Xavier’s eyes light up like the Fourth of July as he catches sight of me. It’s the same look he gave Willow, but that’s not good enough. He’s hovering over the coffee table where the coke is laid out, acid, and a few pills I can’t quite name. Slowly, he makes his way over to me and I swear classical music is playing in the background. Or maybe that’s just in my head. My heart starts to flutter; like we’re right back in our very first moments. Sitting in a car at five in the morning and arguing over caramelized peanuts and soggy tacos. Or when the sun was rising and we would watch as he went on about some stupid TV show he liked as a kid.

  “You’re beautiful.” A sly smile appears on his face while those large hands grip my waist. “And if you would have told me I would have set out some wineglasses instead.”

  Chuckles leave both of our lips. “I just wanted to show you how much I love you.”

  “I’m in love with you.” The words leak from his lips so effortlessly, like love is easy for him. I wish I was the same. But then again, no, I don’t. Love being so hard for me is the reason why I appreciate him as much as I do. As I look into his eyes, I want to say I’m in love with him too. But it’s more than that, and I truly can’t put it all into words. Xavier Amari is love. I’m just the girl he chooses to share it with. And I know this because no matter how hard I tried to find love in different places, in different people, or different things, they were really just a million different ways of saying his name.

  “Do you mean that?”

  He nuzzles his head into the crook of my neck. “Of course I do. You’re my best fucking friend.”

  “Greyson is your best friend.”

  “Let me be romantic, Kimber,” he replies with a soft roar of laughter.

  My eyes zone in on the dangling chain that sits eagerly over the dark hairs on his chest. The light coming from the chandelier above us allows the diamonds to glimmer. My focus goes from that to the tattoos on his arms and the veins that look like they’re about to pop. I never noticed how his chin had a dimple in the middle before. I guess I was too focused on the jawline that can cut glass. But right now, while admiring him, I notice everything. I want to take this moment and put it in my pocket, I want to keep it forever. I wish life worked like that. I wish we could just put genuine moments like these onto a disc and play it on the big screen.

  Thankfully, we have forever to recreate this over and over again.

  “What?” he interrupts.

  “You’re beautiful.” The words fall out of my mouth like a rush of raging water.

  “I should be saying that to you.”

  We hold each other for so long I feel like the sun is going to come up at any moment. But no, it’s still barely midnight. The next few hours are spent snorting more cocaine lines than I could keep track of and mixing opioids with cherry red wine. The norm.

  “Let’s dance!” Xavier’s words slur as he rises from the couch and takes me with him.

  “I am . . . I have two left feet. There’s not even any music playing.”

  “Yet.”

  “I can’t even feel my fucking face, Xavier.”

  He must have hooked his phone up to something but time is moving faster than it takes me to turn my head. You can call me selfish, but I want your love. The lyrics blare through the home at an intense volume as I lay there and notice a headache coming on.

  “Up, up,” he commands as he pulls on my hand.

  “My head hurts, Xavier.”

  “Then let’s make it better.” I know he’s holding onto me and moving my body across the floor but there’s no way I can physically be doing anything. Everything is moving in colors and not one object is clear anymore, not even him. Blurs have taken over my vision and I can’t do anything about it.

  “Tell me you love me.”

  “I love you.” I think that’s what he said. I hope it was.

  I’ve just gotta have you for myself.

  “Tell me a secret.” The words leave my numb mouth before I can even process what’s going on.

  We stop and before I know it we’re both laid out on the floor. “I have too many to count.”

  “Then tell me your favorite one.”

  “You don’t even tell me yours.”

  “I think you know my only one.”

  “Right. But if I told you that, then it wouldn’t be a . . . uh . . . uh . . . ”

  “A secret?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Just tell me one. Like . . . ” I want to stop myself, I know where this is going. “Who Willow is.”

  There’s a brief silence. “That’s not a secret.”

  “Oh . . . ”

  “I’ll tell you one, though.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “I’d kill myself if I ever lost you. So don’t fucking do anything to make me lose you. Ever. You’re everything to me, and I’d die for you. Swear on my mother.”

  As soon as the words attempt to make their way to my clueless brain, a sharp pain from my chest immediately cuts that off. “Xavier . . . ”

  “Yeah?”

  Shaky hands grip the lace that feels like it’s suddenly suffocating my entire being. “My chest hurts.” The breaths I’m taking begin to speed up as I try my best to calm down. Slowly but surely the ceiling begins to go from brown to completely black. “I can’t see. Xavier, I can’t fucking see!”

  “Fuck.” I can hear Xavier jumping up as the thud of his large feet makes the floor rattle—but I still can’t see. All the feeling in my body has vanished and there’s absolutely nothing allowing me to process what’s going on. I know I’m lying there, but I can’t speak. I can’t cry, I can’t scream. Am I dead? Am I dying?

  Is this how Samantha felt?

  “Lift her up, come on.” This voice is unfamiliar ,and even though I can hear everything that’s going on, I can’t say a word. I can’t feel them lifting me up and moving me. Suddenly, it’s completely silent.

  Forty-Eight

  “I DON’T KNOW how being a mother will affect me . . . I just hope it brings all the joy I know it will. I mean, it honestly already has. It’s only been a short few weeks, but I’m not hiding it. I’m happy.”

  The words crawling out of the TV speakers are the first thing I hear as I come back to life, maybe it’s what woke me up—who knows. I wake slowly. This isn’t the feeling of waking up in a California king, it feels wrong. My skin registers the scratchy sheets. Raw and exposed. My toes wiggling first then my fingers feeling the rough cotton of the blanket on top of me. I notice the breaths I’m taking; in and out. My hearing comes back as well, the familiar voice being the only thing making a sound at the moment. I don’t want to open my eyes. What will be in front of me when I do? I need a moment more, or ten more, to shake the sleep off of my brain.

  “I’m in a very happy place.” It’s at that moment that I realize who’s playing on the TV. My eyes shoot open like I’ve missed my alarm. An outdated TV hangs from the ceiling, showcasing the used-to-be-blonde to me. Savannah. Her hair is dark, but her stunning beauty is still shining through with or without the light tresses. I haven’t seen or heard of her in years. Wait—she’s pregnant?

  “How’s pregnancy going for you? I know the whole world has shown such excitement for your new bundle of joy!”

  Thank you GMA host. My eyes remain glued to the television. No one is around to see this, right?

  “It’s going really well . . . I’m healthy and so glad I’m going to have my own family finally. My partner and I are both just extremely blessed and feeling the gratitude.” She places her hand on her slightly poked out stomach.

  “And is the world ever going to know this mystery man?”

  “When the baby is born, yes. With everything I’ve been through I’ve been enjoying keeping this to myself.” She’s glowing. Darker hair makes her look so much younger, or maybe it’s the baby. Regardless she’s smiling so hard; I didn’t think that was possible for her. The devil only smiles when people are in pain. Yet, she’s smiling ear to ear at genuinely good news. The idea of Savannah being a cold-hearted snake had kept me sane for so long. She doesn’t deserve Xavier, right? She’s the manipulator and the villain. Yet, how is she coming off as America’s Sweetheart right now? Can no one else see right through her?

  My thoughts begin to drive me into a headache. The center of my forehead throbs uncontrollably as I finally take the time to scan my surroundings. Plain brown door, plain cream walls, boring. Empty. My right arm has an IV stuck in it that’s hooked to a drip. The monitor is the most annoying part. Why the fuck is it beeping? Hand sanitizer dispensers. Rubber gloves. Soap. The world’s most uncomfortable mattress. Hospitals and hell are the same exact place. No wonder I woke up to Savannah on the TV. I’m in literal hell. I rip the annoying breathing tube out of my nose and try to zone out Savannah’s laughter in the background. My tired eyes spot the remote, bingo. Quickly, I shut that noise off.

  “Hello! I’m awake!” I shout, hoping anyone will hear and come to my rescue.

  Immediately, Xavier comes bursting through the door. “Fuck . . . ” His eyes are filling with water faster than I can process. Before I can utter a sound, he has me wrapped in his arms like a baby bird. “I’m so sorry . . . I don’t . . . I don’t know what I was thinking. I love you. I love you, okay? You hear me?”

  My eyes widen, I’m blown away by his emotion. Truthfully, I haven’t even processed how or why I’m here. Did I even want to? “I’m okay.”

  He finally pulls back to get a look at me. “I thought I lost you.” Xavier’s face is puffy and red, as if he’s been crying for hours without a break.

  “I’m here, okay?” My weakened hands attempt to grab onto his face and give him a quick kiss on the forehead.

  He drops to his knees at the side of my hospital bed, hands still holding onto me. “I’m so fucking sorry . . . I’m a fucking piece of shit. I should have known.”

  “X . . . ” This is all too much. It’s like he’s beating himself up so that I don’t have to. But I don’t want to. I can barely remember what got me here in the first place, and now I have this man collapsing in front of me. “Xavier, please get up. Look, this is no one’s fault. I’m okay. Can we focus on that, for God’s sake?”

  He’s startled by my calm energy, immediately rising at my demands. “I’m just glad you’re okay, Kimber. This was a frightening night . . . ”

  “Okay.” Without warning, the wave of emotion begins to run over me as well. “Come here.”

  “Yeah,” he manages to say in between sniffles as he falls into my arms this time. As I hold him, I can feel his heart trying it’s best not to burst out of his chest.

  “We’re okay,” I whisper as I run my fingers repeatedly through his greasy hair.

  “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

  I freeze, completely unsure what this is. “Huh?”

  “Drugs, Kimber. I don’t—if it means losing you, I can’t. I refuse.”

  I continue to rub his back. “Okay.”

  “You sure?”

  His question almost makes me laugh. I never would have done any of this if it wasn’t for him. “Yeah. I think we both could use a break.”

  “No, I mean, I’m quitting for life. I’m fucking done.”

  “Oh. Then yes. That’s fine by me, trust me.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Now, can we get me out of here? This damn hospital gown has the air from the AC going up the crack of my ass.”

  He lets out a laugh before wiping his face with his shirt and standing. “I’ll go get your nurse.”

  I watch as the man of my dreams walks out the door. Sober? I don’t know if I’m excited or terrified. We tried this once before, about a year ago. I was tired of the party scene so we took a break from it, and Xavier thought that it would be best to take a break from the drugs as well. It wasn’t fun. He was irritable the whole time and the only thing that would keep him calm was training. He spent all day, every day in the gym that week. I barely saw him. Could we do that again? Did I want to do that again? A happy Xavier had everything in order, from his drugs to me. Not one hair out of place. So why would he offer to disrupt his peace like that? Did he love me that much?

  It dawns on me then. I have everything Savannah can’t get. Who cares if she’s pregnant with a mystery man and glowing to the high heavens? The man of her dreams is now mine, and he’s going sober for me.

  Take that, America’s Sweetheart.

  Forty-Nine

  I know it’s been a while and I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t traditionally invite you to this. I could have texted but that’s not very sincere, now is it?

  Please join my family and me for my father’s funeral on January 25th. I am inviting you because even though you never met him, you saw pieces of him in me, so I guess you knew him well enough. (Plus, I miss you.)

  Address and all the other details are on the card behind this letter. Love you, Arlissa.

  - Jerrica.

  I READ THAT letter maybe a million times, including on the way to the funeral. She invited Alejandra too. But alas, I had to be the bearer of bad news and let her know she was still on tour. Here’s the thing: when you don’t speak to someone for literal years you don’t really feel bad about it, right? You’re both busy, and as far as I know she’s doing great becoming the next Confucius. But the guilt kicks in when they think of you when something really bad happens. Then, it’s like shit, why didn’t I check in a week ago? Now I look like the asshole who never called.

  I sit there, alone, in a pitch-black dress that I have from one of the many times Xavier apologized for yelling too loud. What’s appropriate to wear to funerals, anyway? Should I be covered head to toe or are my knees acceptable?

  Due to having to drive myself, and the nerves, I’m late. So, I have to be the girl who takes the very last seat while a woman I can only assume is Jerrica’s mom cries on the stand. Even in funeral attire, everyone around me is wearing things I’m sure I can’t afford until I’m thirty.

  I’ve been to a funeral once. I don’t remember it well, but I remember Samantha’s high school photo from that year being enlarged. Placed on a canvas for everyone to see—including her sad little sister.

  I miss her.

  For a majority of it I tuned out. This man and I had never met, and now we never will. But Jerrica is the most genuine person I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, and if he’s responsible for raising such a gentle soul, then I have to pay my respects. I continue to zone out and count the crystals on the heels of the woman in front of me until I see Jerrica and a familiar brunette appear on the stand. My heart jumps out of my chest as I place my eyes on a pregnant Savannah. I’m just coming off an overdose that I’m trying desperately to forget, and there she is, glowing. Not even showing, but glowing. It’s like she does it on purpose. She has a habit of coming into my life at all the wrong times but it’s always the right time for her.

  “I have Savannah with me, today. And if you guys know me, then you know her. She has been my sister for so many years.” I watch as Savannah squeezes Jerrica’s hand in support. “Um, so she’s just going to stand here and be that rock for me, if you guys don’t mind.”

  “I love you, Jer-bear!” a random voice screams.

  She smiles. “My father was a master, to say the least. He mastered the art of kindness and vulnerability. He mastered any task he set his mind on. Whereas I picked up and dropped hobbies all the time.”

  My mind trails off to a speech I don’t even remember from my sister’s funeral until now. I was a kid, but I tried my hardest.

  I don’t know what to say but . . . I miss you and I love you. I miss when we used to have TV time together.

  “He taught me discipline. He was an amazing teacher who taught me more than the things that matter in this 3D reality. He taught me the power of routine and strength, and not only that but the power of people. And that’s why I brought Savannah up here with me. She’s not just here to say her piece since she was as much of a daughter to him as I was, but she’s here because my father would frown on me if I tried to pretend like I’m stronger than I am sometimes. Sometimes, you need people. Sometimes, the people around you may need you more than you think. It’s okay to tell people that you can’t do things alone.”

  Mom told me that you’re up there somewhere enjoying pumpkin pie because that’s your favorite. I hope you don’t meet anyone else you love more than me up there. I know Jesus is pretty cool, but . . . I’m cooler.

  “I also want to say that even though we all feel we’ve lost him, we didn’t. His energy is still around us. So, when people pass, all we did was lose them in the physical realm of things, right?”

  Come back, Samantha, please. You were the bestest big sister ever. And school sucks now because we don’t walk home together anymore. I can ride a bike, though. Your old bike! But it’s not the same. Mom isn’t the same. We miss you this much.

  “Hi, guys.”

  My train of thought is interrupted by Savannah’s shaky voice. She and Jerrica had traded places, and now I’m really interested in what the she-devil has to say. “We lost an amazing man. I love you so much, Elijah. Um, I thought I’d tell you guys a story. When I was in high school my life wasn’t the best. I was saved by Jerrica and her parents. I mean that in every single way possible.” Now Jerrica is squeezing her hand. What the hell did she need support for? This isn’t her dad. “He was my father.” Well. “I know a lot of you know me personally. And my biological dad and I are amazing right now. But, when I didn’t have a dad, I had Elijah. He bought me clothes so I wasn’t embarrassed at school, he taught me how to drive and lord was I bad at that. But there was one time in specific that I want to share with you. When I found out I succeeded in having a baby he was actually the first person I called. We went to a little pizza shop, you know, a whole in the wall. I just really wanted some darn grease, you know?”

 

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