He offers her a thin smile, then after squeezing his shoulder, she walks out of the tent.As soon as she’s gone, he closes the distance between us, one hand holding his ribs as he walks.I think maybe we should delay our reunion so he can go see a paramedic, but then he slides his palms underneath my jaw as I rise from the chair, and Icould cry because there was always a chance I wouldn’t get to feel it again.His hands on me, the heat of his body close to mine, the “you complete me” look in his eyes.Timing is everything when it comes to slashers and rom-coms, and if he’d been quicker unblocking the roof access and coming down to the dance floor, if John saw him before I—
This all could’ve ended so differently.
He doesn’t kiss me, he just stares down at me like he’s thinking the same thing, like he is well aware of the alternate ending.His thumbs trail across my cheekbones, his pulse beating strongly against my fingertips when I curl my hands around his wrists, and for a moment, I’m unsure of how we pick up from where we left off.Where we left off was with me on the way to meet a killer.
“Did you get them out?”I ask, going with the safest opener, and when he nods before pressing his forehead to mine, I really have to will the tears away.At this point I should be all cried out, but there seems to be a bottomless supply when it comes to surviving a slasher.
“They’re okay.They’re all okay.”
Him being here confirms it, but hearing the words still prompts a relieved sigh from deep in my chest.
“Is Laurie okay?”he asks.
My heart melts at the concern in his voice for my friend.For my girl.
“Yeah, she is.They’re talking to her now.”
He pulls back, his expression serious as he pushes my hair from my face and trails his palms back down to cradle my jaw.
“There’s gonna be a lot of that.It’s gonna be a long road from here, Jamie.They’re going to question all of us over and over again.Make us recount everything that happened.It doesn’t get tied up neatly like in the movies, you know?”
I’m getting an idea.In a perfect world I’d wash away the remnants of this evening and come back stronger, wiser, and maybe a little more jaded but still intact.But he’s right—it’s not like the movies.There are consequences and repercussions and widespread aftermath to what happened tonight.
“I heard you—they told me…” His voice is quiet, soft, and he doesn’t need to continue for me to know what they told him.I was very forthcoming with what exactly a Final Girl does at the end of the movie.But theory and reality are two different things, and maybe this—what I did to John—is the turnoff of all turnoffs.Maybe this is the thing that stops us before we even had a chance to start.But before I can say anything, Wes beats me to it.
“So, you know how you said you weren’t looking for anything long term?”he asks, tilting my chin up so I can see the reassuring look in his eyes that puts any uncertainty at ease.
Wes is made of stronger stuff than that.
So am I, it turns out.
“Yeah?”
“That’s a real deal-breaker for me, Jamie Prescott.”
I nod, moving my hands down to grip the remains of his shirt—mindful of his ribs—to pull him closer.
“Well,Detective Carpenter…” He closes his eyes when I murmur it, shaking his head and whispering a little “fuck” that would make me smile if I wasn’t tired and torn up inside.I wait until his eyes open again to say, “I’m willing to make an exception when it comes to the long-term thing.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.Not to spoil the ending…”
I have the opportunity to chicken out here.I have the chance to downplay this thing between us, to keep my expectations low so I don’t get disappointed.But of all the risks I’ve taken tonight, I know—without having to refer to some movie scene for comparison—this one will pay off.
“…but I think I’m gonna fall in love with you, too.”
If this was a rom-com, he would laugh, but everything is too real and too raw right now.Instead, he breathes in through his nose and exhales sharply, his hands tightening on my jaw before he pulls my mouth firmly onto his and kisses me like his life depends on it.
EPILOGUE
“Whatever you do… don’t fall in love.”
—NotA Nightmare on Elm Street
EIGHT MONTHS LATER
There’s movement outside of the bathroom.Not like someone is creeping around or trying to hide themselves, but normal apartment sounds.A door shutting.Keys hitting a counter.Shoes tumbling onto the floor.That still doesn’t stop me from freezing under the showerhead and listening more intently to the noises.If someone is stupid enough to break into my apartment, I feel positive, confident, in my ability to handle it.
