“Allowed what to go on?” she asked. Despite her chin pointed up, challenging me, tears shook in the corner of her eyes, and her lovely lips trembled.
I breathed in.
I breathed out.
“You and I.”
My eyes moved past her, and the all-familiar struggle in her breathing broke like the times I’d laid her over my mattress and pleased her with the same lips and tongue that just spoke those three simple words.
She was acting strong. Hell, she was strong, and I showed her how. But I could strip her of her strength with a snap of a finger.
“Ollie, it’s the medication. You don’t mean that. You promised me,” she showed me my ring on her pointer finger, “You fucking promised me, remember?” Her hand shook between us.
“Don’t curse, darling. It’s a turnoff.” I took one step, but so did she—right out in front of me.
“Tell me what to do, Ollie. How am I supposed to remind you?” she asked, desperation twined in her tone and beaten eyes—my little desperate explosion of hope.
There was nothing to remind me of. I remembered everything.
“You can’t. It’s over. You have to let me go,” I said, forcing out each word.
She touched my face, and my entire body went rigid under her fingers. Standing at least a foot over her, I could easily pick her up and throw her to the opposite end of the hallway with little effort, yet she disarmed me with the tips of five soft fingers.
My incompetent body and helpless mouth surrendered under her touch. Even my heart went on standby, obeying like a damn fool, awaiting orders.
“Please, look at me,” she pleaded.
Only a fraction of a centimeter to my left was needed to see her, and that small effort demanded every ounce of strength I had, and I had a lot.
But it still managed to wipe me out.
Our eyes met, and despite my lack of giving a damn, my hand covered hers over my face. My intention at first was to pull them both away, but something snapped inside me.
And again, I couldn’t move.
Mia inched her way closer, lifting off her heels, and my eyes closed before her lips barely brushed across mine. She pulled away slightly, and I opened my eyes to see her.
Twelve freckles spread across her nose and under her eyes. Golden-brown eyes blazed from the fire in her soul. The sweet taste and heavenly aroma of … “Mia … ” Poetry.
An abrupt crusade fought within me.
A villain and a hero. An angel and a demon. Heaven and hell.
A rush of emotions crossed over me in an instant, and I dipped down, immersing myself in them. I couldn’t help it. She was to blame. She always had the power.
My reckless mouth grabbed onto hers, holding on for dear life. But not even her anchor was strong enough against the waves of the paralysis.
Because then it was gone.
I pulled away.
“I’m such an idiot,” I whispered, and the dark side inside laughed like it was no big deal. I looked her over, thinking about how my brother’s hands were on her. Thinking of how he had touched her. How she was his before she was ever mine. “Stay away from me, Mia.”
Five bloody words.
Despite the alarming, gaping hole it left, I walked away.
She cried out for me in the place I left her. My feet stayed in front of me, one right after the other, but the small fraction of my heart that hadn’t been corrupted by the pills screamed along with her, clawing at me from the inside out.
I shoved my hands into my pocket to clench my fists.
And I closed my eyes.
Chapter One
Seven Months Later
“The two slowest deaths
are absence and time.”
—Oliver Masters
mia
HE STARED AT ME, his eyes fixed, steady, and without a smile. If one didn’t know better they would think he was bored. But I’d known Zeke for almost a year now, and this was the face of contentment.
The room where we typically held group therapy was vacant on the weekends, and at first, I’d come here to ease my thoughts of Ollie and my itching fingers, but now I’ve continued to play the piano every Saturday to abate Zeke’s troubled mind.
Dr. Conway said she had seen an improvement in Zeke since I started playing for him. I was just glad it was because of my own doing. For once, I’d improved life for someone instead of destroying it, and it felt good.
Despite Ollie being gone, the time spent with him still changed me.
Ollie changed me.
“Okay, Zeke. Hour’s up.” I rested my palms over my thighs. Zeke didn’t speak, as always, but communicated “thank you” with a simple motion of his hand—as always.
I’d picked up gestures here and there but mostly learned from a book I’d grabbed from the library. I wasn’t fluent in sign language, but Zeke’s patience never hindered.
As soon as I stood, Zeke held up an “O,” and I already knew the direction of where the question headed. Zeke survived on routine, and just like every Saturday before, after I stood from the piano, Ollie’s name was brought up.
I hadn’t seen Ollie since the day he slipped away. No one gave me any indication as to why Dean Lynch removed him from the program, but rumors spread as wide as Maddie’s legs here at Dolor. Some blamed it on Lynch’s carelessness and favoritism as if they understood the entire story. Supposedly, the Dean had decided to cast Ollie out to prove his dedication to Dolor’s core values. Others assumed he was removed temporarily while he and his brother were investigated. Both seemed plausible, and Lynch wouldn’t tell me otherwise.
One thing I was sure of: I missed him.
The first three months without him were unbearable, and these last three benumbing. The unknown only made it worse—not knowing if I would ever see him again, not knowing if he was okay, and not knowing if he had gotten better.
“Stay away from me, Mia,” were his last words to me, but I refused to. He hadn’t been in his right mind, and that much he had warned me. And whether he was here or not, I would stay with him. Those last words were replaced by others he had said to me the night he snuck into the Looney Bin and confessed he was in love with me. “Stay with me, even when I’m gone.”
Right now, he was gone.
And over the last seven months in his absence, I stayed.
Like every other Saturday, I provided Zeke with the same answer, “Close your eyes.” I forced a convincing smile. Ollie’s slow and haunting voice flowed through my head without admission. “If reality becomes unbearable, close your eyes. We were made with an imagination.”
Clenching my eyes closed, I fought the tears threatening to fall.
Not in front of Zeke.
“Stop right there,” I ordered, peering down the corridor after closing the door to my dorm behind me. The blond hair boy froze and I narrowed my eyes. “Jake? Is that you?”
Jake slowly turned around, and his thin lips managed to disappear under the force of his broad smile. “Crap-bag!”
The next thing I knew, I was swept off the floor and engulfed in Jake’s arms.
After the school year ended, Jake’s father signed him out of the program to attend a mission trip for his church. With Jake and Ollie gone, Bria and I had grown close.
“I honestly wasn’t expecting to see you again,” I admitted once he set me back on solid ground.