Always and Forever (21 page)

Laughing and talking animatedly, he climbed the steps up to the front porch, his arm slung around Kara Lambert's shoulders. She fairly glowed and beamed up at him as though he was her own personal star. Hurt, unimaginable pain, the likes of which I'd only read about in books, slammed into me. The urge to fly at Kara, claws extended, screeching out an enraged order for her to
get her fucking hands off my boyfriend
was so great that it nearly took my breath away.

I couldn't do this. I thought I could, but seeing him, here, enjoying himself with some other girl ripped my chest wide open. My heart disintegrated into a smattering of dust and blew far into the winds. I turned on my heel abruptly, needing an escape.

As I was turning away, Kal and Kara—
how sickeningly cute a couple name is that?
—passed Dave, toting Brad outside. Brad,
apparently not as zoned out as either Dave or I had suspected, straightened up and lashed out at Kal in a move that was snake-strike quick.

“Hey, man, what was that for?” Kal shoved away from Brad, confused but also a little pissed, too.

“Asshole,” Brad grumbled. Dave pulled him away, physically having to manhandle Brad into the Hummer all the while muttering apologies to Kal and Kara.

Kal stared after them for a long moment, watching as Dave belted Brad in and Brad shoved at Dave's hands. Heated words spewed back and forth between them, words silenced by the cocoon of the Hummer's interior. Then, Dave threw the vehicle in gear and tore out of the front lawn. Kal stood, still as a stone for nearly a full minute, in which Kara did her best to drag him back to reality. Finally, shoulders drooping under some invisible weight, he turned to her with a small, sad smile.

When she melted into him, I took my leave. I really couldn't watch her attempt at sucking his face off. That was asking a bit too much.

I threaded my way back through the crowd, this time ignoring anyone who tried to waylay me into conversation. Stopping off in the kitchen, I exchanged my still half-full cup of beer for a can of Coke and headed out the back door.

My progress halted when I found the back porch occupied.

“Hey,” Adam lifted his plastic cup in a mock-salute. “I didn't know you were here.” He shoved over and patted the bench. “Come on over. I hear misery loves company.”

“Funny,” I muttered. “I heard the same thing.” I slid in beside him and shivered slightly. My coat was still in the hall closet with the drunk lesbians.

“Oh…here.” He unzipped his coat, tugged one arm loose, and then scooted over. “Sorry I'm not chivalrous enough to just give you my jacket. But it's damn cold out here.”

Gratefully, I slid closer, strung my arm through the open sleeve, and pressed up against him. “Thanks,” I breathed against his shoulder.

“Not a problem, Mia.” He slid his arm around me inside the jacket, dragging me tight up against his side so that he could zip the
front closed. It only went up halfway, but it was enough to stave off the icy air. “So,” he said, cutting through the perfect silence between us. “I heard about you and Kal. I'm sorry.”

I tried to shrug but couldn't in the close confines of the coat. “I'm sorry about Ricki,” I said instead.

“It's not your fault she decided to fuck every dude she came across,” he mumbled, bitterness rolling off him in giant waves of agony.

“Yeah, well…that's not exactly what happened.” At his look, I shook my head. Yeah, I guess it really didn't matter. But for all that had happened between us, Ricki had been one of my best friends for so long, and I felt this need to defend her. “I'm still sorry,” I offered up, lame as it was.

“Thanks.”

The silence stretched out, wrapping us up in our own miserable little bubble, a cocoon of despair. After what seemed like an eternity, he laughed, a hollowed-out version of his normally full-bodied guffaws.

“What?” I asked, looking up at him curiously.

“Nothing…well, it's just…you know…life. It never works out the way you imagine it, you know?”

Boy, did I ever.

“Five years ago, if you would've asked me who I thought I'd end up with, I would've had a completely different answer.” He laughed again, the emptiness of it scratching at my skin, shredding my bones. “Actually, I expected to end up with you,” he admitted.

“Me?” Forget surprise. I was incredulous. Never once in all the years that I'd known him, had I ever looked at Adam in that way. First and foremost, he'd been Kal's friend, and then he'd been Ricki's boyfriend. His brothers played with Ben. That was pretty much it.

Now…well, now, I did look, and surprisingly, I found the view very nice, indeed.

He nodded, sad smile tucking up the corners of his lips, and his arm around me tightened. “But then, you got sick.”

I stiffened, not needing to hear anymore. “I see.”

His mouth dropped open and he started to shake his head. “No, Mia. I didn't mean—”

“No, I get it.” I struggled away from him, fighting with the zipper to free myself from the prison of his coat, his arms. “You didn't want
to kiss the sick girl. It's completely understandable.” Why the fuck wouldn't this zipper work? Was it super glued shut?

“No, Mia. It wasn't like that,” he hurried to reassure me.

“Oh, yeah? Then, tell me what it was like,” I snapped, jerking at the zipper.

“You got sick,” he began again.

“I know that,” I burst out. “I was sick.
Me.
That's not something a girl is likely to forget.”

His hands closed over mine, gently prying my fingers away from the twisted, mangled fabric surrounding the zipper. “You were sick,” he said again. “And Kal swooped right in, became your knight in shining armor.” He slid the zipper down, the coat falling open, allowing the cold air to assault our skin. “After that, you two were inseparable. I mean, you spent a lot of time together before that, but after…” He trailed off on a shrug. “I couldn't compete with that, and besides, Bro Code specifically states that
A Bro does not move in on another Bro's territory
.”

I laughed. “You're such a dork.”

He chuckled too, leaning in close to me. “But a dork who's going to kiss you right now,” he murmured, huskily.

“What about the Bro Code?” I couldn't help but ask, all the while my eyes were trained on his mouth, anticipating the moment his lips would land on mine.

He leaned back and brought his hand up to my chin, turning my face first right and then left. Then, he lifted my arm, turned it over. He did the same thing with the other one.

“Adam? What are you doing?”

“Shh,” he admonished, running his fingers along my neck as he inspected me. “I'm looking for a
Property of Kal
stamp.”

A loud giggle tumbled out. “Oh, well that fell off weeks ago,” I told him.

“Well, alright then.” He needed no further invitation. He swooped in, slanting his mouth firmly over mine, enveloping me in a masterful kiss, one that bespoke how much practice he'd put in on this particular skill, one designed to leave me breathless and clinging to him.

I felt nothing.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

We sprang apart at the screeched question, an interruption I was actually appreciative of until the source of the shout was revealed.

Ricki stood, fists clenched at her sides, face dark with rage and hurt, glaring daggers at me. “What the fuck are you doing, kissing my boyfriend?” she shrieked at me. “What kind of friend are you?”

“I thought we weren't friends anymore,” I mumbled, shoving away from Adam and up to my feet. “And, he's not your boyfriend anymore. You saw to that.”

An enraged scream burst out of her, and she flew at me, hands curved into claws. Ironic how I'd been thinking of doing the exact same thing to someone else just a little while ago. Karma can be a cruel bitch sometimes.

Adam jumped in between us, clamping his arms around Ricki. She fought him, spitting and scratching until he heaved out an exasperated groan and tossed an apologetic look my way. Then, he dragged her down the steps, getting her away from the house to talk her down.

I didn't wait around to see if she tendered any apologies. Instead, I whirled around, intent upon making a quick—and hopefully quiet—exit. And locked eyes with Kal, who was standing on the other side of the kitchen window that overlooked the bench. Yeah. He'd had a front row seat for all of it.

Tears burned their way up the back of my throat, shooting their stinging rays into my eyes. I tore my gaze from his and ran. He would not see me cry. I wasn't going to give him that satisfaction.

T
WENTY
-F
IVE

EVERYONE WAS STILL ASLEEP
when I dragged myself out of bed and down the stairs. Good. After coming home last night to the unbearable silence of their disappointment, I really wasn't anticipating spending a lonely Saturday in the company of my parents.

Pulling a thermos out of the cupboard, I filled it with steaming black coffee, left a note on the table, and slipped out the back door. It took everything I had to keep my eyes trained on the ground, so overwhelming was the urge to shoot a quick glance up at Kal's window. Was he up yet? Looking out his window? Would he know where I was headed? Did he even care?

Did I want him to?

I dragged in a breath, cold air searing my lungs. I hunched my shoulders forward, dropped my head and quickened my pace. I had to stop thinking of him, of everything that we'd shared and everything that we never would. Besides, why should I torture myself with such thoughts?

A low, bitter chuckle bounced off my ears, shattering the crisp, clean, quiet. It was one of God's cruelest ironies that a body never died of heartbreak, the most unimaginable, torturous pain around.

I continued my walk for close to an hour, cutting through yards, strolling through the park, trudging along beside the highway until I finally reached my destination. I hadn't been there in almost a year, yet I found her headstone with no problem.

“Hey, Jilly Bean,” I whispered, sliding my hand across her marker, dusting the loose debris off. The ground was cold and hard
beneath me but devoid of snow. So, I tucked my legs under me and got comfortable.

“I brought your favorite,” I told her, picking up the thermos. Unscrewing the top, I sipped the scalding brew, wincing against the bitter flavor as it scorched my tongue. Then, I tipped the thermos enough to splash a little on the ground between me and her marker. “Nasty stuff, if I do say so myself, but this was for you, so…” I trailed off with a shrug.

I took another sip and looked around. Little had changed in the small cemetery since I'd last been here. Jill's entire family was buried here. From what she'd told me, her family had built this cemetery. The sloping grounds, such a vibrant green in the spring and summer months, the tall, stone walls that bordered the grounds, and the sprawling old oak tree at the center of it all. The tree that Jill rested almost right at the foot of.

“I'm so sorry I didn't come see you sooner, Jilly,” I whispered on a sob. “I know we promised each other every birthday and every Christmas, but…” I shook my head, tears popping out and racing down my face. “You were always the better one. Always a smile, even there at the end when things got really bad. I mean, what kid can grow up with cancer, get limb after limb amputated and still be happy. You were always so happy. I just…I just don't understand it!”

I leaned forward, reached out a hand, to touch her marker. I'd met Jill Bruin four years ago, during one of my many rounds of chemo. Like almost all cancer kids, she'd been a baldy, but a beautiful one. She had the biggest bluest eyes I'd ever seen and a smile that could've lit up even the darkest corner of Hell.

She'd been fourteen when she finally succumbed to the cancer.

Rhabdomyosarcomas. Yeah, don't even ask me to pronounce it. Before I'd met Jilly, I'd thought the only kind of cancer that killed kids was Leukemia. Boy, was I wrong. To be fair, hers was an extremely rare type that was really only seen in children, and even then, it wasn't often. It affected the muscles and limbs. When I met Jill, her legs were gone, amputated at the knees. She used to joke that God was so excited to see her that he kept requesting pieces of her ahead of time.

Like I said, nothing got her down.

“But it's okay, Jilly Beans,” I told her. A hollow laugh dropped off the edge of my lips. “Because I'm going to be seeing you soon. Much sooner than either of us ever expected.”

I sniffled, scrubbed at my face, but the tears just kept coming, starting out hot and fast and then slowing to a near crawl as the air chilled them. They collected on my chin, came together to form a steady
drip-drip-drip
, and turned me into an annoyingly leaky faucet. Unfolding myself, I swiveled around, lay down, and then curled up on my side so that my face was right next to her granite slab, just like how we used to lay on her hospital bed when I'd visit her. Huddled close, faces mere inches apart.

“Brain cancer, Jilly. How messed up is that? All those times you kept trying to educate me by rambling on and on about history and science, and now look. My brain is going to be so full of holes, all that stuff you tried to teach me is going to leak right out.” I tried for a bright, sparkling smile, but failed miserably. Good thing I was talking to her grave and not her. She'd definitely call me on my bullshit.

“I've only got a couple months left. Maybe less,” I told her, picking at the cold, dead grass on her grave. “The doctors said probably May, but you know that number changes. Hell, less than a month ago, I had a year. I just…I just…”

The dam burst, then. Great, keening wails swam out of me, and I was powerless to stop them. I curled in on myself, bringing my knees up to my chest and folding my arms around my head.

“I just want things to go back to the way that they were before all this…this shit happened. Before I got sick. Before I threw everything into a hand basket and shipped it FedEX straight to Hell. I want to run and jump and laugh. I want to play video games with Ben, even though I suck at them. I want to have dinner with Mom and Dad without this horrible black cloud hanging over our heads. I want to see Ricki and Adam and Brad and Dave all happy.”