2. Macie

Chapter two

Macie

B efore walking out the door to the school, I made sure Ariel was in the parking lot. No way in hell I was leaving the building without someone I knew nearby. Of course, my best friend was there like she had promised. Seeing me peek out the door, she gave a wave. Ignoring the nauseating slithering of snakes in my stomach, I went out, paused, and did a head swivel to take in my surroundings. I studied the people in the waiting cars and decided most of them looked like haggard parents tired of waiting on their kids, so I headed for my ride.

My best friend, the closest person I had to a sister, Ariel Walker straightened from leaning against her rebuilt 1994 Mustang. She held her arms out wide, an indication we'd be hugging whether I wanted to or not. Her long blond hair hung from a ponytail at the top of her head, and she wore a blue, spaghetti-strapped, mid-thigh summer dress to match the raging June heat.

My left shoulder ached as I accepted the hug. She embraced me longer than normal, something she had done since February. Sort of like she needed to make sure I was still real. I understood. Sometimes I didn't feel real to myself anymore.

Letting me go, Ariel gave me her enthusiastic, personal cheerleader smile. "How did therapy go?" My best friend exuded confidence like no one else in the universe.

"I have once again found a way to be a disappointment to my parents."

Ariel smooshed her lips to the side and returned to leaning against her car. "You're not capable of being a disappointment to anyone, least of all your parents."

I shrugged because I had no idea how to explain a single thought or emotion inside me. There were plenty of emotions, but they were all shoved deep down into a place that I couldn't reach no matter how hard I tried. So, I resorted to my favorite go-to coping mechanism since February: deflection. "Are you ready for your trip?"

Excitement lit her eyes, but then guilt darkened them. "I've been thinking."

"Sounds dangerous."

"Har, har," she quipped. "Anyway, I was talking to Mom and Dad, and I don't have to go to Europe this summer. We all think Grandma and Gramps would be more than happy to take me next year instead and—"

"You're going," I cut her off. "You're going, and I demand a postcard from every single place you visit. And if you don't go, I will no longer be your best friend."

While Ariel resembled her mom with golden blond hair, delicate nose, and soft features, she had her father's severe gray eyes that, with their gaze, conveyed how the millions of thoughts bouncing in her brain should be taken seriously. "I'm worried about you."

Deflated, I leaned back against her car. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. It's not your fault."

Sort of was. I was the one who found it literally impossible to speak in therapy or to speak at all about what happened in February, and I absolutely hated it. I hated how this impenetrable wall that surrounded me in regard to that night pushed me into becoming a shell of who I used to be. "I'm serious about the postcards. I will throw a fit."

I wouldn't, but I didn't want to discuss me and my problems. Ariel gave me a half-hearted smile and nudged my shoulder with hers. "Fine, be all bossy like that."

"Fine," I teased back. "I will."

"Ready to go home?"

Was I looking forward to going home to my tragically hopeful parents and informing them I had failed to participate in therapy again and then watched as they tried to keep an upbeat attitude even though I was breaking their hearts? Nope.

Accepting my silence as an answer, Ariel and I watched as the other members of my therapy group walked toward their awaiting rides. Everyone but Relic. He stood near the front doors of our school, looking bored while Zuri chatted at him.

"You didn't tell me Relic Aslanov was in your group therapy."

No, I didn't. We had all signed papers and agreed we wouldn't divulge group therapy with anyone. Sort of like the rules of an AA meeting. Did I trust that everyone else would keep the deal? No, but all I could control was me. At least that was what Mom and three of my therapists said.

"That kid is super trouble," Ariel said, "but you have to admit he's super hot, too."

Relic was definitely super hot. Every girl was scared to look at him longer than a few seconds because if they did, they might burst into flames.

He was this weird mismatch between a California surfer dude and a biker belonging to an outlaw motorcycle club. He had this mess of brilliant blond hair that looked two months overdue for a cut, electrifying blue eyes, a clean-shaven face, a lean, toned body, and this aggravatingly carefree attitude like nothing ever bothered him. If that were the case, I was jealous to the point of hating him.

Dressed in baggy jeans and a white T-shirt that stretched tight across his chest, he was beautiful to look at, and while that beauty drew me in, instinct told me to give him a wide berth. Like, cross the street and run wide berth.

His entire aura screamed trouble, like he was comfortable in situations that would make most people cower in fear. Underneath the jokes and comebacks was an undertow of rawness, a wildness that separated him from my world. My life was neat and tidy, but Relic—I had a feeling Relic's world was rooted in chaos and anarchy.

"When he shows and decides to let loose," said Ariel, "which isn't very often on either account, Relic's fun at a party." She gave me her wild side grin. While she loved playing the good girl at school and at home, Ariel had developed a feral side to her personality around the age of six, and she'd been secretly nurturing it ever since. Neither of our sets of parents were aware of her after-hour activities, and if they ever found out, they'd probably lock her up in a convent until she turned fifty-two. Did I participate in that part of her life? Nope. We were best friends, sisters of the soul, but that didn't mean we had to do everything together. We were allowed separate lives.

"Have you kissed him?" I asked out of curiosity, not judgement. Ariel loved kissing, and she loved kissing people she had just met.

"I wish. I bet he's a great kisser."

So incorrigible, and I loved every ounce of Ariel. "I want to be you when I grow up."

"That's okay. Everyone does."

Relic broke away from Zuri and walked in an easy, unhurried stride for the road. I nibbled on my lower lip. I didn't want to fracture any type of don't-talk group therapy rule, but I wasn't the one driving. "I'd like to offer Relic a ride home."

Ariel cocked an eyebrow. So, yeah, I hadn't volunteered to have much interaction with anyone since February. Before February, was I an introvert? Not by any stretch of the imagination. Before February, I had lots of friends, had plans on weekends, belonged to a ton of clubs where I typically held a leadership position because I loved to be in charge, and I'd held a coveted spot on the varsity volleyball team, too. Ariel and I even went out on a few double dates—double dating because my dad was overprotective when it came to me and boys. Point was, I'd had a life. A fun life. A full life. Now, I preferred the safety of my room over social interaction because February taught me the human race sucked.

"Aslanov," Ariel called.

He swung his head in our direction.

"You want a ride?" Ariel asked, as if she could care less if he accepted.

His gaze darted to me, to Ariel, and then back to me. He had an intense stare, and good lord, he had a beautiful face. Like a stunning runway model with eyes straight from heaven. But that stare told me he had seen way more of the world than I had. The good, the bad, and the wild. I wasn't the type of girl to look away shyly before February, and I had no intention of being her now.

After another second or two, he said, "Sure."

As he approached the car, Ariel said, "Macie gets the front." With her Mustang only having two doors, she opened her door, slid her seat forward, and it was comical to watch the tall guy crouch to fit into the back, but he made it without complaining.

Ariel glanced in her rearview mirror. "Where do you live?"

"Do you know the neighborhood market near Beckley?" Relic answered in that deep voice of his.

"Yep. It's a half-mile from where we live."

"You two live in Beckley Woods then?" He said the name of my neighborhood as though it created a vile taste in his mouth, and it felt like a slap in the face. It wasn't the gated neighborhood Ariel's grandparents lived in, but it was definitely one of the nicer ones in the city. Nice size plots, custom-built houses, not a single one looking the same.

"Yes, we do," Ariel answered proudly. "We're next-door neighbors. Since birth. Macie and I are basically identical twins except for the genetics thing."

"I can't believe anyone would make the mistake you aren't twins. You two look exactly alike."

"Right? Shockingly even."

"Just take me to the market."

"Will do." Ariel started her car, the Jonas Brothers blared from her speakers, and Relic groaned. Ariel laughed as she must have heard it, too, then gave me a wink as she turned up the volume and sang along.

Once upon a time, I also used to sing along. I used to love being in the car. Loved the feeling of freedom that came with being on the road. Loved the control of pushing the gas or hitting the brake. Loved choosing the music and getting lost in the drive. I used to even love being the passenger in Ariel's car and the party that happened as we sang and danced to our favorite songs. But now, a thick cord of apprehension strangled me. Every time we stopped at a light, I looked to the right, to the left, to the side mirror, and even turned to look out the back to catch anyone approaching.

At the third stoplight, I turned again to look behind just as a pause happened between songs. Relic met my eyes and said, "You're friends with Gianna, right?"

Not sure if he was asking me or Ariel, I glanced at my best friend. She had a smirk on her face and stared straight ahead like she hadn't heard the question.

"Yes," I answered. Besides Ariel, Gianna was my closest friend. Since sixth grade, we'd had the same classes, belonged to the same clubs, and had played volleyball together. Plus, we hung out together the most on the weekends. Things have felt strained since what happened, though, as if she no longer knew what to say and neither did I.

"There's a party at Brayden Gentry's house tomorrow night," Relic continued. "You going with her?"

"Are we talking the same Gianna?" The same girl who had a meltdown when someone spilled soda during a sleepover in eighth grade? "Volleyball Gianna? And are we talking the same type of party?" I assumed not the watching movies and eating pizza type.

"Same one," Ariel confirmed as the light turned green and she seamlessly shifted gears. "She told you she's now dating Brayden Gentry."

They began dating a month ago. "What's that have to do with her going to a party?" I asked. Not that there was a problem with a party, but it seemed out of character for the girl I knew four months ago.

"She's changed." The heavy way Ariel said "changed" told me more than that simple statement. My stomach bottomed out.

Guess I wasn't the only one who had changed, and I didn't know if that was good or bad. Gianna and I were two peas in a pod. A good time for us included chilling with friends, listening to music, watching movies, or going ice skating or bowling. She used to also turn her nose up to Brayden Gentry, saying she thought he was a jerk, but that had obviously changed, too.

"Not that I didn't enjoy listening to that current event catch up," said Relic, "but you didn't answer if you're going."

"I'm not," Ariel replied. "I'm leaving for Europe tomorrow."

"I hate it when my plans for Paris get in the way of a party."

Ariel smiled, as nothing ever rattled her. "Right?" She slowed as we approached the neighborhood market. "Where do I go from here?"

"Drop me off in the parking lot."

Ariel pulled in, placed the car in Park, then exited to let him out. After Relic slid out, he rested his hand on the top of the car, leaned his head in, and my heart stuttered when his breathtaking blue eyes met mine. "Thanks for the ride."

"Ariel was the one who offered and drove."

"Yeah, but the ride was all you. Come to Brayden's tomorrow night." He had a smooth voice, a convincing one, and he spoke as if he really wanted me to be there just for him. "First beer will be on me."

He left without waiting for an answer, and Ariel's ear-to-ear smile was so full of spice I nearly choked on it. "I do believe you were just asked out, Macie Hutchins."

"No, I wasn't. He's being polite."

"Relic doesn't know what polite is. In fact, I don't think he's ever heard the word before. He knows when he's hungry, he knows when he wants to eat, and I think he'd like you as a snack. I may be going to Europe, but it sounds like you're the one who's going to have the summer of a lifetime."

"Summer of a lifetime," I scoffed.

"You have decisions to make. Relic only goes to parties to make out with girls, and he specifically asked you to be his date."

"I'm not the girl who goes to parties, and I'm definitely not the girl who goes to parties to make out with boys."

"Why not?" Ariel challenged. My whole life, she's tried to push me out of my comfort zone. "You deserve some kissing. In fact, you deserve the entire universe."

I stared at the world passing us by. "What's it like?"

"Kissing?" Ariel asked for clarification.

"Yes."

"Like being the firework bursting in the clear sky on a hot July night. Especially those first few seconds of hesitation before a kiss. Where the expectation and gravitational pull makes you so aware of yourself. Of your skin over your muscles, of how your clothing whispers against your skin, of the way your heart thunders in your chest. Kissing is such a high, Macie, and I bet Relic's the best kisser. If you want a phenomenal first kiss, he'd be the one to share it with."