Authors: Anie Michaels
My stomach plummeted all the way to my knees. Warmth drained from my face and I’m sure all my color went with it. I shrugged. “I haven’t done anything. Just brought over some food and stuff.” Mrs. Wallace reached her hand over and placed it on mine, squeezing it gently.
“Just having you here helps, McKenzie. When I lost Cory, I knew I’d lost you too, in a way. You’re the closest thing to a daughter I’ve ever had, and I was looking forward to the day I could call you mine officially.”
Oh, God, no. My eyes flitted to my mother’s and she looked like a combination of sad for her friend and worried about me. Mrs. Wallace’s words were landing on my shoulders like boulders, pinning me down in a way I hadn’t felt in weeks. Hayes’s foot unhooked from mine and it was as though he’d cut the rope to my life raft, sending me out to sea to fend for myself.
“Mom,” he said, his voice soft but rough.
“Oh, sweetie,” she said, waving one hand, dismissing him, while the other wiped a tear from her face. “I know you’ll marry someone one day, but it won’t be the same. McKenzie and Cory were meant to be, from day one.”
All the oxygen in the room was being sucked out by her words, my lungs shriveling in my chest, aching for air.
“Chelsea,” my mom whispered, slowly shaking her head. Mrs. Wallace looked at her, then seemed to wake up a little, as if her mind had been somewhere else. She looked around the table, probably taking in my stunned expression and Hayes’s face, which looked like a cross between angry and murderous.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her eyes darting back and forth between Hayes and me. “I think,” she started, but stopped, looking at my mom. “I think I want to get some fresh air. Will you go for a walk with me?”
Everyone was silent. Besides doctor’s appointments for sleeping pills, Mrs. Wallace hadn’t left the house since the funeral. For her to ask to leave, to offer to go for a walk, was surprising. I was floating somewhere between being happy for the milestone and relieved she was leaving and giving my mind and body a chance to deal with the effect of her words.
Hayes and I both sat in silence while our mothers pulled on their jackets, tied their shoes, and left the house.
I had no words, so I was glad when Hayes spoke first.
“She doesn’t understand what she’s saying.” His voice was still low and raspy, like his throat was doing everything it could to hold back his screams. It was the kind of control that you knew was just seconds away from being lost, like he could snap at any moment. “She’s drowning, Kenz. In grief. She can’t understand the effect her words are having. You can’t take what she says to heart.”
I sat in my chair, mouth tightly shut, hands clasped tightly around each other in my lap, jaw tense, with emotion simply squeezing me to the point of rupture. I was trying to hold it all in, trying to let the wave of anger and sadness pass over me, to feel it crest and wane, but it just kept building until I couldn’t take it any longer.
My elbows came to the table, my face went into my hands, and I erupted in cries. It was not even two seconds before Hayes had his arms around me, holding me, his hand running soft circles on my back. And I simply cried. The very last thing I needed in that moment was for Mrs. Wallace to walk in on her
other son
touching me in a way that indicated anything more than friendship.
I stood up quickly, my chair scraping against the linoleum floor, and I ran to the bathroom. I shut the door behind me, locked it, and didn’t even bother with the light. I didn’t particularly want to look at myself in that moment anyhow.
I was the worst kind of person.
Again, not two seconds after I’d made it into the bathroom, Hayes was on the other side of the door, pounding on it.
“Kenzie, don’t do this. Don’t push me away. We have to stick together.” His words were punctuated by thumping on the door. I could picture him on the other side, breathing hard, waiting for me to open the door, to open myself up to him again.
It was so easy to forget that what we were doing was wrong. So easy. I let the way I felt around him, the way every part of me cried out for him, overshadow the fact that there’s no way for our relationship to be
right
.
He was my boyfriend’s brother. The brother of my boyfriend who died thinking I loved him, thinking that I would spend the rest of my life with him. And he was my History teacher. I couldn’t think of one single other person who I could choose to start a relationship with that could cause as much destruction as Hayes and I could if anyone found out about us.
“You don’t have to mourn him the way other people think you should, Kenz. You don’t have to stay home, you don’t have to be single forever, you don’t have to
act
any certain way. My mom wants you to be sad without him forever, because that’s how she thinks she’s going to feel. Sad. Forever. But that’s not true. And it’s not how you have to feel either.”
I turned my back to the mirror I couldn’t see, rested my rear against the counter, and ran my fingertips under my eyes, wiping away the wetness.
“Please, baby, let me in.” Those words were whispered, and I thought I heard fear in them as well. I reached out and turned the lock. He must have heard it because the door slowly opened, light streaking into the bathroom. He opened it just far enough to get his body through, and then he closed it. When I heard the lock turn again, my breath caught in my lungs.
It was dark in the bathroom but I could still see him move to stand right in front of me, see his shadowed form come to a stop. His hand reached out and gripped my hip, my eyes closing at his touch even though I could see barely anything. I’d never experienced such conflicting emotions before. On one hand, I desperately wanted him to touch me, to soothe the ache inside of me, force me to focus on what his touch made me feel as opposed to the pain currently ripping through me. On the other hand, I knew, on some level, he shouldn’t have been touching me at all. I should push him away. I should tell him we couldn’t do whatever it was we were doing anymore.
But I simply wasn’t strong enough.
When I didn’t push away his first touch, he reached out with his other hand, both hands now on my waist. Slowly they moved toward my back, pulling me into him.
And I went.
Because I was weak.
We’d all lost so much, and losing Hayes would have been too much to bear.
When I was pressed against him, my hands wound around his waist, his hands moving into my hair, the tears didn’t stop and neither did the thoughts. So I spoke them. I let them have a voice.
“Our being together is going to hurt everyone around us, Hayes. If they ever found out, if your mom ever knew, it would break her. It’s
wrong
, Hayes. We’re wrong.”
“I know,” he whispered after a long pause. “But nothing has ever felt so right.”
I couldn’t argue with him.
His hands moved from my hair, down to the sides of my neck, and he leaned away from me. I opened my eyes and all I could see was the outline of his face, feel the warmth of his hands on my throat, the gentle stroking of his thumbs over my cheeks, still wet from tears. When his lips feathered over mine I didn’t try to pull away. I knew it was wrong, but that wasn’t reason enough to stop him. The way he kissed me, as if I could fall apart at any moment, as if he didn’t know whether his kiss would shatter me or hold me together, it made me love him that much more.
Good, bad, wrong, or right, I needed him to know.
“I love you,” I said against his lips between kisses. For seconds, the only thing I heard was the thundering of my pulse in my ears. “I don’t care if it’s wrong, it doesn’t make it
feel
any less real, any less true.” He was still quiet, his hands frozen in place on the sides of my face. Then they were quickly moved to my hips where he gripped me, picked me up, and placed me on the counter. My knees instinctively opened, and he immediately moved in between them. He was still so much taller than me, and even though it was pitch black, I still tilted my head up to look at him, knowing without a doubt he was looking down at me.
“You love me?” he asked, quickly followed by, “or you’re in love with me?”
I understood why he was asking, why he needed the clarification, and I wanted nothing more in that moment than to reassure him.
“Every part of me is in love with you.” The words left my mouth just before his lips descended. The kiss was soft and slow, lingering, as if he wanted it to be branded there, to last forever, to mark me. My hands lifted to his stomach, sliding around, pulling him closer to me. With every second of the kiss that elapsed, the panic within me rose. His kisses, unlike any kiss I’d ever received, were limited. We had an expiration date, I could feel it. There was no way for this to last. Something would pull us apart, wedge between us, crack the foundation we were standing on, which was already broken when we climbed atop it. I pulled away just as a sob ripped out of me, climbing out of my chest.
“You know I’m in love with you, Kenzie. I love you so fucking much,” he said, holding my face to his chest as I cried. His hands pulled me into him, moving rapidly to make sure he got hold of all of me.
I didn’t answer him, couldn’t vocalize what I was thinking.
It doesn’t matter how much we love each other; it’s all doomed anyway.
Chapter Eighteen
Hayes
Sitting at my desk, I looked over the assignment in front of me, the one I was supposed to be grading. I’d read the first paragraph four times already, each time losing interest and my mind wandering. I dropped the paper, exhaling loudly, running my hands over my face. It had been almost a week since McKenzie had told me she loved me, that she was
in love
with me. It wasn’t at all how I’d imagined those words passing our lips for the first time—in a dark bathroom, her crying, the words sounding more like a good-bye than the promise of a future together.
That night she’d wiped her eyes, dried her tears, pulled away from me—in so many ways—and gone home. She didn’t wait for her mother, didn’t kiss me good-bye, said practically nothing before leaving my house. It killed me. And since then she’d been distant, hardly speaking a word to me, answering my texts with short, one-word replies, and definitely not touching me. In fact, it seemed as though she was going to extra lengths to stay as far away from me as possible. She’d been late to class all week, coming in just after the bell, making it impossible for me to say anything to her in private, practically running for the door as soon as the period was over, and she’d stopped coming to my house with her mom.
That fact I couldn’t really blame her for, not after what my mother had said to her.
The door to the classroom opened with more force than usual, causing my eyes to dart in that direction. Mr. White strode in, his steps quick, a somewhat panicked look on his face.
“Mr. Wallace, I’m glad you’re here. There’s been somewhat of an emergency with my daughter, and I have to leave. Mrs. Anderson has given the okay for you to cover the rest of my classes, if you’re okay with that.” His statement was a question.
“Of course, I hope everything will be all right.”
“My daughter was in her PE class at the middle school, playing soccer, and they’re afraid she’s broken her leg. They already took her to the hospital by ambulance, so I’m headed there now. My wife is meeting me there.”
“Well, that sucks,” I said, running my hand through my hair, which I’d decided not to tie back that day. “Is there anything in particular you’d like me to cover? In your classes?”
“Oh, um,” he said distractedly as he patted all his pockets, finally pulling his car keys out of the front left one. “You know what? Just give the kids a study period. I’ll catch up tomorrow, or whenever I get back.”
I didn’t bother mentioning that tomorrow would be Saturday. I just nodded and watched as he gathered his belongings in a somewhat frantic manner.
“Don’t worry about anything here. I’ve got it covered.”
He gave me a very weak smile. “Thanks, Hayes.”
He left and I let out a sigh, pushing the paper I obviously couldn’t focus on away. I sat in silence for a few minutes, trying to find a solution to all my problems, to find that path that was obviously eluding me. When no answers came to me, I picked up my phone to text McKenzie.
**Come to my classroom during your lunch.**
It took a while for her to text back, which made sense since she was currently in class.
**You know that’s not a good idea.**
**Mr. White left for the day. The room will be empty.**
It wasn’t lost on me that I needed a convincing argument to get my girlfriend to come have lunch with me. Everything felt wrong, like it was slipping through my fingers and all I could do was grasp at the remaining pieces of what I thought we had together.
**Please, Kenzie. I need to see you.**
Apparently I wasn’t above begging.
**All right.**
Students started filing into the classroom, so I tossed my phone into my desk drawer and prepared to try and make it through two more periods before I saw McKenzie.
When she walked into my classroom a few hours later I was ready for her. I waited until she was all the way in, closed the door behind her, and then turned the lock. Her eyes flitted down, watching my fingers essentially block everyone else out of the room, out of our lives, even if it was just for a few moments.
She didn’t have anything with her besides her messenger bag, no lunch, which made me think she hadn’t come to enjoy a meal with me. Instead she’d come with armor, her shield so firmly in place, even if it was invisible.