So here I sit at the final chapter of my senior year, the last ten minutes of the series, and I’ve decided for once, I will choose myself. I didn’t get a love story, or even a happy ending, but I won’t close the book empty-handed.
After all, every ending is a new beginning, right?
My fingers hover over the keyboard as I take a deep breath. When I start to type, I imagine in the limited-series version of my life, the camera would zoom into the screen as the letters began to appear one by one on the page, the blinking cursor pausing at the end.
Here Lie All the Boys Who Broke My Heart
Chapter 34
Asher
“Let me guess,” Wesley says from behind me. “It’s your fault that Sloane just stormed out of the house crying?”
I drop her journal back into the box that I carelessly left out and quickly wipe away the water welling up in my own eyes before I turn to face my cousin. I want to tell him to fuck off. I want to tell him it’s not his business, but when he steps forward and flinches slightly at the pain still in his side, I realize it is his business. What would he say if I told him the truth? That it wasn’t just Annica that betrayed him, but his own flesh and blood.
“Yes, it’s my fault,” I say, locking my hands together on my head and taking a breath. I stare up at the ceiling and Wes stands in the doorway waiting for an explanation. “I have to tell you something.”
“Shoot,” Wes says.
“I...” I choke on the words as my future flashes before me. Wesley would tell the family, and would they be shocked to find out that Ben’s son almost let his cousin die in order to take over the business? No, probably not. But that would be it. That wouldbe the nail in the coffin. I wouldn’t have the resort, and I wouldn’t have Sloane, and after all that happened just to get to this point... “I think she would’ve been better off with you. I’m sorry that I got in between that.”
I watch as Wes tries not to roll his eyes, pushing off the frame. “Right,” he says, turning to leave.
“Wes,” I call after him. “I really am sorry for everything that happened this year. I’m sorry.”
His eyes narrow slightly, and I can tell he’s trying to figure out if this is a genuine apology. It makes me hate myself even more than I already do. “Whatever, man.”
He turns to go back to the party, and I let out the breath I was holding. The one that should’ve contained the truth. But again, just like everything else in my life, I fucked it all up.
I finish packing up my things in silence, the whole time picturing Sloane’s face when she found out the truth, and how I wish I could go back in time and never put the journal in that box. No, fuck, I wish I could go back to the moment Annica stormed into my bedroom with that journal in hand. When I close my eyes I can still hear the way she raged over Sloane and Wesley. And dammit, I should’ve known better. I truly made a deal with the devil that day.
I pick up my phone, the only thing not packed away, as I lie in bed and try calling Sloane. It rings five times before going to voicemail. I text her with another useless apology and watch as it says delivered. She hasn’t blocked my number. Not yet anyway.
I hand the last box off to the moving company that’s driving my stuff back to Colorado and check my phone again. By now I’ve calledand texted Sloane a handful of times, even leaving her a voicemail. I can’t remember the last time I ever left someone a voicemail. But it’s been almost twenty-four hours since she left my room and I still haven’t gotten a reply. A loud thump catches my attention as the two movers lifting my piano into the truck drop one end of it.
“Dude, I said be careful with the fucking piano!” I yell.
“I wouldn’t be so rude to the people moving your most prized possessions across the country for you,” I hear Danielle say from beside me.
I only shake my head, putting away my phone so she can’t see the embarrassing amount of texts and calls I’ve left Sloane.
“Still haven’t heard from her?” she asks.
“No,” I sigh. “Have you?”
“No,” she says. “I think she just needs some alone time. That’s usually how she is after a breakup.”
“I asked her to come with me,” I tell Danielle. Her raised eyebrows tell me that Sloane didn’t tell her that. Perhaps because she never intended to go.
“When is your flight?” she asks me.
“Tomorrow at two.”
“Then there’s still plenty of time to fix it.” She pats my arm before walking into the house.
By 6 p.m. my room is as empty as the day we moved in and my time at Pembroke is officially over. I say my final goodbyes to the boys, who all promise to come up to ski next season. Though we all know that if Wes doesn’t go, Jake, Sam, and Charlie won’t either. They were always his friends more than mine.
Danielle gives me a hug and starts to cry. “It’s really over,” she sniffs. “We’re all leaving.”
