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“…better off…me ’stead a her……died…s-sorry, Mase, so sorry…” My vision blurs, and it feels like there’s a fucking elephant sitting on my chest. “Stop.” The word slips out of me, inaudible over the ringing in my ears. “Wish it was me…” His words taper off into a silence so heavy, so profound, I’m helpless to avoid what comes next. No. Nonononono—
It’s too fucking late. I can’t unhear what he said…any more than I can unsee the images his words conjure up. Images I’ve never even fucking considered, as if some part of me just…knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it. And now he’s given me no choice but to confront them. Confront this. Reality. Because if it’s not this one, where Izzy’s gone…dead… It’s the one where it’s Jeremy, who I’ve lost instead—Jeremy, who’s been missing; Jeremy who’s dead. And I— I can’t. I can’t.
Izzy was the glue, not me. I’m just the consolation prize. The spare. The unprepared understudy. This role was never for me.
God, no wonder he wishes it was him instead. He’s had to watch me fall apart over and over and over again… Fall apart over her… Not just me, but his parents too. Waylon… Repeatedly, we’ve thrown our grief in his face, not realizing what it would do to him. This is Jeremy for fuck’s sake. The boy who, for as long as I’ve known him, has always felt like something was wrong with him. The boy who once told me how he feels like a burden. The boy who’s always fought so hard to melt into the background, so no one would spare him too much attention.
One second, we’re standing here, with three steps separating us. And the next, I’m all in his space, and his face is clutched in my hands. And he’s soft, so soft. But sharp too. Angular. Boy, boy, boy. Jeremy, Jeremy, Jeremy. Wide, startled eyes stare back at me, and I’m vaguely aware of his arms falling at his sides, the bottle slipping from his grip. “What—” I yank his face to me— “Shut up. Just. Shut. Up.” —and crush my mouth to his, smothering his gasp. He tenses. I tense. And everything just…stops.
Jeremy, Jeremy, Jeremy.
Slowly, slowly, I bring my trembling fingers to my lips. They still tingle. Jeremy blinks rapidly, pressing his hands to his chest, like he’s trying to slow his heart. “Mason?” he says, staring into me with so much confusion, so much fear, so much… Want. So, so much want. And I just— I can’t. I can’t stop this. His mouth opens, hands reaching out at the same time I rush him. Like two stars thrown on a collision course, racing at warp speed across the galaxy, we crash into each other in a white-hot explosion that rattles the universe. Shaking me to my core. Lips fusing. Fingers clutching.
Lifting my head, I meet his hooded gaze, and it doesn’t escape me how fucking wrecked he looks right now. Black lashes coated with the rain that comes down harder and colder now. Cheeks damp and flushed. Lips red and swollen. Me. I did that.
My chest feels funny as I make my way to the kitchen. Tight, but also not. With each step that takes me away from the scene in the bedroom, I feel less and less a part of my body. And I keep having to swallow and blink like if I don’t, I’ll just…fade away. Disappear within myself. So cold… I’m so cold.
He kissed me. Mason kissed me.
I can’t…I can’t… I thought… Hope. It’s a vicious fucking thing. Like love—like death—all it does is take and take and take. We’re put on this earth for no other purpose than to be ravaged.
I shake my head, and squeeze my eyes shut, muffling my anguished scream into my skin, as the numbness—that icy numbness I’ve been clinging to for years, the one that would settle over me when I needed it most, like my very own shield… It shatters, wholly and completely, leaving me exposed down to the bone. Because I realize now, that this is worse. So much worse.
Why, God, why wasn’t it me? In this moment, I realize I’ve never hated Mason more. For prolonging this. For making me hang onto hope for years. For lying to him so much, and for so long, that I actually started to believe it. That she was out there. I fucking hate him. And for the first time ever… For one sharp, swift beat that will forever be a black spot on my shattered heart… I don’t wish it was me who got taken instead of Izzy. I wish it was him. Because then I’d have my sister back. We’d be together. I’d have Izzy, and I wouldn’t know what it’s like to kiss someone I’ll never have. I
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When we lose someone we love we must learn not to live without them, but to live with the love they left behind. —Unknown
“Just a line from a poem I like. ‘Things fall apart; the center cannot hold.’ Basically means that, no matter how hard we try to maintain control and order, chaos will inevitably get its turn. There is no one without the other. Things break and start anew and break again. It’s inevitable.”
I wished he was mine. All mine, and only mine. For years. On shooting stars. On birthday candles. Then one day, my wish was granted. And I’ve been wishing every second since, on every breath, that I could take it back.
“I’m done being some kind of…stand-in for her. A place for him to dump all that love on, because she’s not here to take it.” Mom’s eyes widen. “Jeremy…you can’t honestly believe that’s all you are to him.” I huff a bitter laugh. “Whether he knows it or not, that’s exactly what I’ve become.” I meet her tightened, reddened gaze. “The Mason I knew and loved died with her. I see that now.” Her face bunches, eyes watering. “Sweet boy…” I shrug. “It is what it is. At least now I can…finally accept that, and grieve them both, and-and move on with my life. Start over.” For real this time.
“It won’t kill you to let go, even if it feels like it.” She pauses meaningfully. “But it will kill you if you keep it all inside.” She goes to turn, when I stop her with my next words. “What happens after?” Meeting my gaze, she smiles softly, sadly. “You keep going.” And with that, she disappears into the living room, shutting the door behind her. And to an empty room, I say, “What if there’s nothing left?”
I was a casualty. I’ve been a casualty. A scapegoat. An excuse. A crutch. Nothing more.
“Then why…why am I sober right now, and I still want this?” My voice cracks, betraying me. “Why?” His eyes open, and my gaze bores into his, pleading for something I can’t name. “Jeremy,” I whisper. He blinks rapidly. “I…” “Jeremy.” Pinching his chin, I tip his head back. He gulps—loudly—just as I swoop down, dancing my lips off his in a featherlight kiss. A thing of nerves really.
“No one’s ever looked at me like that.” My eyes fall shut. “It fucked me up.” “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Several seconds pass. “You know, my own parents even struggle to look at me sometimes,” he goes on. “Same with Waylon. And I know… I know it’s hard for you too—” “Jeremy—” “Don’t deny it. It’s true and we both know it. I’m a constant fucking reminder of what we all lost. Hell, I can barely look at myself in the mirror sometimes, because it’ll be her I find staring back at me.”
“Because…because you and I both know that if she were here, I wouldn’t even be an option.” And with those damning words, my shoulders slump. “Jeremy…” “I can’t do this anymore,” he tells me. Blinking against the tears rapidly forming, I say, “Do what?” He gestures roughly between us. “This. Us. I’m done.” “Wha-what? Wait. We’re still friends. We—” “You called me by her name!” he shouts, his ragged voice bouncing off the building. Eyes wide, I rear back. A horrible, bitter laugh fills the air. “It’s always about her. Even when she’s dead, it’s all about her. Always has been, always will be
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He should hate me. Not her. Me. I’m the cause of this. Shoulders hunched, all I can do is keep nodding, and take the verbal beating I suddenly realize has been a long time coming. Because with each agonized, forced out word from Jeremy’s snarled mouth— Jeremy, who’s always struggled to fight back, to let himself feel angry and hurt. Jeremy, who has never once looked at me like he’s looking at me now, like he really does mean it when he says he hates me. Jeremy, who’s always looked at me like I was his hero, like someone worthy of his admiration, of his friendship, of his time… The gravity of
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“I just want to forget,” he wrenches out. “I just want a fucking break from all this shit. Just when I think I’m finally free of you—you pull me back in, and without a fucking care in the world. “I’m done being dragged down by you.” He throws a hand out. “I’m done living in this ghost town. And I’m done being a stand in for her,” he says, looking right into me, for once letting me see it all. His pain. His anger. Years of agony and spite stored up… It’s all laid out for me to see. “I’m done letting you use me to fill some void.” My eyes fall shut, and I shake my head. No… It’s not true. It’s
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“Do you know what it’s like, realizing the universe fucked up?” His eyes are thick with tears he still can’t seem to let fall, despite bleeding out for me. “Do you know what it’s like to know that deep down, it has to have crossed people’s minds, my parents’ minds, yours?” “It should’ve been me.” I shake my head, his words tumbling around my head. “I told you—” “And you lied!” he shouts over me. Nostrils flaring, chest heaving. “Whether you want to admit it or not.” He won’t believe me. No matter what I say… “You’re supposed to be here, Jeremy,” I whisper instead. “You’re supposed to be
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Throwing myself back a step, I tip my head back, and glare up at the twinkling night sky. And to God. To the universe. To the stars and angels. To my dad. To Izzy… And to me, most of all. I scream, “Fuck you!”
P.S. Did you know about Will and Way????
“Shit happens,” Jeremy says simply, as if reading my mind. “Yeah, we’ve gone through a lot more shit than most people. Perhaps we’re just victims of Murphy’s Law—what can go wrong, will go wrong.” He shrugs. “Some people go years, lucky enough to never have to go through anything like we have. And then some people are just knocked on their ass over and over and over again. So long as one exists, the other will too. It’s just the way things go.”
“Mase…” I sniff. “Yeah?” “Do you…do you need Shawn?” My eyes fall shut. I need you.
“Perhaps the answers you seek aren’t in the stars…but in the space between them.”
Once upon a time, I was only twelve minutes and thirteen seconds older than my sister. Now, I’m twenty-two. She’s still seventeen. Five whole fucking years separate us. I can’t imagine the loss of a sibling is easy for anyone, but it’s definitely a special brand of torture when you’re a twin, and have to carry the knowledge with you that your headstones will only share the one date. It’s one of those things you don’t really think about—that you’ll come into this world together, but go out separately. Not until they’re gone, and you’re left behind, and now you have to suffer through year after
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“I love you.” Time stops. The universe rattling, quivering, set to implode— “And before you tell me you love me too, or misconstrue what I’m saying, I mean…I love you…Mason. I’m in love with you.”
“I’m only telling you because…” He lifts his shoulders. “Because I can’t carry it in me anymore. I’m tired, Mase.” His voice cracks on my name. “I’m tired, and I’m in love with you, and I know it’s wrong—so fucking wrong—but I meant what I said in that text months ago—I’m terrified of losing you. “You’ve been my best friend since the second you stepped in front of Clay and his friends, like a superhero from my comics come to life, right off the pages. For years, you were my only friend. And—” He quickly cuts himself off, shaking his head and dropping his gaze. Wetting his lips, he says
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“And you’re probably wondering why now, today of all days, and here of all places, and…and I guess it’s because I realized that, I can only move forward—from Izzy—heal…if I let you go too. Set you free.”
“You forget how well I know you, Mason. But this is something that’s beyond your fixing. I know you’ve been…confused. I know everything’s gotten all twisted up between us—hell, sometimes even I wonder if this truly is love I feel for you, or if I am just clinging to the past.”
And here I thought he was only so mad at me for kissing him because it forced him to betray his sister. Not because I was…leading him on, rubbing his feeling in his face or whatever—albeit unintentionally. All because I couldn’t think beyond just what I wanted in that moment, paying no care to what it might do to him. Two things can be true at once.
“I told you. You’re Mason Wyatt. Of course, I fell in love with you.” He says it so simply—so effortlessly, despite the tears shining in his eyes, and the quiver in his lips. Like falling in love with me wasn’t just an accident, but an inevitability. Like my mere existence is all it took for him to fall.
And it’s taking everything in me not to do something unforgivably stupid. Like beg. Like kiss him. He’d stay if I asked him to…if I told him how badly I need him… It’s the one thing I know with certainty, even if he can’t believe that I could ever want him in the way he wants me. Feel for him the way he feels for me. And it would be for all the wrong reasons, if he stayed…
“I need time,” he says quietly. “Space. I don’t—I can’t wait until I leave in the summer for…for things to change. I need out now.” Rolling my lips together, I nod. “So…no texting? Calling?” He’s shaking his head. “Nothing. I…I need to move on. And I can’t exactly do that when every time I see your name appear on my screen, I’m pulled right back into your orbit.” He pauses. “I won’t be coming back to Shiloh—”
“Not for a while,” he tells me firmly. “However long it takes. It’s not just Izzy haunting every inch of this place anymore, Mase. Or even the bad memories from when I was a kid. It’s…it’s you. Us. Everything we’ve been through over the years. Everything that has made it impossible to move on while simultaneously keeping you in my life, even at arm’s length.”
“If there is any chance for us to find our way back to each other—as friends—and not as who we were, because those versions of us are gone. But to…form something new. Healthy…” He nods. “We gotta get off this ride. Reset.” “I’ve gotta lose you,” I say with a near-unbearable thickness. It’s a wonder he even understands me at all. He smiles, making his eyes squint, and he nods. “Yeah, you do.” “But not forever. I refuse to let this be forever,” I rush out quickly. “Even if…even if you’re on the other side of the globe. I get that you need space right now, but—” “We’ll play it by ear. See where
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“Right now, I can’t stand the thought of never kissing you again,”
“And I know this is the worst place to do this—again—and probably—” “Jer.” He quiets. “Just shut up and kiss me.”
With those two softly uttered words, thrown up at the heavens, he seals his lips to mine— And she is forgotten. If only for this moment. It’s just Jeremy and me, and a lifetime of fear and regret and pushed back feelings colliding in a white-hot supernova that obliterates every other thought, every other sensation, but this. Thisthisthis. Ususus. My arms come around him, pulling him up flat against me. His mouth stretches mine open, giving our tongues all the permission they need to tangle hotly together, like it’s what they’ve been made to do.
Forget the kiss at fourteen—hell,forget the two kisses we shared months ago. As far as I’m concerned, this is it—this is what it truly is like to kiss Jeremy Montgomery, my shy, stubborn boy with his fiercely protected heart; the boy who gave me back the stars…the angels… The boy who held me even when it was likely killing him… The boy who just ripped himself open for me. “I’m in love with you, Mason.” Like this, trapped in his orbit. I can believe it. I feel it. How he hid this from me, I have no fucking idea. How I could even doubt him… No clue. This kiss isn’t just a goodbye—a last chance.
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He is wrong. That kiss confirmed as much. There is something here…something raw and fragile and foreign, yet…not. Like a forgotten memory, I just have to polish off. There has to be…I can’t be so fucked in the head that I created all of this—all of that—out of nothing. Out of a void. He is the void. Him. Jeremy. He’s what’s been missing all along… What I’ve been chasing. Right in front of my fucking face. But it doesn’t matter now, does it?
Birth. Death. A cycle coming full-circle as we close the door on one book, to open the next. He came home to say goodbye to all of this…to us…to Izzy…
And somehow, after that, it just became this…thing. Year after year on his and Izzy’s birthday—on mine—on Waylon’s… We play this song, and we dance and we sing it as loud as we can. Infusing as much good and happy as we can, so as to never be hurt by this song again. They did that for me. Just like they’ve been holding me up all these years, even before we lost Izzy. Taking me in like I was a part of them from the start. It’s been so long since we last did this. Not since we were seventeen.
Say you’re mine. Our fingers tangle, squeezing, and I wonder if he senses it. This creeping knowledge in the back of my head—this sudden desire to start over, start fresh, do things better. I don’t want to lose him… But I know I can’t keep him. Not now, not like this. I’ve kept him for long enough. And this boy deserves to fly free—to scream from hilltops haloed under lemon-yellow suns, his demons slain and scattered beneath his feet. King Jeremy the Wicked, finally ruling his world. And maybe, just maybe, one day he’ll let me be part of it once more…
