”
He grinned momentarily before it tapered, his face turning serious. “I’m sorry about the sour part,” he said.
I smiled and waved it off. “Without the sour, the sweet wouldn’t be as satisfying.”
It sounded cute then. But now that I think about it, it’s really not. I gave him a pass for how he treated me, basically gaslighting myself. How naive of me. Then again, that’s what happens when you’re young, dumb, and in . . . fatuated with someone.
Blake shakes the bag in front of my face, pulling me from my thoughts. I glare up at him.
“They were my favorite. Back when I was seventeen, Blake. I can’t stand them now,” I say, jutting my chin.
“Can I have them?” Tessa asks.
“No.” I shoot a glare at her too.
“Really?” Blake raises a brow. “You hate them now?”
“That’s right,” I say with a firm nod. My mouth instantly betrays me, watering at the thought of one of those sour, sugary gummies touching my tongue. I swallow the excess saliva before it dribbles out from my lips.
He begrudgingly repockets the candy. “Fine. Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
“I won’t,” I say without missing a beat.
Blake’s mouth forms a hard line, and his shoulders slump as he turns and heads toward the house. I wish he’d head for the road instead.
“Greg!” Molly calls as he marches past us, carrying a cardboard box of items collected on the scavenge run. “Did you get me anything?” she practically sings with excitement.
Greg shoots her an annoyed glance and says, “No,” and then keeps on walking.
Molly tucks her chin in. Her eyes develop a sheen, but she takes a couple of quick deep breaths, making it instantly disappear. It’s not right what Greg’s doing to her, and I really can’t stand to watch her get hurt. She deserves to know, and the sooner the better.
“Greg doesn’t like you,” I say without thinking. The truth comes out like projectile vomit all at once, and I’m not sure whether I’m telling her this for her sake or for mine.
I wish someone would have told me the truth back when Blake was playing the same games with me. It would have saved me a lot of heartbreak and humiliation, so really, I’m doing what’s best for her in the long run.
Molly whips her head in my direction, eyes wide. “What?”
“Casey,” Tessa says through clenched teeth, almost like a warning, or in utter confusion as to why I’m telling Molly this.
“He doesn’t,” I say matter-of-factly. The truth is a Band-Aid that just needs to be ripped off.
“You were supposed to be a one-night stand. That’s it.
But the world ended, so here you are. If things were normal, Greg would have ghosted you, but he can’t because you’re both stuck living at my father’s compound.
” I gesture with my hands, sweeping them in front of me.
“He’s stringing you along because he can’t avoid you.
Plus, you’re his only option, and if he had another, it wouldn’t be you. ”
The moisture in Molly’s eyes resurfaces, but this time she’s not able to make it disappear. Tears spill over, streaming down her face.
“I know it’s hard to hear, but I can tell you from experience, it’s better to be alone than to be with the wrong person.” I fold my lips and nod, hoping she’ll understand where I’m coming from and will be grateful that I told her rather than angry at the messenger.
Molly starts to sob, and before I can try to console her, she’s on her feet, bolting toward the house.
“Casey, what the hell was that?” Tessa asks, staring at me with wild eyes.
“Molly deserves to know the truth, and the longer Greg strings her along for, the more she’ll get hurt in the end.” I pluck another dandelion from the grass and blow the pappi, sending them into the wind.
Tessa squints, studying my face. “Is there something going on with you?”
“No,” I say, tossing the stem aside.
“Come on.” She pats her hand against my leg. “It’s me. You can tell me anything.”
I sigh, debating whether I want to reveal what happened between Blake and me. I was hoping to just forget about it, but I can’t seem to.
“Blake kissed me last night.”
Her mouth parts with surprise and then clamps closed. “Well . . . that explains the sour mood.”
“I guess.” I shrug, picking at the grass.
“How the hell did that even happen, and when?” Tessa tilts her head.
“Last night, while I was patrolling. He decided to sneak out and scare me in the middle of my shift and then he just . . . kissed me.”
“Oh my God, that creep! And what did you do?”
I swallow hard, not wanting to tell her that I initially kissed him back and it got a little hot and heavy.
I still don’t know why I did. Maybe it was the adrenaline from being on my first night watch, and then him jumping out of the woods and scaring me amplified it even more. That must have been it.
“I slapped him,” I lie. Technically, it’s not a whole lie. I did slap Blake, but that was after I’d straddled his body and made out with him.
“Good.” Tessa laughs. “So, that’s what his little gift was about?”
“Yeah, he’s trying to get back on my good side so he can suck me back in, make me like him again, and then pull the rug out from underneath me just like he did back in high school.” I shake my head.
“Maybe,” Tessa says.
My brows shove together. “What do you mean, maybe?”
“I mean . . .” She pauses and glances around. “Maybe Blake is doing exactly what you’re saying, or maybe he’s changed.”
“Yeah, right,” I scoff. “Once an asshole, always an asshole.”
“But that happened, like, fourteen years ago, and you were both teenagers.”
I tighten my eyes, staring back at her. I don’t understand where this is coming from, but it feels like betrayal. Is she trying to play devil’s advocate or, better yet, Blake’s advocate? I may have been wrong about the apocalypse, but I’m not wrong about him.
“Whose side are you on, Tessa?” I purse my lips.
“Yours, Casey. I’m always on your side, but I’m just saying.”
“Well, don’t,” I warn.
Tessa puts her hand up, palm facing out. “Okay, okay, sorry.” She lowers it and fiddles with her fingernails.
“I’m going to shower,” I say, getting to my feet.
I can’t do this conversation. First my dad is defending Blake, and now Tessa.
Am I living in the Twilight Zone, or am I the only one who can see him for who he really is?
An asshole. And Tessa literally called him that the other day, so I don’t understand where she’s coming from.
“Are we good?” Tessa asks as I start to walk away.
I look back and nod. “Yeah, we’re good.” I don’t want to fight with her.
We are good, but I’m not. I really don’t know what I am.
Confused? Angry? Upset? All the above? Him kissing me last night brought up so many unresolved feelings, ones I thought I had dealt with.
But maybe I hadn’t. It seems they’ve been simmering under the surface, waiting to be stirred back up.
This world, or what’s left of it, is hard enough to live in as it is.
So I just need to forget about Blake and focus on surviving.
Inside the house, I kick off my shoes and have started to head upstairs when a loud crash in the house stops me in my tracks. I sprint to where the sound came from, the first-floor bathroom, and rap my knuckles against the door.
“Is everything all right in there?” I call out, unsure of who I’m even asking.
There’s no response. I knock several more times and then listen for movement, but there is none. I reach for the knob and turn it. Thankfully, it’s unlocked.
“It’s me, Casey. I’m coming in,” I say before pushing open the door.
My eyes go wide at the sight of her lying unconscious on the tile floor, a small amount of blood pooling around her head. I scream for help as I rush to her side.