16

Asher

Age 17

Day one hundred and forty-seven.

That’s how long it’s been since Blair fell.

That’s also how long she’s gone without speaking to me.

I’ve tried to fill the void since losing her—drinking, partying, anything to numb the pain. I steer clear of other girls. I don’t give a shit about any of them, so it’s easy enough. Deep down, I still believe that one day, Blair will show up at my door, ready to tell me she’s better. Her ankle is healed, her mind is healed.

But it doesn’t happen. Not yet.

“Two hundred bucks for the lot,” I say, holding up the baggy of pills.

Mackenzie squints at it. Yeah, I’m overcharging her. Preppy girls like her have no idea what a bag of pills should cost, and she has money to burn.

For about a year now, I’ve been selling drugs to other high school kids. I don’t know if Blair ever knew. I used to tell her everything, but there were some things I thought were better kept from her. Just for her own good. I’m careful, but if I ever got caught, I wouldn’t want her to know.

Part of me was scared she wouldn’t understand. Blair has never wanted for anything. If I weren’t selling these little baggies, I’d have no way to pay the bills and look after my grandma.

Mackenzie clacks her manicured nails against her phone screen. “Two hundred? It was one fifty last time.”

My gaze travels past her. My stomach burns like I’ve just downed a shot of acid.

Blair.

She’s standing in a small circle of people across the room, looking pale, not smiling.

Shit, I shouldn’t care about her well-being anymore, right? I tried for months to reach her. She must blame me for the accident because she never answered a single call or text. I did other shit, too. Walked past her house at night more times than I can count.

“Staring at Blair, huh?” Mackenzie’s smug voice pulls me back to the moment. She looks like she’s caught me doing something illegal—well, aside from selling her pills.

I shrug. “Blair? Nope.”

She rolls her eyes. “You don’t have to act all secretive. I know you and Blair used to hang out sometimes.”

My jaw clenches. If she knows that much, why not dig a little deeper?

“I thought Blair was staying home after the,” I reply. “After the… accident.”

I leave it vague, uncertain how much this annoying-as-fuck girl knows about that night. I have no clue if she knows I was there when Blair fell.

“Yeah, well,” Mackenzie replies dryly. “She got better.”

I would’ve kept calling for the rest of my life if I thought there was a chance. In fact, I still haven’t given up on her. I’m just biding my time. She needs space; fine. I knew I’d just get her into even deeper shit with her parents if I turned up at her house. We promised forever. I can give her a few months when we have eternity ahead of us.

But seeing Blair out in the world again feels wrong. If she’s okay being out with Mackenzie and her preppy cronies again, why hasn’t she called me?

That’s when I spot him—a guy standing next to Blair in the circle. Tall, neatly cut brown hair, wearing a quarter-zip like one of those jock assholes.

He laughs at something, then drapes his arm around her, pulling her close. She doesn’t lean into him, but she doesn’t push him away, either.

“Who’s that?” I mutter, nodding toward him.

Mackenzie’s eyes gleam with satisfaction. “Oh, you don’t know?”

“No.”

“That’s Blair’s boyfriend,” she says casually.

The word hits me like a freight train, but I force my expression to remain still.

“Boyfriend?”

“Yeah. They’ve been dating for a while now.” She purses her lips, staring me down. “He’s had a crush on her for years. A real sweetheart. I’m just glad she lost her V-card to such a nice guy.”

I grit my teeth so hard I think my jaw might shatter. “She’s fucking him?”

Mackenzie giggles. “Are you jealous?”

I shrug, trying to laugh it off, even though my throat feels dry. “I don’t give a shit about which asshole jock any of you spoiled little rich girls are fucking. Just give me my money.”

She does that shrill giggle again, before counting out the money and holding it out.

I snatch the bills, shoving them into my jacket pocket. “I’d say pleasure doing business, but it fucking wasn’t.”

“I’ll tell Blair you say hi,” she coos over her shoulder as she walks away.

“Don’t bother,” I yell after her. “She’s just another spoiled, stuck-up brat.”

Rage boils inside me, a dark tide rising.

I thought Blair just needed space, but now it’s clear: she needed space from me . Permanent fucking space.

She used me while I was fun, then discarded me for some rich football-playing asshole from her own world. Without a goddamn goodbye.

I thought Blair was different from the word she grew up in, but I see the truth now. We can’t escape the worlds that shape us, and Blair and I are stained by our pasts. She was always going to be the rich brat who dropped me because I’m like the dirt I grew up in. I’m the madness that grew like mold in my mother’s mind. I’m my father walking out without a second glance.

I’m this dark, twisted thing inside me that makes me want to risk it all just for a fucking thrill.

Blair dipped one finger into my world, then washed her hands of it, like it never happened.

I’m done.

If she thinks she can just move on, leaving me behind like a fading echo, she’s mistaken. I’ll bury this hurt and walk away. She can have her perfect life with him.

I’m finished waiting for her to realize what she’s lost.

Let her play pretend. I won’t be her shadow any longer.