Chapter 9
nine
SIXTEEN YEARS AGO
Lizzy’s harsh words echo in my head, each syllable another twist of the knife she shoved into my gut. I deserve her wrath. I know I do. Still doesn’t make it hurt any less, though.
“You know what would be for the best? If you would just leave me the fuck alone.”
A sharp contrast to the gentle way she was speaking to her pet, murmuring quietly as she poked around in its glass house as she fed it.
For a split second, I caught a glimpse of the girl I used to know.
The same girl who collected bugs in jars and knew the name of every frog species in the pond behind her house.
Then, when she turned around and saw me, all that softness vanished, replaced by a wall of ice so thick I doubt even a blowtorch could melt that fucker away.
Rising from the bed, I cross over to the window and look out at the backyard. The massive oak tree still stands sentinel in the corner, its branches swaying gently in the evening breeze. And nestled among those branches, barely visible in the fading light, is the treehouse.
Our treehouse.
My throat tightens as memories come flooding back. Endless summer days spent hidden away in our sanctuary, just the two of us. Of comic books and whispered dreams of the future. Of one particular day when everything changed between us.
At twelve years old, I was awkward, gangly and had had a crush on my best friend ever since I could remember.
A crush I couldn’t shake no matter how hard I’d tried.
I remember the way the sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting speckled shadows across her face as she read.
How my heart hammered against my ribs when I finally worked up the courage to ask if I could kiss her.
The surprise in her eyes, followed by a whispered yes and a shy nod. The soft press of her lips against mine—gentle and innocent—was over much too soon.
I close my eyes, letting the memory wash over me only for a moment longer before pushing it away. I can’t afford to think about it right now. Not when we’re going to be living under the same roof for the rest of the school year.
The fact that Logan made me promise to ease into interacting with Lizzy because she’s been through enough causes shame to flood my veins. If he’d known what I’d said to her only minutes before he came to talk to me? Dead meat would have nothing on me.
I know the last thing she needs is me messing with her head. But just the thought of not interacting with her the way I want to makes me feel like my heart is being ripped from my chest.
And seeing her again, knowing she’s just down the hall? I’m not sure I can keep that promise. There’s something about Lizzy Cade that’s always drawn me to her. So much so that, when I was gone, it felt like a piece of my soul was missing.
It was unavoidable having to leave without saying goodbye. Even at twelve years old, I understood it would mean less heartbreak for me and for Lizzy to just cut ties all together. But there was something somewhere deep inside that prevented me from completely severing the connection.
Talking to Logan on the phone was the only way I knew how to keep her close. It would’ve hurt too much to talk to her, knowing the history we shared.
After a while I started lashing out. I was angry about losing my parents, about losing my best friends, and got caught up with the wrong crowd. Another form of avoidance was to turn my attention elsewhere—a lot of female ‘else where’s’.
Finally, my grandparents had had enough and put me in therapy. After a few sessions, my therapist recommended I find another outlet. So they put me in stage classes. And that’s where I found a new passion to focus on—acting.