Take Me On

I lost my virginity to Stephen. He’s the first guy I ever said the words I love you to. And he’s betraying me? He’s trying to scare me? What has he become?

I feel my eyes dart, even though I’m honestly looking at nothing within the room. My mind rapidly tries to sort through the anger, the confusion and the weird emptiness. I’m mad at Stephen—all right, that’s the understatement of the century. The next time I see him, I’ll fry him like the catfish my brothers catch at the lake, but what I’m lacking is the epic sense of betrayal, the massive pang of hurt, the emotions I experienced last night because Lincoln lied to me. I mean, Stephen and I were together for two years. That should count for something, right?

“Lila?” Grace refocuses my attention on her. “Are you okay?”

“The bastard is going to hang from his toenails, but, yeah, I’m fine.” Astonishingly so.

She fidgets with her class ring. “Don’t let him find out I’m the one who told you, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. Sure.” Grace and Chad are an item. She’s worked hard over the past year to claim him as her guy. “Why did you tell me, anyway?”

The fire that always consumes Grace dissolves. “Because I want us to be friends again. I made some really bad choices, and I’m sorry. You’re leaving for Florida, and if we don’t fix this now, it won’t be fixed.”

Just as things will never be fixed between her and Echo. She doesn’t say it, but it’s there, hanging in the air like the stench of rotten fish.

A lot of bad blood has been shed, but maybe people can change. As much as that thought makes me happy, it also saddens me. No matter what, the relationship between Grace and me will never be the same. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

Grace stands there, looking like a damn puppy locked in a cage at the store. Unfortunately, I’ve got a soft spot for imprisoned animals. “Maybe we could go shopping together sometime.”

She cracks a smile. “Yeah. That’d be great.”

I close the door behind Grace and walk to my bedroom. Across the hall, water beats against the tub as Lincoln takes a shower. A black T-shirt pokes out from the backpack still resting against my bedroom door. I told him to store the pack in my room last night as he was warming the hot chocolate, but I didn’t realize what he’d see: the stacks of letters still lying on my bed and the scrapbook page I made for his graduation.

I sink to the corner of my bed and stare into the room as if I’ve never seen it. Everything is changing. My relationships are changing, my future is changing, my feelings are changing. My life is one big constant state of flux. I grew up scared of spiders, bees and dark corners in dimly lit basements. But this foe...change...it terrorizes me like nothing before.

For the first time in my life, I wish I wasn’t growing up.





Lincoln

A rush? Heights and rocks sound like a huge risk. But if you were there, I think I would consider climbing.

~ Lila

The high-pitch creaking of drawers being opened and closed greets me when I exit the bathroom. Across the hall, Lila yanks a manila file from her desk, flips through it, then dumps it onto the growing pile on the floor. The papers of the folder spill out, creating a fan.

“Lila?” I ask and step into her room. “What’s going on?”

“I can’t find it.” She hammers the drawer shut and opens the bottom one with such force that it falls out of the desk. “I can’t freaking find it!”

My letters to her still sit on her bed, stacked neatly. My chest squeezes again at the sight of them. I can’t believe it. She kept all my letters—just like I kept all of hers.

The room represents Lila perfectly—order, discipline. Yeah, everything fits, except for the golden-haired pixie set on mass destruction. “Can’t find what?”

“My acceptance package from the University of Louisville. The one that has the paperwork for me to return. I put it in a file. I labeled it. I would have filed it in alphabetical order under Colleges, but it’s not here.”

She frantically searches through the files. Once. Twice. A third time. Lila slams her hands on the floor next to her. “Where is it?!”

I approach her slowly. The way I had to with Meg when she found out she was pregnant. I bend my knees to crouch in front of her. “Why do you need the file?”

Lila tilts her head as if she’s noticing me for the first time. Her eyes are too wide for her delicate face. “I’m going to accept.”

I blink. “Accept?” I suck in air to steady myself. It’s as if the girl socked me in the stomach with a bat. “What about Florida?”

“Stephen’s the one pranking me.” The words tumble out as she clasps her hands over her chest. “He wanted to scare me, and it worked. I was terrified. Terrified! I can’t do it.” She chokes on a sob. “I can’t go to Florida. Not by myself.”

I bolt upright. Rage explodes through me—the eruption of the volcano complete. The bastard’s dead. No question. “Tell me where he is.”

Her eyebrows scrunch together. “Who?”