Hot water cascaded from the top of my head, down my chest, over my stomach, all the way to the shower floor. The warmth was welcomed after standing in the rain. Although, admittedly, while I was standing in the rain, I hadn’t noticed the cold.
Oh, no.
I was very much not cold outside, with Hayes’s arms wrapped around me, lips kissing mine, hands running all over me.
Good God, he could kiss. I remembered the kiss we shared two years ago, but everyone knew your first kiss was never the greatest. I remember it being amazing, not only because of the actual kiss, but because of the way it made me feel.
Well, kiss number one with Hayes held no candle to kiss number two.
The first time, he kissed me because he thought he’d never have another chance. But the second time, well, he kissed me because he got the chance he never thought he’d have.
I pushed thoughts of Cory out of my mind. It was maddening to think about the two of them in the same frame, as if they were mutually exclusive—which they were. I could only have one without the other. But the difference was, I kept telling myself, that Cory wasn’t a choice anymore.
I let out a large sigh as I rinsed the conditioner out of my hair.
We’d kissed in the rain until Hayes had finally pulled away, running the back of his large hands over my cheeks, telling me to go inside and warm up, but that we weren’t finished. I did what he asked because I had just been kissed stupid, but as I dried off and put on a pair of yoga pants and a tank top, I found myself getting nervous, wondering what he’d meant.
I walked into the living room and noticed my house was still empty. I figured Mom had stopped at Mrs. Wallace’s when she got off work, and I’m sure she was planning on staying for a while since she was upset about the ring.
The ring.
I wasn’t surprised that Cory had picked out a ring for me. In fact, absolutely nothing about our relationship surprised me because everything was so transparent and laid out for us. Our story had been written before either one of us could put up any kind of argument.
I grabbed my backpack and started working on the piles and piles of homework I’d gathered from school. Twenty minutes later I’d done a pretty good job of sorting work out and determining which assignments needed to be completed first. I’d always been a really good student, so I was determined to catch up quickly. The last term of senior year was not the time to fall behind.
When the front door opened and my mother walked through, followed closely by my father, I let out a relieved sigh. Time alone was making my brain run at hyper speed.
“I’m sorry we’re so late, sweetie. Chelsea was a mess again.”
“I know. I probably didn’t help. I kind of bailed on her.” I did feel badly about running out on her. She had no idea the real reason I ran, and I could only imagine how much pain she thought I was in.
My mother gave me a sad look and then her and my father sat down at the table. “Honey, we saw the ring.” Her words were in the same sympathetic tone I’d grown used to, the same voice so many people had used to speak to me that day.
“Do you want to talk about it?” This came from my father, the same man who’d made me wait until I was sixteen to even go on a date or have a boyfriend. If Cory were alive and had given me a promise ring, I knew he wouldn’t be sitting across from me at the table trying to have a rational conversation with me about it. Funny how death changed everything.
“I don’t think there’s much to say about it,” I replied. “It doesn’t change anything. It just kind of makes it sadder, ya know?” I dropped my pencil on the table and let out a big sigh. “He was probably really excited to give that ring to me—whatever it meant.” I paused and looked down at my hands. “But he never got the chance to give it to me. There’s so much he never got to do.”
“What about you?” my mother asked gently.
“What about me?” Her question confused me.
“What about everything you’re missing out on?” I must have had a perplexed look on my face because she continued. “What about everything you’ll never get to do with Cory? How are you feeling about that aspect of it all?”
I shrugged. “We all lost something that day. But what bothers me the most is what Cory lost. And, I suppose, what Mrs. Wallace and Hayes lost too. When I look at who all has been affected by their murder, I can’t feel sorry for myself.”
“You’re a good kid,” my dad says, still with a sad smile across his face.
“Did you get to eat dinner?” Mom asks.
“I ate with Hayes.” I tried not to let my face flush at the mention of his name. I didn’t really know exactly what was going on between us, but I knew no one—especially our parents—would understand.