32. Chapter 32

32

Heath

September 25th is the last day I want to spend in the living. The day consists of twenty-four hours, but it might as well be a thousand hours with how many memories it carries with it.

I hate how this day holds so much power over me.

My mind feels like it's trapped in a labyrinth of memories from the past. I escape one and enter another. Every passage has ten more. I can't look at something without thinking about my sister.

This town reminds me of her. Part of me desperately wants to abandon this place. Never return here. But the other part knows I'll hate being away from my sister, or whatever is left of her now.

Sitting on the hill, I look down at the town that shimmers with lights.

It's beautiful. I've lost my goddamn mind. I've smoked more than four cigarettes. I'm not sure just how many.

I'm out of my senses tonight. Too much calm. Too many chemicals in my veins.

I used to do weed but Sebastian got me to lay off of it. Now it's just nicotine for me which works like shit but at least it's something. A year ago, I also consumed alcohol, too much of it, until I saw Sebastian go to rehab for it. I stopped after that, deciding that rehab was the last place I wanted to be.

My phone rings for the tenth time. With a groan, I pick it up.

"Where the fuck are you?!" Sebastian roars.

"What do you need?"

"The list is long, but I'll start with get your ass home right fucking now. "

Fuck. He's raging.

"I'll be there," I murmur.

"Don't make me wait or I swear I'll—"

I hang up.

I start driving to my house. My hands tighten around the steering wheel in tension as I speed through the roads. For once, not even the rumble of the engine or the speed affects my mood.

When I reach home, I see Marie's car in the driveway, and I already know they're waiting for me inside.

Fuck.

I walk into the living room and find Marie and Sebastian cuddled up on the couch with a cake on the table.

Marie quickly sits up and looks behind me. "Uh, where's Hope?"

My stomach rolls in uneasiness. "Why would she be with me?"

Marie arches an eyebrow. "She had plans for you."

Right. Of course. Her boring plans.

"She didn't show up," I lie.

Marie looks bewildered, but Sebastian looks like he can see right through me.

"That's strange. She was really excited about it. We talked for an hour. She told me all the things you guys would do. Especially that punching game. She thought you'd love it."

I send her a frustrated glare. "Like I said. We didn't go."

"Oh…" her smile falters and the light in her eyes dim.

Sebastian notices and kisses her cheek. "Babe, why don't you get Hope and let me talk to Heath."

She looks up at him and they talk through their eyes.

"Okay." Pressing a kiss on his cheek she leaves.

The moment the door shuts, Sebastian pulls me to him by my collar and sniffs me.

"I knew it." He pushes me so hard that I miss a step and fall on the sofa. "You're high." He glares at me.

"I'm not high. I don't smoke weed."

"But you smoke enough to lose your fucking mind."

Getting on my feet I push him, but he doesn't budge. "Sebastian, leave me the fuck alone."

"Can't do. Unlike you, I know how to be there for a best friend."

What the fuck? The words are a low blow that hits me straight across the chest .

"Fuck you asshole!" I grit my teeth.

With a scoff, he punches me so hard out of nowhere. The surprise evaporates when my ears start ringing and dots appear in my vision.

"Fuck you too asshole!" he yells in my face.

"What's your problem?" I lunge at him, but he easily tackles me to the ground and straddles me. His heavy weight presses down on me.

His green eyes darken. "You listen to me. And you better listen to me good."

"Piss off!" I roll us over and punch him across the face, knowing damn well Marie will have my head on a platter for ruining his face. But I don't give a fuck. He's the one who started it.

"Not my face you dickhead!" He warns me.

His arm reaches for me, and he hits me across the jaw. Pain bursts through my skin and I groan at the sting.

Annoyance and rage, the two emotions I've been keeping at bay, blend well into a delicious cocktail.

Before I know Sebastian and I are onto each other like wild cats.

I'm oblivious to the count of punches, kicks, curses, and words we exchange. All I know is he's trying to fight off something broken and damaged inside of me. Trying to reach me.

We're a bloody mess by the time Derek pulls us apart. Our faces are covered in bruises and blood.

"Can you act civil for a moment so I can grab the first aid kit?" Derek asks me, his stern stare promising a long lecture later.

Sebastian shrugs. "I can. Can't say the same about Heath."

"You want to go at it again?" I take a step toward him, and he copies. We stand face to face and stare at each other with so much baggage and stuff to unload, but there's also a calm now. The spike in my emotions is lowering slowly and I feel like I can breathe again.

Marie and Hope's voices fill the hallway.

Derek smirks at us. "I guess you two will be just fine."

Marie enters the room first and curses. Hope looks at Sebastian and then at me.

"What the hell happened here?" Marie approaches us, dragging Hope along with her.

Putting her hands on her hips she sizes up the two of us. "I left for twenty minutes and you two look like you had a wrestling match of your own."

"Yours truly started it," I grumble.

"And you nicely reciprocated," Marie rebukes me and I shut up.

"Look babe, I'm sorry. I swear—Ah!" Sebastian holds his jaw, his face morphing into pain.

"Sit your ass down right now."

Ignoring the three of them, I take the stairs. Derek passes me in the hallway with a questioning look, but I spare him no glance.

In my bathroom, I remove my shirt that's stuck to my skin because of sweat. Leaving my pants on I look in the mirror and find a few bruises on my stomach.

Asshole . I hope I left some on him, too. Though Marie would be on my ass for hurting him.

My split lip is bleeding, and my knuckles are scraped.

There are a hundred ways this evening could've gone, but none of them involved Sebastian and me fighting like animals. He landed good hits. Not that I'd ever tell him that.

My phone vibrates on the nightstand. I see Mom's name flashing across the screen. She's called me ten times today, but not once I felt the desire to hear her voice. While Dad hasn't called me yet, I know he will. He calls me every day even when I don't pick up.

There's a knock. No one will have the courage to face me right now. Everyone knows I'm in a bad mood and won't hesitate to bite their head off.

I fling open the door, ready to yell, but the sight of Hope stops me.

She's wearing the same dress. White summer dress with strawberries on it. It fits her tall, skinny figure perfectly and ends a few centimeters below her knees leaving her long legs exposed. She's wearing sandals, earrings, and her bracelets.

She looks beautiful. Just like she did when she stepped out of the bookstore and stole my breath away. She was everything my eyes wanted to see, and so did my heart.

Hope blushes and her eyes wander all over my upper body. I look down and realize I'm half-naked.

I clear my throat, and she meets my eyes.

"What are you doing here?" My temper gets the best of me.

Hope doesn't look offended. After my afternoon outburst, I can't fathom how she's here. I made her cry, for fuck's sake. I feel awful about it. It's why I've decided I should stay away from her. I want to hurt a lot of people, but she's not one of them. Intentionally or unintentionally, I never want to be the person who makes her cry. For fuck's sake, when she cries it's like acid seeps into my skin and burns me.

"I thought you might need some help," she says.

She doesn't give up.

"I don't need help. I'm fine." Turning around, I walk back into the bathroom, not expecting her to follow me. I can't be alone in peace even on my birthday. Who the fuck did I piss off?

"You should go," I say, leaning against the sink and folding my arms over my chest.

"I will after I clean your wounds."

"You're stubborn."

Hope doesn't reply. Instead, she looks through the cabinets until she finds the first aid kit.

Grabbing a ball of cotton, she stands in front of me and looks up at me expectantly. "I can't reach you."

"I don't want you to reach me."

Lifting on her tiptoes she steps closer. My body turns hot, and my arms drop from my chest as I stare at her in surprise.

The cotton ball presses against my split lip that aches like shit. But with Hope standing so close I can barely focus on the twinge of pain. All I can think about is how extraordinary her brown eyes are and how much I like them.

Her adamant gaze hits me as she says, "I will always reach you because you'd do the same for me."

"No, I won't."

Hope smiles. "Liar."

"That's the truth."

"You're right. It must be. I don't know you."

The slash of her words makes me grimace, reminding me of how I behaved earlier.

"You do know me," I whisper.

"Then why did you tell me otherwise?"

"Because I'm a fucking asshole."

She bites her lower lip to hide her smile.

Dabbing off the blood on my lip she patches up my knuckles and bruises. Once she's done she takes a bit of cream and applies it to my lip. The way her finger touches my lip makes heat crawl across my chest and travel downwards.

When she keeps rubbing it I know I can't fucking take it anymore. The girl is giving me a fucking boner.

I attempt to move away but in doing so I make her lose balance and she falls on me. Our fronts press together, and she holds my biceps for support. With a groan I tilt my head down, only to see her looking up at me.

Brown eyes. So fucking perfect.

My gaze drops to her lips. Pink full lips with a delicate cupid bow.

"I'm sorry," she whispers and tries to step back, but my arm circles around her waist and keeps her close to me.

I don't want her to go. For this moment she's managed to quieten my thoughts.

Using my other hand I brush away the loose strands of her hair that fall on the sides of her face. Her beautiful, sweet face. When I first saw it I thought she was pretty, but she's much more than pretty. She's beautiful, selfless, kind, considerate, and the sweetest person I've ever met. It's not just her beauty that attracts me to her, it's those other things too.

I look at her lips, fighting everything in me to not press mine against hers and see if she tastes as sweet as herself.

I bet she does.

Very slowly, I lean down, adamant to kiss her but I stop when I'm a few centimeters away. I feel shallow breaths leaving her mouth and her body stiffening in my arms. I search her eyes, but they're closed as if she's blocking out what's about to happen.

My heart dives straight into the pit of my stomach and dread fills me.

Hope is terrified.

I don't know what or who. She's willing to act like it's a passing thing rather than live in the moment. It's now how I want our first kiss to be.

I touch her lower back, and she jumps. Wide eyes and a face as white as a sheet stare back at me.

We stare at each other until she frees herself and runs out of the bathroom.

I grab a shirt and put it on as I follow her.

She stands beside the window holding herself in her arms and looking at the same view I do every night.

"Hope—"

"Have you forgotten about today? Especially after the way you treated me. You hurt me with your words and those mean glares you send to everyone else. I shouldn't even be talking to you after the way you made me feel. It feels awful."

I stay rooted in my spot after hearing those words. I hurt her. That realization hurts me more than anything ever has. Those punches Sebastian landed on me feel deserving now. Maybe he should've done more, because I fucked up royally.

Hope continues when I stay silent in guilt. "I know it's hard for you—"

"You have no idea," I whisper and sit down on my bed.

She sits beside me. Her beautiful eyes stay glued to my face as I gaze at the floor trying to push the words out of my mouth, but they feel too heavy.

My throat tightens and my mouth dries up.

Finally, I feel the weight of today pressing down on me, and it rips my fucking breath away. My lungs go empty with air, and I struggle to breathe.

Fuck. It can't be happening here. Not in front of her.

I clench my hands that rest in my lap, but really, nothing helps.

"I…" I start, hoping I'll be able to talk to her, but what comes out is a raspy sound.

What is fucking wrong with me?

I need to get my shit together.

A warm hand lays on top of mine. I look down and realize that my hands are shaking.

"It's okay. I'm here for you," Hope says in her sweet voice that manages to slither through the haze I'm stuck in.

Her other hand goes to the back of my head, and her fingers play with my hair.

"Just breathe." She encourages me in a soft voice.

Fuck.

Fuck!

FUCK!

Why am I having a mental breakdown right in front of her? I've never let anyone see me like this, except for Sebastian. If he weren't helping me all those times when I was on the floor heaving for air, I wouldn't have made it this far.

He's my best friend, but Hope has become more.

"I'm fine," I wheeze out.

Turning my head, I look at her, and fuck, she's a sight to behold.

I remember that day so clearly, the moment I collided with her. Her brown eyes and bony face blinded me with how beautiful they were. I was thinking, how had I missed seeing a face like hers in school? How had I not seen her before?

Distracted, because I can't look away from her, I feel her open my fist and intertwine our fingers. She gives it a gentle squeeze. "I see you like you see me. You don't need to hide from me."

She adds, "Now, take a deep breath and let it out slowly."

I do as she says—that's how it is with us, she tells me things and I just fucking do them.

Inhaling a deep breath, I keep it inside, then let out in small breaths.

"Again."

I do it again, again and again, until I can finally breathe. My lungs relax and my chest unfurls from whatever ropes it's bound with.

I'm free.

But my head feels heavy. Without thinking, I lean my head over her shoulder and sigh.

Hope stiffens. I hear her breath hitch. She also stops playing with my hair and for some odd reason, it fucking annoys me.

"Don't stop," I murmur weakly.

She resumes playing—or whatever it is she's doing—and I close my eyes. "Better?"

"So much fucking better."

After a few minutes she says, "You get panic attacks too."

"Quite often."

Her hand stops. "What do you do, then?"

"Don't stop and I'll fucking tell you."

She laughs and continues doing those finger-movements she does. I relax more. Being this close to her I can smell her lavender scent that drives me fucking crazy. Out of all the things in the world, a flowery scent is my demise. Who would've fucking thought?

"Usually Sebastian helps me, but if he's not here, then I pass out or—"

"You pass out?" She holds my hand so tightly, it hurts. I don't think she's aware that she's cutting off my blood supply.

I look up at her and she looks down at me. Her face is so fucking close. I can easily kiss—

After that last attempt, I need to make a plan. Spontaneity won't work on this one. I need to prepare her beforehand, which I don't mind one bit.

I want to kiss her. I really want to kiss her.

"Heath, tell me!" There's urgency in her voice that pulls my complete attention.

"Yes. I pass out. Like you were about to in that alleyway, remember?"

She gives me a weak nod. "I'm sorry that it happens to you."

"It's life."

She doesn't say anything. I decide it is best to tell her now why I acted like a dick.

"Last year I spent my birthday sitting at her grave. The one before it was in the hospital by her bed. Emery always made a big deal of my birthday, but I haven't celebrated my last two birthdays. Now it's become a habit. In countless ways today is associated with her. I can't get her out of my fucking head. A grave visit does nothing to make me feel less lonely or less…"

"Sad."

She looks down at me, knowing she's right.

"Yes."

"I don't think you're damaged, but I think you're broken."

The muscles in my body strain in denial. "I'm not—"

She stares at me with a grave expression that shuts me up. "Emery's death broke some part of you. It hurts you deeply, but you refuse to admit it."

"That's fucking bullshit," I grit out.

"Or maybe I can see right through you."

I roll my eyes. "Since when did you get annoying?"

A smile kisses her lips. "Since we became friends."

"You're good at this friendship thing."

"Really?"

"Yes," I say in a heartbeat.

Hope blushes and my heart rapidly beats inside my chest. I'm starting to notice it does that a lot in her presence.

She clears her throat. "We should go down. Marie got a cake for you."

"I should just stay here."

"It has chocolate," she chirps excitedly.

"I hate chocolate."

"Maybe you'll like it."

"Very fucking unlikely."

"It's sweet."

"I hate sweet things."

"You haven't found the right sweet thing."

I glare. "You're fucking impossible."

She grins.

Lifting my head from her shoulder, I stretch to loosen my tight muscles. In doing so, I notice Hope's attention on me, and it makes me smirk. "See something you like?"

"I…" she falters.

Those fucking red cheeks make me chuckle.

"You're fucking adorable," I say without thinking.

We both stare at each other in surprise, but I won't fucking take it back.

I meant what I said.

Together we enter the living room where Marie and Sebastian are bickering over something. When they see us, they grin like hyenas.

"Finally! You guys are here," Marie says.

Sebastian gets up and comes my way. He looks as bad as me which makes me smile a little. He returns it.

Marie brings in my cake with a beaming smile. She reminds me of Emery in that regard, and I realize why I care about her. In some ways, she's like a younger sister to me.

Picking up the knife, I cut the cake and the three of them eat it, but I don't, because I don't like chocolate. Also, I'll have to work extra hard to lose those calories.

Sebastian doesn't have a care in the world as he munches on the cake like a starved man. Great. Now he's also becoming a chocolate addict.

"You want some?" Hope asks with a bit of chocolate on the side of her mouth.

"No."

"Try it." She advances the plate toward me, but I have something else in mind.

I lick my thumb and graze it over the chocolate mark, slowly getting it off. Pulling back, I taste the chocolate off my thumb and for once I don't mind the sweet taste.

Hope watches me with an innocent gaze that tightens the knots in my stomach. Her mouth parts making me want to kiss her.

Fucking hell . For the past hour, all I can think about is kissing her.

"I think I like it," I say.

"Yo-you do-do?" Her gaze drops to my mouth for a second.

"Mhm."

Her throat moves delicately and fuck I want nothing more than to touch her and kiss her—

What the fuck am I thinking? She's my friend. She trusts me. I can't fucking do it.

To distract myself, I look over at the obnoxious couple. They're dozing off, cuddled in each other's arms. An imposing sleepover again I guess.

Hope and I clean up while Sebastian and Marie get some rest. We're in the kitchen washing dishes—despite Kelly asking to do it, Hope gets her to agree to let us do it.

"Did you open my present?"

She got me a present.

"No." I dry the last plate and put it in the cabinet above.

"Oh." Her facial expressions turn dull.

It fucking bothers me. "Give it to me."

She closes the tap and dries her hands with a washcloth, then faces me. "It's in your car."

What? When did she put it there?

I leave the room in a hurry and Hope follows me.

Reaching my garage, I unlock my car. A small blue box sits on the dashboard. It's covered in a simple white ribbon with a little note on the top.

Happy birthday, Heath.

– Hope

I untie the ribbon and open the box. A simple black bracelet is inside.

Taking it out, I move around the beads with my thumb. A blissful feeling erupts in the center of my chest.

I know how much effort it takes for her to make bracelets. I've seen it. Fuck, I've even helped her. She spends hours on it to make it perfect.

The fact she did it for me is what has my blood rushing through my veins.

"Do you like it?" Hope asks, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

I nod. I can barely find my voice as emotions climb up my throat.

"Can I put it on?" Her fingers are restless as they fidget with each other, but she's plucking courage for me. She wants to do it.

"I bet you won't take no for an answer," I drawl out in a dry voice.

With a smile, she takes the bracelet from me and steps closer. Gently she ties the thing around my left wrist. "It looks cute on you."

Cute . That's the last thing I want to be interpreted as. But the way she lights up at the sight of her bracelet on me, I don't even care about it.

"Thank you," I mutter, avoiding her stare.

"You're welcome."

The longer I stare at her, the more the heat swirls inside of me. My veins surge with warmth and lust.

My self-restraint weakens when I remember how the chocolate tasted off of her. I bet it'd be a hundred times better if it were her mouth. Her gorgeous, alluring mouth that's making me lose my mind.

Hope is unaware of the chaos she's havocking inside of me.

If she knew my thoughts she wouldn't be standing here alone with me.

I'm about to step closer to her and hold her when her phone buzzes. Whatever's on the screen turns her face pale, and her posture goes rigid.

"I need to go home." Without waiting she makes a run for the door, but I run after her and catch her wrist.

When she looks back I can sense her fear more than I can see it in her eyes. Her pulse is going crazy under her flesh, and her skin starts to get cold.

"I'll drive you."

"No!" She blanches, trying to free herself.

I gently pull her to me. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she says immediately.

I want to push her on the matter, but she beats me to it.

"I need to go home now."

Like always I toss away the conversation and comply with her request.

Ten minutes later we're near her house. My body is stiff with tension.

Something is terribly wrong in that house. I know it deep in my bones. But I don't know how to figure it out.

The reason why I became friends with Hope was to help her, but I seem to suck at it. Instead, I'm catching feelings for her. She's all I can focus on. In school, at home, at the gym, and in the middle of a fucking match. Her eyes and face are all I fantasize about—among other very explicit things.

She's wearing a dress that has a favorable neckline, giving a sneak peek at her cleavage. The material curves generously around her small breasts.

"So…" Hope starts, fidgeting with her fingers.

I arch an eyebrow.

"Was it a good day for you?"

"It was." I don't have to lie. Even though I didn't participate in the arcade and acted like an asshole. Watching her smile and laugh made me content.

She hesitantly nods her head.

I feel awful. "It was better than any other day I've had."

"You disagreed earlier."

I almost smile at her attempt to set me straight.

Leaning over the console, I whisper, "I was being an idiot."

"A big one."

"Oh yeah?"

She nods.

"I'm sorry," I say sincerely. When she doesn't say anything I feel even worse.

Running a hand through my hair I blurt out. "I'm really fucking sorry for the words I said to you and the way I acted toward you. It was a dick move and I feel terrible. I hurt a lot of people, and I don't care about half of them, but you are not one of them. You'll never be. I never want to fucking hurt you. Like ever." Taking a deep breath I continue, "All the things I said today, I didn't mean them when I didn't even try to have fun with you. You planned a day for me, and I turned it into shit. For that, I'm sorry, so fucking sorry."

Three heartbeats later she wraps her arms around my neck. I place my palm over her back and keep it there.

"I'll make it up to you."

"You don't have to."

"I will."

That night she leaves without saying goodbye.