Becca
Chapter 21
Becca
29 Days Dead
This day just keeps getting worse and it’s not even six a.m.
I’m caught in grief’s tightening grip as my brother slips into my room with the first rays of sun. We’re both still as death as he traces my room with an artist’s eyes, memorizing every detail, and appreciating the small things. But of course, his eyes skip right over me, and that heavy hand squeezes all the air out of my lungs, leaving me hollow and weak.
We might not have always understood each other, but he loved me and that was worth more than I ever let him know. Emotion clogs my throat as I stroke the butterfly tattoos he drew for me.
Sitting on the bed, he’s incredibly close yet so far away. “We said I could go first. Like the overachiever you are, you just couldn’t be second, could you?” A snotty laugh escapes him. “This is so fucked up. I don’t know how to do this.” He rubs his eyes and attempts to suck in a controlled breath, but it devolves into a quiet sob. Witnessing the pain I’ve caused is my burden to bear, so I take this last opportunity to look at him, really look at him. Instead of the similarities that always tied us together, I’m stuck on the stark difference of his chest rising and falling, the pumping of his heart, the way he takes up space—he always has, but this hurts more than ever.
“I’m sorry I left you.” The ache to comfort him feels like it could shatter me, but what’s the point when it gets lost in the silent pit that separates us? There’s nothing I can do to fix the devastating domino effect my actions have had on him or my parents. Aiden is alive and yet he looks hollowed out by the loss of me. Bright, determined eyes are darkened with grief, just like the bags beneath his eyes. His pale pallor is sickly, near translucent instead of porcelain.
“I failed you, Sis. I’ll never forgive myself, but I can’t stay here. This house has become your tomb, one I’m trapped in just staring down at your dead body. Everywhere I look, it’s empty eyes and your blood smeared on the walls, the floors, my hands.”
“I hate that I’ve become the thing that haunts you.” Regret swells inside me the longer I’m near him.
“I know it wasn’t enough, but just know I loved you and I always will.”
“God, I’m going to miss you, but I hope leaving sets you free from the memories of this place.”
Aiden lets out a long sigh. “No matter how many miles are between us, even separated by time and space, you’ll always be with me.” Bracing himself, he gets off the bed and takes one last look at my room, his gaze snagging on my jewelry box, which he proceeds to open and sift through. Silver catches the rising sun as he slips on a few rings. That’s something isn’t it? That a little piece of me will be with him? That some part of me will get to see who he becomes without my ghost breathing down his neck? Even if it’s a silly fantasy, I’m enshrining it as one of the fundamental truths of this new world I find myself in.
“I hope you find new reasons to smile—you always had the best fucking smile.” I laugh like he made a typical smug remark. “I love you, Aiden.” I squeeze my eyes shut, I don’t want the last memory to be of him leaving me, a courtesy he wasn’t afforded.
The house heaves a sigh when Aiden shuts the front door, like the air has become lighter—one less person’s grief to hold. But to me, it’s notably emptier. Another piece is carved out of me. Who knew a razor blade could do so much more than slice?
Those wounds that have started to heal over bleed anew. Returning to the scene of the crime, I sink down into the empty tub and really let myself stew in it. This time, instead of cold bath water, it’s my tears that carry me under; I let them wash me out to sea. Wave after wave of devastation washes over me, pummeling me. As I wade further and further out, a new kind of hunger I’ve never experienced grows in the void of my gut.
But in the endless sea of nothing, there’s Stasi standing in the doorway. With seasick eyes, I can’t tell if she’s a shark looking for blood in the water or if maybe she’s something to hold onto, just for right now, just until I can hold my head above the sloshing waves on my own.
She sits on the edge of the tub hovering uncomfortably close to me. The pads of her fingers press beneath my chin to tilt my head up. I freeze at the contact, my body confused by how gentle it is. I sway unsteadily between the instinct to recoil and the unfamiliar urge to lean into it. Something about her grounding hold and velvety skin on mine is like crawling into the safety of my bed after a bad day. But of course, the peace doesn’t last.
After several seconds of assessing my tear-stained face, she shakes her head, replacing the care in her eyes with annoyance. “What do we have here, Crybaby? Another pity party, what a surprise.”
This snaps me out of the false sense of security she lulled me into. “What do you want?”
“So many things you could never give me.” A deep sigh of disappointment heaves her chest up and down. “But I’ll settle for conversation, dull as it may be.”
Like a rogue piece of wood, Stasi’s sharp and uncomfortable, but she’s there. She can give me a reprieve from the struggle, for a few minutes at least. Even if it’s just taking my focus off treading water and on to the splinters that dig into my arm. “Fine. It’s not like I have anything better going on. What should we talk about?”
“Why are you moping this time?” Stasi’s curled fingers still press into the underside of my jaw. The way she holds me like it’s the most natural thing makes this the first time I’ve felt steady in so long.
“Aiden’s gone.” I swallow thickly. “For good, I think.” The last part is said with trembling lips.
“That’s—” She looks away and drops her hand. “I’m sorry.”
The sudden absence of her fingers leaves me floundering. “You are?” I huff with disbelief, my brow raising in challenge.
“I am.”
Two little words, the smallest bit of comfort, stir something in me, and before I know what I’m doing, my body is in motion. With a hand laced behind Stasi’s neck, I pull her into me, our lips pressing together. In sync, she climbs into the tub, straddling me. But when her tongue enters my mouth, it does so cautiously, moving in lazy circles; it’s nothing like the claiming she pursued when we kissed at the party. That’s what I need right now. That’s what will make me forget everything that’s so much worse than letting her think she was right about me. I deserve to fall into whatever this is for just a little bit.
Attempting to provoke that fervor from her, I tangle my tongue with hers, rubbing along that pink and silver piercing that teases me every time she speaks her stinging words. Still, she barely reacts.
“Is something wrong?” I don’t bother hiding my frustration.
“What do you think you’re doing exactly?”
“I—” Confusion swims through me as I look into her deep brown eyes that are flat and cold, there’s none of that simmering heat beneath the surface. She’s been tempting me with her words and body during nearly every interaction we’ve had. “Isn’t this what you wanted?
“You can’t just use me,” she bites out.
“I’m not.”
“I won’t let you enjoy this and then deny anything happened tomorrow.” With feather-light fingers, she pulls up my flannel that’s fallen down my shoulder. “What is it that you want, Becca?”
“I want to do this.” I gesture between us.
“Do what, exactly?” Her prodding words poke at the monster of grief that’s lingering just beneath my skin.
“Why won’t you just make this easy? This doesn’t have to mean anything. It doesn’t have to change anything.” I slap my hand on the edge of the tub. “I just need to forget about everything. I just need a distraction.”
A flash of betrayal sharpens her features, making her previous disdain for me feel like child’s play. “Is that what I am? A pretty distraction?” Her glare could incinerate me. “Are you still trying to deny that you want this? Want me ?” The words are a snapping bite against my lips. “Are you saying that if I was literally anyone in the world, it wouldn’t matter because you just need someone to make you forget about how you fucked up your life?”
I have to look away to hold back the tears that are on the precipice of springing free.
“Answer. Me.” Her fingers dig into the side of my chin, and my hand snaps around her wrist at the discomfort.
“Yes.” My nervous swallow is absurdly loud in the silence between us. “I told you; I’m not interested in women like that. I was just drunk. I was just…experimenting.”
“Oh, okay. I see. So you’re not interested in women, but one will do for a quick, desperate fuck?” Her eyes are wide with furious disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Lips that are still wet with my saliva brush across my cheek as she brings them to my ear. “You know what I think?” I don’t but I can’t find my words, so she continues. “I think that you’re a dirty little liar. I would bet everything that your panties are drenched.” She shifts her weight in my lap, her own wetness apparent against my stomach. “I think that every inch of your body is telling you to touch me, and not because of that bullshit about a distraction.” She laughs viciously. “You want to kiss me, want to touch me, want me to touch you because you know that it’ll feel better than anything else you’ve ever experienced in your entire life. Having me get you off would be the greatest fucking escape. “A yelp escapes me as she takes my ear between her teeth and tugs one of my piercings. I shove her back. “Next time you want to play a game that’s way out of your league, you should know that if I ever fucked you, it would change everything.”
Her cockiness pours gasoline on the warring emotions within me. Everything I’ve been holding back is burning up in my veins. The cruel smile that twists her lips sets fire to my self-control. I’m scrambling to catch it before it douses the heat that rises within me. Her hand sliding up my thigh seeking that damning evidence triggers the explosive that detonates. “Don’t touch me.” My nails dig into the top of her hand, halting its ascent. “You want the truth? Fine. The only reason I kissed you is because I thought a slut like you would be an easy distraction. As you said, who even cares anymore whether I like women or not, we’re dead.” Confidence builds behind my voice as I watch her control of the situation slipping away. “You were right. Happy? I was just using you. Nothing more, nothing less. I’m sure a girl like you is used to that, right?”
Challenge sparks in Stasi’s eyes as she shoves the hurt that was just there down somewhere I can’t reach. “You’re cute when you try to be mean. You know that, right?” Her hands burn as they press into my shoulders. “It’s going to be such a sweet victory when you finally give in. I can’t wait to squeeze around those elegant fingers when you can no longer resist the urge to touch me. I might even reward you by moaning your name while you fuck me with a lifetime of denial catching up to you.”
“That’s not going to happen.” My fingers tighten around her wrist. Whatever foolish notion I’d walked into this with, I’d long since come to my senses.
“Oh, Becca.” Stasi pouts mockingly. “You’ve gotten too comfy in that closet. But now that I’ve turned on the light, you’re going to realize how tiny and suffocating it really is in there.” Stasi twists her hands so she’s mirroring my hold on her. “When you’re ready to finally come out, let me know if you need a helping hand.” Her nails dig into my skin. “I’ll take my payment in the form of you coming with my name trapped behind those gritted teeth.”
“I hate to disappoint you, but this was a mistake that won’t happen again.” I snap, but the words hold no weight as she shoves me back and crawls over me. I catch a glimpse of her round ass exposed in the mirror before I force my eyes back to her face.
“Fine by me. Unlike you, I know how to keep a fantasy in check. Yours are going to drive you off a goddamned cliff.”
Her words are sharp. Every inch of her presses into me, pinning me down. The familiar position flips my reality on its head and once again I’m fighting for control of my body. Reflexes in overdrive, I begin thrashing, arms flailing and pushing, legs scrambling so my heels can find purchase. Like last time, I can’t free myself. “Get off. Get off, getoff, getoff, getoff.” Panic seizes me, like a hand around my throat that makes it hard to breathe and impossible to think clearly. There’s just a steady stream of fear pumping through me. I can’t hear anything but my own cries and ragged breath. I can’t see anything but the shadow moving above me. When my head slams against the tiled wall, it knocks me back into the moment. The one where it’s just me and Stasi. The one where I’m relatively safe, aren’t I?
Stasi reaches forward but when I shrink back, she stops. “Shit! I’m sorry. Can I—are you—what happened?”
“Get away from me.”
“I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay.” Steady eyes try to hold mine but I’m desperate to look at anything but her.
“I’m not. Get. Out!” The shout surprises even me. I rarely ever allow myself to express anger, let alone raise my voice at people. But there’s too much warring for my attention, like the black mass hovering over us on the ceiling that I’ve been pointedly ignoring. I’m unable to make out the whispers it rains down on us as all my focus pours into Stasi. I know I should be more concerned with how it grows larger every time I see it, but right now, I just don’t have it in me to care about anything but disappearing into my grief.