Dillan opened my door and reached in to help me slid out of the GT. I gathered my skirt close after a gust of wind threatened to give everyone in the lot a peepshow. The crisp autumn air touched my cheeks. The scent of pine and grass filled my lungs. And a secret smile, one that celebrated discreetly the life given back to me, played on my lips. Then the arms of the boy who had enough courage to overcome his fears embraced me.
“What’s up?” I whispered.
Heat flashed in his eyes at the sound of my voice. It seemed he still couldn’t believe I was alive. I had to fix that. I snaked my arms around him and pulled him closer. I waited until he spoke again.
“I thought—”
“I didn’t.” I cut him off. “I’m here.”
He took my face in his hands and kissed me. A deep, life changing kiss. The slip of his tongue, the nibble of his teeth, all carried secret promises for later. I lost myself in him, letting go of the aching feeling that my life will forever be different.
Facebook status: It’s Complicated.
“You’re not seriously making out at a memorial, are you?” Kyle’s sarcasm meant he was back to normal.
We separated then Dillan brought his lips back for one last electric touch. Just when he left me wanting more, he stepped away from my arms. Oh, he’ll pay for that later. The jerk.
I sighed and faced my best friend. “Give me a break. I just recovered.”
Kyle smiled from ear to ear. “It’s good to have you back.” He came closer. “Scared us for a bit there.”
“Well, I didn’t see you visiting the day I woke up.”
His gaze fell. Just at the top of his scarf peeked out a scar. I pummeled the anger that came from seeing it back down before it overwhelmed me. That scar had brothers and sisters hidden beneath the black cashmere. Ormand left his mark on all of us—some more obvious than others.
“That’s my cue.” Dillan put a hand on the small of my back.
I glanced up at him. The newness of the compassion in his expression still surprised me. Something in him had changed, too. He leaned down and kissed my cheek before he left me alone with Kyle.
I watched him walk to the entrance of Greenwood, hands in the pockets of his coat. Then I looked at Kyle and said, “So.”
“So,” he echoed.
“What do you have to say for yourself?”
“First off, I’m sorry.”
I grinned at his awkwardness. “Hold the sincerity, why don’t you?”
He returned my grin. “I think you should ask me anything you want to know. That’s the best apology I can make.” He ran his fingers through his slicked back hair.
“No more lies?”
“I have none left. You’re part of the fold now.”
“Be ready when I take you up on that offer.” I pocketed my hands and stared up at a sky that reminded me so much of Dillan’s eyes. “Let’s walk. The memorial’s about to start.” I linked my arm with his and we ambled to the massive wrought iron gates.
Before we reached the memorial site, I whispered, “Promise me, no matter what, even if it’s for my own good, no more secrets.” I stopped and looked into my best friend’s stormy gray eyes. “I’d rather know the truth before someone else I care about gets hurt or worse.” I squeezed his arm. “Promise me.”
We stared into each other’s eyes for the longest minute. Then he smiled his charming smile. He bent forward and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “I promise…even of it kills me.”
“Is there something I should know about you two?” a cheery voice asked.
I whipped around. “Penny!” I drew my other best friend into the biggest, tightest hug I could manage without fusing our bodies together. I’d almost lost her. If it weren’t for…I shook my head. She was safe now. Better yet, she was Penny again.
“Whoa! Hey!” She returned the hug. “What’s with the sudden touchy feely? We just spoke on the phone last night. Epic conversation, by the way.”
I blinked away sudden tears of joy. Penny, thank God, remembered nothing. Sebastian made sure of it. Or so I’d been told. I hadn’t seen the hellhound since that night at Greenwood. Penny stayed good-old-gossipy Penny, and I loved her like I loved Kyle and Grams and Gramps and life. I overflowed with love today. Better than any drug.
“Can’t a friend hug a friend?” I asked through the lump in my throat.
“So long as you’re not in your experimenting with girls phase. You’re pretty and all, but I don’t dance on that floor.”
I gave her a big smooch on the cheek.
Kyle coughed to get our attention. “We’re being called over.”
…
Whoever planned Bowen’s memorial should do it for a living. If the whole resurrection thing didn’t work out, I would have wanted the same kind. Okay, morbid, but I did just die. He would have loved his gravesite—on a hill, overlooking a stretch of pine. Stands of white roses flanked a blown up picture of him from when he won State. His parents sat at the front row of wooden folding chairs, holding hands. His mother wore a black veil, while his father remained politely attentive of the proceedings, his other hand on Bowen’s sobbing younger sister.
After a few words from Pastor Tanner, the eleventh grade gathered around the hole where the casket had been lowered. Instead of flowers being thrown in, someone decided on water balloons. I grinned. He would have enjoyed the gesture. He practically lived in the pool. It was a fitting farewell to a swimming star and a one-time ex. A few tears escaped when I dropped my balloon and it popped on the coffin, causing a splash.
“Rest in peace,” I said softly.
When I turned to walk away, Bowen’s mother stepped in front of me.
“May I have a moment, my dear?” she asked in a voice just as smooth as Bowen’s.
I bobbed my head once, only seeing her red lips below the veil. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Gage.”
She shook her head and gathered me into a hug. We stood in silence for a while, sharing the comfort being in each other’s company brought.
“My son didn’t know any better,” she said after a while. “It is we who owe you an apology for not taking better precautions against threats like the Maestro.”
“You couldn’t have known. No one knew until the very end.” I pulled back and looked straight at the other woman’s veil. “I don’t blame anyone.”
A fragile smile played on her lips. “A gracious girl,” she whispered. “Take care not to fall into the wrong hands.”
Her warning stuck with me long after she had left. I stood alone near Bowen’s grave, thinking of my future. Of what happens next.
“You okay?” Dillan came to my side and took my hand.
I linked my fingers with his, letting the warmth of his touch reassure me. “Just thinking.”
“That’s never good.”
I punched his shoulder. “Well, live with it.”
“Ready to go home?”
I gave Bowen’s grave one last goodbye smile then nodded at Dillan.
We made our way to the entrance. At about fifty yards from the gate, he stopped—his spine stiff as a rod. His face paled, lips set.
“What is it?” I asked, my heart in my throat. Please don’t tell me something was already up. We just survived The Night of the Living Greenwood. I wasn’t ready for the sequel. I swallowed and followed his gaze.
At the cemetery entrance, Mr. Sloan bent over the half open window of a stretch limo. Some people gathered around to gawk at the expensive car. Not many of those rolled into a town like Newcastle.
Just as I faced Dillan again, his grip tightened around my hand.
“What is it?”
“Holy shit.” He paled even more.