“But it hurts,” I argued, my voice shaking. “So bad.”
Mom cupped my face with her hands. “So use the pain.”
It was the same exact thing Gabe had said to me when we’d gotten into our second argument. What did that even mean? Use the pain?
“I don’t understand,” I mumbled.
“Don’t let pain keep you from moving forward. It shouldn’t stop your progress — it should drive it.”
I sighed and started picking at the blanket in front of me. “When did you get so wise?”
She smiled fondly. “I had a patient once.” Her eyes glazed over a bit. “The odds were against him in every way possible. I was in the room after his MRI. It broke my heart to see such a promising young man have his future stolen from him. And then the strangest thing happened. When I went to the door to leave — it was locked. I turned the knob and heard footsteps, and after the footsteps I heard him talking to someone. It was a lady. She had a beautiful voice, but it wasn’t her voice that struck me, it was the words.
“She said, ‘Sometimes when we think God has written the end, what he really means is the beginning.’” Mom wiped a stray tear from her eyes. “It’s haunted me, that phrase. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and still hear that woman’s voice.”
Mom licked her lips and gripped my hands. “How often do you think we write our own ending before the story is even finished? How often do we give up on ourselves when our lives are just starting? Things get hard and we immediately back away and assume that means we’re going in the wrong direction, doing the wrong thing. If anything, when the waters get thick, that’s our sign to keep going.”
“So you’re saying it’s not the end,” I whispered.
“It rarely is,” Mom replied.
We sat I in silence for a bit until the clock chimed. It was one a.m.
“Mom?”
“Hmm?”
“How long were you trapped in that room, anyways?”
I couldn’t read her face. She shifted in her seat and answered, “I wasn’t. Once I overheard that conversation, I tried the door and it wasn’t locked anymore. When I told the janitor, he said I must have been confused. That door doesn’t have a lock. It never did.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
I looked at the three masks I wore and realized something — they were all monsters of my own making. I did this. Nobody else. It was my choice. And I had chosen wrong. —Gabe H.
Gabe
“You ready?” Wes asked for the tenth time.
“Just do it already,” I grumbled leaning my head into the shower as he started rinsing the black out.
“So this is a fun bonding experience.” Wes laughed and started whistling.
“Please don’t whistle,” I grumbled. “Do anything but whistle.”
Wes started to hum one of the songs from my first albums.
“Freaking hilarious.”
“I thought so.” He continued humming.
“Just—” I tensed my hands against my knees as I leaned farther in. The black swirled into the drain as if my sins were getting washed out right along with my hair. “Just don’t do anything.”
“Gabe…” Wes dunked my head farther under the warm water. “You’re doing the right thing.”
“Yeah, that’s what you keep saying.”
“It’s true.”
“How do we know this doesn’t backfire and shoot me in the ass?”
“We don’t.”
“Imagine, there was once a time I thought you should be a therapist. Do you want me to kill myself?”
Wes laughed, pissing me off more. “Sorry, man, but think of it this way. The worst has happened and you’re still alive.”
“I—”
Holy hell he was right. The worst had happened. My dad knew where Lisa and I were. He was going to expose us. He knew about Kimmy, and Saylor hated me. My life was over, but I was alive.
“I can literally hear your brain frying right now.”
“Shut up.”
Wes turned off the water and threw a towel over my head, using a little bit too much aggression as he did so. The ass.
When I turned around he brandished a pair of scissors in his hand and a smile I can only describe as way too eager.
“No.” I shook my head. “Hell, no.”
“Oh, come on.” He held the scissors up in the air and snipped. “Go big or go home.”
“No.”
“Afraid?” He tilted his head.
“Shit.” I wiped my face with my hands. “Maybe a little.”
“Try having cancer.” His eyes narrowed. “Now stop being a bitch and sit down.”
I shook my head. “Being healthy’s changed you.”
“No.” Wes gave me a sad smile. “Almost losing my best friend — that changed me.”
“Wes—”
“I know you’re sorry.” He cleared his throat. “But if you ever go to that dark place again, I’m following you and I can be annoying as hell. I think we both know that. So, sit down while I cut your hair. We’re doing this together.”
Giving in, I nodded. “Thanks, Wes. For… everything.” Because he’d stayed up for twelve hours — missing sleep, missing food, missing everything — to help me come up with a plan.
He’d said he owed me.
But in the end, I think I’d always owe him for everything he did, for everything he’d done, for everything he was still doing by just being Wes. Freaking. Michels.
Shit. I would not cry.
As pieces of hair fell in front of me, and the sound of snipping clamored in my ears, I felt the weight lifted. I stopped slumping. Instead of leaning forward, I sat up. Instead of feeling emptier and more horrified…
I felt… invigorated.
I was able to smile — because the pieces of hair on the floor weren’t black. They were golden blond.
When Wes was finished he handed me a mirror and slapped me on the back. “Welcome back to the land of the living, Ashton Hyde, nice to meet you.”
Chapter Forty
He was just a man. Just a very, very, very attractive and popular man. And I had kissed him. A lot. Funny, when I was sixteen I imagined what it would be like to kiss Ashton Hyde. Never in my lifetime did I think it would actually happen — or feel so right. —Saylor
Saylor
The sweet smell of my mom’s pancakes woke me from my fitful sleep. When I opened my eyes, the clock on the bedside table confirmed that I’d totally slept in. Grumbling, I rolled over and threw on a pair of ripped jeans and a white t-shirt. After eating my body weight in pancakes, I left her apartment and drove, as slow as humanly possible to the Home.
It was one of my Friday afternoons and as much as I didn’t want to face Gabe, I knew my mom was right. Besides, no way could I abandon everyone.
As luck would have it — no traffic.
Of course.
I don’t know what I expected when I pulled up to the Home, but everything seemed normal. As if a movie/pop star hadn’t just come out of hiding last night, as if Gabe and I were still friends.
As I got out of my car, I shivered. The air was thick with mist. The two security guards nodded at me and let me through.
Martha was at the front desk, a smile on her face. “Ah Saylor, how are you today?”
“Good.” I’d be lying if I said my eyes weren’t darting all over the place, looking for traces of Gabe.
“He’s already inside,” Martha answered, pulling my cell phone from my clenched hand. “And he’s waiting for you.”
I cleared my throat and suddenly found great interest in staring at the countertop. “Who?”
She laughed.
Was I that transparent?
Sighing, I walked, again, as slow as my legs would allow me while still moving, and opened the doors to the game room.
Greedily, I searched for Gabe.
But Gabe wasn’t who I found.
Because Gabe didn’t exist anymore.
My breat
h caught in my chest as Ashton freaking Hyde rose from his chair and moved toward me.
The only thing that was the same? The tattoos. No piercings. No dark hair.
He was wearing blue skinny jeans, brown boots, and a tight tan Henley that opened up revealing a few chest tattoos.
His hair was golden blond. The type you see on TV and swear isn’t real. The type that looks like dark spun gold.
“You came.” He sounded relieved.
“Yeah.” I couldn’t look at him in the eyes. Not now. Not knowing what he did to me, how he affected me. My heart might as well have been exposed for all to see — no doubt he heard it.
Gabe or Ashton, or whoever he was — I guess in my mind he was still Gabe — reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny bottle. It was the size of a keychain and made of glass.
“What’s this?”
Gabe smiled. That paired with his dark skin and bright eyes, I had to blink to keep my mouth from falling open. “Five tears. You’re right. How dare I cause more — when I don’t even fix the first ones that fell?”
Speechless I stared.
“A tear for a tear,” he whispered then shook the tiny bottle.
“You—”
“It was only fair.” His eyes fell to my mouth. “By my count that means I have three more to make up for. So you better prepare yourself.”
“Prepare myself?” I repeated, still in shock.
“Yeah.” He smiled again and started to walk away toward Princess. Then as if forgetting something, he turned and said simply, “I’m falling.”
“Huh?”
“I’m falling for you too. I haven’t fallen. Falling. As in still falling, still in the air, still trying to get used to the idea that I’ve just nosedived off a cliff with every intention of making sure the landing doesn’t break my fall.”
“And if it does?”
“Then at least I still jumped.”
My breath caught in my throat, my body responded to his words as if he’d physically picked me up and twirled me around the room and kissed me senseless.
“Alright, everyone, take your seats.” I clapped my hands four times.
They followed. Princess shouted. Normal. Everything felt normal.
“We’ve been at this over four weeks.” I looked around the room. “Last time we met, we worked on our own songs. Does anyone want to share?”
A few people volunteered. Each of them trying hard to sing the notes they’d colored on their papers. Even Princess shouted the notes Gabe had colored for her.
“Anyone else?” I looked around the room, most everyone was distracted by his or her own worksheet, looking at each other’s, whispering.
“I want to go,” Gabe’s voice pierced the air.
“Oh yes, Park!” Princess shouted. “Play a song! Play your song!”
Gabe’s smile was for her and only her as he bent over and kissed her forehead. I would have never recognized her. But it was Kimmy. Kimmy Paige. Eighteen-year-old starlet. I really honestly thought she’d died. She’d been in a coma for so long, the media had lost interest.
“Parker!” Princess shouted, excitement evident in her twinkling eyes as her gaze followed him to the piano bench.
The songs he sang. They were hers. Ashton had been famous for it. He would write love songs for her then upload them to YouTube. One time, he’d even filmed himself singing her to sleep.
Was it any wonder women everywhere about killed themselves when he disappeared?
Gabe sat at the piano looking like he’d been born there. His hands hovered over the keys. “A new song. For new beginnings.” He lifted his eyes just slightly and met my gaze. And then he began to play.
Transfixed, I watched him while he played — his eyes never left mine.
“How could I let a love go — one I’d been holding onto for so long — one that felt like home? It’s not easy to let go of the pieces, even though they’re the reason for my pain. I gripped them so hard that my blood fell like rain. But nothing, nothing could have prepared me for a new life with you — one I didn’t deserve, one I want to pursue.” He leaned over the piano, closing his eyes, as the music dipped. The song was both beautiful and haunting, his body was one with the piano, and in turn I felt like I was the piano. Like he was playing me, every stroke of the keys was him kissing my skin.
“If beauty is pain — let me get lost in it. If you’re my salvation — I want to earn it. If love is all I have to give — then let me give it. You. It’s all for you.”
Gabe’s eyes opened and locked in on mine.
“How can I prove that what I feel is real? You ask for truth I give you lies. You ask for joy I make you cry. But I don’t want to lose you. Not like this. Not when I’ve left your heart in such a mess. Give me one chance — I’m letting go of the past — but I need you here to know.”
“If beauty is pain — let me get lost in it. If you’re my salvation — I want to earn it. If love is all I have to give — then let me give it. You, it’s all for you.” He paused, hitting the last few notes, and the song ended.
Gabe’s smile lit up the room.
But I was frozen in place.
Me. He’d sung that to me.
I wiped a stray tear from my eye as Gabe approached me yet again. Was the man trying to kill me? I mean, there was only so much a girl could take.
His eyebrows drew together as he reached out and touched my wet cheek.
“It’s okay.” I whispered. “You earned it.”
“I want more songs!” Princess shouted breaking our moment.
I’d forgotten there were people all around us. Feeling my face heat, I sighed and walked back to the front of the room. “Alright, today we’re going to work on adding to the songs we created last time. Use four different notes and I want you to add a chorus.”
I walked from table to table helping.
When I reached Princess and Gabe, she was sleeping, which was weird to say the least. She never slept. I was beginning to think tired wasn’t even a word in her vocabulary. Then again, recently, she’d been mentioning it more and more.
“Is she okay?” I asked, my eyebrows drawing together in concern.
Gabe looked up from his chair and sighed, shoulders hunched he said quietly, “The infection is getting worse.”
I pulled a chair next to him and sat, without realizing I’d done it. I grabbed his hand and squeezed. “She’s strong. It will be okay.”
“Yeah.” He squeezed back and smiled. “It really will.”
Chapter Forty-One
Watching your best friend smile when he looks in the mirror? No words. Just. None. —Wes M.
Gabe
“Wear the dark jeans.”
“Do you mind?” I snapped.
Wes held up his hands. “All I’m saying is they hug your ass and if you’re still tiptoeing around Saylor, it couldn’t hurt.”
“Remind me again why you’re here?”
“Best friend.” Wes pointed at himself and smirked. “Besides, it was either me or Lisa, and we both know how she is when people go on dates.”
“Good point,” I grumbled.
Lisa and Kiersten were spending the evening together. Kiersten wanted answers, and Lisa owed her some. Besides, it wasn’t my truth to tell, not by a long shot and I had my own demons to face — no chance in hell was I going to try to tackle all things Lisa as well.
I sighed. It seemed like we all needed our own night of truth. Yay. Hold me back while I pump my fist into the air and dance a little jig.
I’d met with my father earlier that morning before I went to the Home. His demand was simple.
Go with him to the media.
Or he’d expose me, as well as Lisa and Princess.
I told him to go to hell.
His way meant I had no control — my way meant that at least in the end I could control how everyone found out. The only issue was that Princess had no idea and was going to have to blindly trust me. And Lisa? Well, her family had always
known where she was.
Because unlike me, she wasn’t hiding from her family or from the media, not really.
She was hiding from Him.
With Wes’s support I called every freaking news station in the area offering them the story. Let them fight over the exclusive — in the end it would be my choice.
The only catch? I didn’t want to be interviewed, not yet, and I didn’t want to bring Princess into it. I hoped it was a bit like calling my dad’s bluff — I’d show him I’m not afraid to go to the media myself, and he’d walk away.
He still hadn’t returned my phone call.
So now it was a game of chicken.
Either way. The truth was going to come out — Wes was right about that. But at least this time, when I thought about that ticking time bomb, I was clipping at the wires. I wasn’t just staring at it waiting for it to scare the shit out of me. Funny, how all it takes is a different perspective for you to snap out of a fearful situation and empower yourself.
Awesome.
Now I sounded like Wes.
The walking Hallmark card.
And shoot me now.
“Dude, the jeans don’t look that bad,” Wes scoffed. “Stop being so dramatic. Damn actors.”
I pulled the trigger and mouthed poof right in Wes’s face and smirked. His response was to tilt his head to the right, feel my forehead, and then smack me on the cheek Godfather style.
“I think you’re more fun to irritate when you have light hair.”
“Hilarious.” I threw on a black t-shirt and grabbed my keys.
“Gabe—”
“What?” We’d decided it would be weird for him to call me anything else. I was so damn relieved he didn’t want to call me Ashton because I knew it was only a matter of time before the whole freaking universe was going to be shouting that name. And I didn’t mean that because people loved me — no, I meant that just because once reporters had a bone it was chewed on until only tiny shreds remained, once the bone disappeared, they’d just cough it up and start the process all over again.