Chapter 15
Chapter fifteen
Hudson
Iwalk up to the Hackford's front door, a drink tray with milkshakes from Melvin's in one shaky hand. My grip tightens on the cardboard, my skin buzzing.
Taking one last moment to check in with myself, I ring the doorbell. Ella opens it a moment later, her usual bubbly smile on her face.
“Hi!” she greets, pulling the milkshakes from my hand. “Ugh, I’ve been violently craving a milkshake.” She’s already stabbed a straw into hers and is taking long pulls on it, eyes rolling to the back of her head.
“That good, huh?”
She nods enthusiastically, waiting while I close the door behind me. “So… uh, you sure your parents aren’t going to pop back in anytime soon?”
I know I’m doing better mentally, but I don’t know if I could handle another round of spewed hatred from Mrs. Amy. She was like another mom, and it hurts that she sees me as nothing more than a common criminal.
“I promise, they’re gone.” It’s all she offers, so I have to believe that she’s telling me the truth.
She leads me into the living room, falling onto the couch and pulling her feet up under her. She pats the space beside her, slurping her milkshake.
I take a seat, trying to put a little distance between us, but Ella snuggles closer, throwing a fuzzy blanket over our laps.
Maybe one more normal afternoon won’t hurt.
She grabs the remote and scrolls through the movies on a streaming app, deciding on an old slasher movie.
This feels painfully familiar.
When we were kids, Ella always insisted she wanted to watch horror movies. Ten minutes later, she’d be hiding behind a pillow, peeking through her fingers while I laughed at her.
I’d throw an arm around her and she’d immediately scoot closer.
So that’s what I do now.
She smiles up at me before turning her attention to the screen, the movie opening with a shrill scream as the villain brings a knife down on a helpless victim.
My mind isn’t on the movie, though, lost in thought of what I’m going to say to Ella when the credits roll.
I suppose the right thing to do would have been to just tell her I need space right when I got here, but a part of me wants things to be like they used to be, before everything got so complicated in my life.
We stay mostly silent through the movie, me squirming more than Ella at certain points. She even called me a chicken when I had to turn my head during a particularly gruesome scene.
When I flip her off, she laughs so hard she nearly spits her milkshake across the room.
For a moment, it feels like nothing has changed.
A scream erupts from the television and I jump, earning a laugh from Ella.
“Looks like you’re not so tough anymore, huh?
“Bite me,” I mutter.
She nudges my shoulder and stands. “I’m getting another drink. Want one?”
“Sure.”
She smiles, then disappears into the kitchen.
I try to focus on the movie, but my attention keeps drifting to the clock on the mantle. Every passing minute knots my chest tighter.
I should just tell her.
The words are right there.
I open my mouth to silently rehearse what I want to say, but the words get tangled before they ever make it out. Instead, I stare at the television and let the movie fill the silence while my stomach churns.
A few minutes later, Ella returns with two cans of Coke.
“Your beverage, sir.”
I accept the can with a tight smile. “Thanks.”
She sits back onto the couch beside me, pulling the blanket over our laps again. “Anything for my favorite person.”
My stomach knots tighter as I take a sip of soda.
The movie continues, but neither of us seems particularly invested anymore. Every once in a while, I catch her staring at me, but she looks away just a second too late.
A dramatic song begins to play, the credits finally rolling. Relief and dread crash into me at the same time.
This is it.
I take another large gulp of my Coke, then set the can down on the coffee table and turn toward her.
“Uh, Ella?”
She blinks, like I’ve pulled her from somewhere far away.
“Yeah?”
My mouth suddenly feels dry, but I take her hand in mine.
“Um, I need to talk to you about something.”
She glances down at our joined hands and smiles, my heart thumping wildly.
“You’re my first best friend,” I say, squeezing her hand gently. “And you’ll always be one of my best friends.”
Her smile softens, but it slowly fades when she hears the hesitation in my voice.
My throat tightens.
“But I need some space.”
The words hang between us. Ella’s brows pull together, confusion flashing across her face before it goes completely blank.
“Why?” She asks, voice low.
“I realized something today.” My voice comes out smaller than I intended. “When I was at my lowest, I thought pills and alcohol were helping me survive. Really, they are just helping me avoid everything I didn’t want to face.”
I swallow hard.
“I asked for them, so I’m not putting it all on you. But I can’t keep reaching for an escape every time life gets too hard. And right now, being around you would make that too easy.”
For a second, she just stares at me. Then her hand trembles in mine.
I squeeze it again.
Ella yanks her hand away like my touch burned her.
“Is that so?”
She pushes off the couch and starts pacing, her arms wrapping tightly around herself before falling away again. Her movements are restless, frantic. “Let me guess. Cullen put you up to this.” A dry laugh escapes her. “God, he’s always had it out for me.”
I watch her wear a path into the carpet and feel a pang of guilt twist in my gut.
I don’t think Cullen ever had it out for Ella.
He could just see what I refused to.
Standing, I move into her path until she’s forced to stop. “Cullen didn’t put me up to anything,” I say gently. “He helped me see something I didn’t want to look at, but this decision is mine.”
I reach for her again, but she jerks away before I can make contact.
“Ella, I’m doing this because I need to get better. Every time things got hard, I looked for something to numb myself. I can’t keep doing that. I won’t.”
The hurt on her face makes me want to take every word back, even knowing I can’t.
The last thing I want is for her to think I’m punishing her.
“Maybe you should talk to someone,” I say carefully. “About using pills, I mean.”
Her head snaps up.
“I’m not an addict, Hudson.”
The words hit the room like a slap. Her entire body is trembling now, anger and hurt battling for control. I shouldn’t be surprised by the reaction, but some stupid part of me had hoped she’d understand why I need to do this.
My gaze locks on her, and I realize her pupils are blown wide, her eyes glassy and unfocused. She sways slightly where she stands, like she’s struggling to keep still.
It hits me.
“Ella, you’re high right now.”
Her eyes flit to my Coke can sitting on the coffee table before darting back to me. Her hands begin to shake, tears gathering in her eyes.
“This isn’t forever,” I say, keeping my voice as steady as I can. “I just need time. I’m finally starting to feel like myself again, and I can’t risk going backwards.”
A yawn slips out, my eyes watering slightly. My body feels like it’s coming down from the anticipation of talking to her.
Ella doesn’t seem to hear me. Her attention drops to the coffee table. Slowly, she picks up the Coke I’d been drinking and holds it out to me.
I stare at the can for a moment before taking it.
“Finish your drink,” she says softly.
Something about the way she says it sends a chill down my spine.
My grip tightens around the can.
Alarm bells blare in my head as I yawn again. My eyes dart from the Coke, then to Ella’s face that is full of… longing—love?
Motherfucker.
The can falls from my hand, soda splattering the hardwood. I take a large step away from her, my hands coming up to halt her from following.
“What did you put in my drink, Ella?” My pulse is roaring in my ears, sweat breaking out on my brow. So many emotions are riding me hard—confusion, anger, hurt—but the look on Ella’s face makes my stomach twist.
“I just want you to be with me,” she confesses, her smile twisted into something calculating. “If you’d just drink, then you can see how good we could be together.”
My jaw drops open, unable to get out any words.
“I almost had you, you know. At Katie’s party.”
What the actual fuck is happening right now? I slowly back my way towards the door, Ella and her deranged smile following.
“Ella, I’m gay. You know that.” I’m not paying attention to where I’m going, backing right into a corner.
She comes up and grips my shirt, her eyes glassy. “You’ve always been my best friend, but we could be more. I tried to get you loose at the party so you could see that.”
“So Cull was right. Y-you drugged me.”
She giggles, her hands making their way under my shirt. I grab her wrist before she can make contact with my skin, pulling them away from my body.
“It was just a little something to help you relax. If Cullen hadn’t been in the backyard that night, things would have turned out so differently.” She sighs and steps back, giving me a little breathing room.
“Ella?” I move away from the corner, now only a couple of feet from the door. All the red flags are waving at me, and I need this one question answered.
Ella looks at me, tears in her eyes.
“Are you the one who has been stalking me?” I finally ask, my stomach doing somersaults.
Fat tears drip from her cheeks, her expression shocked. “Wh-what?”
“Ella, please. I need to know… is it you?”
She’s softly sobbing, my heart breaking right along with hers.
This is killing me. I’ve never suspected her, but considering she’s confessed to drugging me and has an apparent undying love, I need to be sure.
“No, Hudson,” she finally spits. “Why would I send myself those notes and texts? I just wanted you to give me a chance.” Her mood shifts on a dime, the sadness morphing to anger.
“I can’t believe you’d accuse me of that.
For fucks sake, the worst I’ve done is pop some benzos into a bottle of tequila and put your medicine bottle in that slut Heather’s—”
She slaps a hand over her mouth, her eyes as wide as saucers.
All the air leaves my lungs.
“You put my pill bottle where?” I ask, seething.
I advance on Ella. She retreats until her butt meets the arm of the couch and sits.
“I was just so mad…” She’s crying again, but now I couldn't care less.
“What did you do?” I yell, spit flying past my lips.
She winces, real fear radiating from her. “I-I stole your pills from your Bronco while we were on our date… I planted the empty bottle in her purse.”
My hands fly to my hair, tugging to help ground me. I breathe deeply, trying to remember my counts. Tears well in my own eyes, betrayal and hurt like I’ve never felt before bubbling to the surface.
“Hudson, I’m sorry! I know it was a silly thing to do, but when you told me you were with Cull, it cut so, so deep. I was high and angry and—”
“Silly thing to do? Are you fucking kidding me, Ella?”
She reaches for me but I grab her wrist, using every ounce of self-restraint I have not to hurt her.
I shove her hand away and point a finger in her face.
“I was accused of rape! Handcuffed at our graduation in front of our entire senior class and God knows how many parents. I lost my scholarship and my place at Ashbridge. It fucking helped push me off that ledge!”
“I didn’t think she’d go to the police and make up a story like that,” she whispers.
“What did you hope to accomplish by doing that then?”
Ella just shrugs, her arms holding herself around her midsection.
The fact that she doesn’t have a real reason hurts more than if she did.
“I never want to see you again.” The words feel like glass scraping their way up my throat, so many mixed emotions running rampant in my system. “Don’t call me. Don’t text me. Do not show up at my house.”
“Hudson, I’m sorry! Can’t we talk about this? I’ll be better. I won’t give you pills anymore. I won’t—” She’s frantically reaching for me, but I’m backing away, my head shaking.
She doesn’t even understand the gravity of what she’s done. The damage she’s caused.
“I’ve defended you at every turn. Made sure Cull knew you weren’t the bad guy. But all along you were playing against me.”
Her body shakes as she cries, her face red and blotchy.
There is nothing left to be said, so I silently turn and walk out of the house.
The moment the car door slams shut, I scream.
The sound rips out of me before I can stop it. My fist crashes into the dash, then again, and again, until the sting shooting through my hand forces me to stop. My entire body is shaking.
Ella was my first best friend. My first secret keeper. We grew up together, celebrated birthdays, and went on family vacations together. She was woven into nearly every good memory I have from childhood.
And somehow I don’t know her at all.
A sob catches me off guard. I fold forward, my forehead pressing against the steering wheel as everything crashes over me at once.
The drugging. Heather. My false charges.
My fingers start to tingle.
Shit.
I suck in a breath, but it doesn’t feel like enough air. My counts are coming too slowly, the chaos in my mind blocking everything I’ve learned these last few weeks in therapy.
My pulse pounds against my ribs, hard enough to hurt, and for one terrifying moment, I feel the ground shifting beneath me. Not a full panic attack, but close enough that I recognize the warning signs.
Maria’s voice cuts through the noise in my brain.
“Name what you’re feeling.”
Betrayed.
Angry.
Heartbroken.
The feelings don’t disappear, but putting words to them keeps them from swallowing me whole.
I squeeze my eyes shut and focus on my breathing, trying to remember my counts.
In for four. Hold for four. Out for four.
It helps. Not much, but enough.
Enough for me to reach into my pocket and pull out my phone. Enough to know I don’t want pills or an escape.
What I need is help.
My thumb hovers over Cullen’s name before dropping to the contact beneath it.
The phone rings twice.
“Hudson?” Maria answers.
My hands shake, my voice broken when I reply. “Maria, I need to see you. Right now.”
“My last client just left,” she tells me. “Come on in.”
The call ends, and I sit there for another moment, gripping the steering wheel.
Everything hurts.
I’m still angry. Still grieving. Still trying to wrap my mind around Ella’s confession.
Two months ago, I would have looked for a way to numb this.
Today, I’m asking for help.