Abby saw me in a way that could not be replicated. It was as if she could look through me, see my very soul and the color it took on. From the pale colors of innocence in our youth, to the dark blacks and blues that swirled in the depths of me being after Camden died. I wondered what color she would see now. If I had to guess, it would be the color of his emerald eyes.
No matter the color, she stood by me; she lifted me up when my world crashed down around me and rejoiced in my happiness as if it were her own. My sister was my soulmate. I knew this from the moment I laid eyes on her. She was a champion for my happiness, just as I was the protector of hers. I was certain no greater bond existed.
She was plucking about the kitchen like she was working up the courage to ask something, and I already knew she was staying the night, so I waited for her to find it. She finally turned to me. “So, Camden’s birthday is soon.” I stilled. His birthday, how could I forget? “I was just wondering if you want me here this year.”
We had a tradition for our birthdays—Camden and I would write a letter to each other about the year we had together, whatwe loved and cherished about our time, and the hopes we had for the year to come. First thing in the morning of our birthday, we would get to read it, and it was always my favorite gift to give him.
I hadn’t written a letter in two years, and that realization rained down on me, soaking me in instant misery and sorrow. It clung to every pore of my body, weighing me down, and that happiness I was just feeling seemed so far out of reach.
“Oh, umm no, that’s okay. I’ll be fine.” A weak smile played across my face. I wasn’t entirely sure she bought it, but she said nothing further.
I wouldn’t be fine, but she didn’t need to worry about this. I could handle it.
twenty-nine
Theo
If I could liveoff the sound of Lennon laughing, I would. I would keep her laughing until her cheeks were permanently stained pink and I would live forever. She threw her head back, and the red glow of Vince’s Pizza sign bathed her in its light. The summer night breeze picked up and the warm air rustled through her curls, blowing them back off her shoulders. It was tiny moments like this that had me thankful for whatever it was that brought us back together.
Pizza and Lennon go together, like cheese and pepperoni. It’d been her favorite as long as I had known her, a fact that I was happy to know never changed. I had been waiting to take her back to the one spot that’s been on my mind. For two teenagers with little to no money, you couldn’t do any better than Vince’s Pizza. We would sit outside under the tall oak trees and make up stories for the people we saw to pass the time.Those plastic chairs that linedthe outside of the building carried some of my favorite memories of Lennon.
The night was dripping in nostalgia as we sat in the outdoor seating. The table was draped in predictable red and white checkered fabric, with only our drinks remaining. Lennon dragged her finger through the condensation that had gathered on the side of her glass in a way that had chills flooding my body. She looked up and caught me staring, and there were zero parts of me that were ashamed.
“What?” she said as she arched one of her full eyebrows at me and leaned forward to rest her chin on her hand.
I didn’t answer. Instead, I grabbed the seat of her plastic chair and dragged her over to my side of the table. The way her breath hitched and the coy smile that crept across her face only encouraged me further as I wrapped my hand around the back of her neck and pulled her in close. Her eyes fluttered the moment my lips touched hers. My tongue traced the seam of her lips lightly, causing her to sigh and allowed me to deepen the kiss. She pressed her chest into mine, and it felt as if time had stopped.
I wondered if it would be like this every time we kissed. Would the world stop turning every time my lips were on her? If so, I was in trouble.
She pulled back, her mouth hovered millimeters from mine for a moment longer. “Thank you for bringing me here. It’s always been my favorite,” she whispered before placing another slow kiss against my lips. She was my favorite type of drug at this point, and I was on a constant high.
“I remember,” I said as I dragged my thumb across her jaw and down the column of her neck. She snorted out a laugh before plying me with another quick kiss. She was still pressed against me when I sensed someone freeze while walking by our table.
I looked over to see an older woman staring back at us. Her face was aged with lines and her dark brown hair fell in limp curls around her face. My eyebrows pinched inwards, my brain working in overdrive to figure out why I knew her face when Lennon tensed up under my arm. My head moved back and forth between the two women when it dawned on me.
Shit.
“Lennon,” the woman questioned. Her voice lacked any warmth. Lennon moved slightly from under my arm to turn and face her.
“Mom.” Her voice was like ice as she greeted her. Their relationship had been strained since the beginning. That was never a secret, and if I was being honest, it was a miracle both girls were as productive as they were. If I had a mother like Susan Faulkner, I might have gone off the deep end myself and never look for a way back. While I strived to not hate much of anything or anyone, this woman made all of that go out the window. Lennon never talks about her mom, for good reason, but I had no idea she still lived in the area.
One of my favorite things about Fairvale was that you get a small town feeling without being too far from all the city’s best necessities. It wasn’t a small in an everyone knew everyone type ofway, but in a you’re likely to run into someone you know once you’re out of the house type of way.
Susan’s eyes roamed over me, then widened slightly as she realized who I was. Her eyes pinged between us, noting the closeness of our bodies and the way my arm was draped across the back of Lennon’s chair. She jutted out her chin and squared her shoulders. I didn't know what she was about to do or say, but the way the hair on the back of my neck was standing up, I know it couldn’t be good.
“Well, don’t you two look cozy?” She then looked pointedly at her daughter. “Really, Lennon, your husband dies, and you find your way back to this boy?” She sneered, and at the same time, my body lit on fire with rage as my blood began to boil. I moved to stand, but Lennon pressed her hand onto my thigh to keep me seated. I glanced over, and she remained unfazed from years of practice, if I could guess.
“What I do with my life is none of your concern anymore, remember?” There was close to no emotion in her sentence; it was chilling. All traces of the Lennon I loved and admired were locked away to avoid the venom this woman spewed over everything.
I’d never given much thought to my upbringing, but never did I have any doubts that my parents loved me or that they wouldn’t flip the world on its axis to help me. It was easy for me to assume it was like that for every kid. I was rudely awakened to different ways as I grew closer to Lennon as a teenager. There were endless nights where I would hold Lennon while she cried over her mother,watched as she begged to be loved by her, and now, it was clear that it was all for nothing.
My head was reeling, trying to wrap itself around the interaction happening in front of me. Having to witness Lennon fight for every scrap of affection from this woman, and the hoops she jumped through for Abby, broke my heart, and I was only a bystander. A person could only imagine what the years of exposure had done to her heart.
Susan scoffed at her statement. “If I remember correctly, he left you once before. I doubt whatever game of house you’re playing now is enough to keep him this time.”
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
“You need to leave. Now,” I barked out. My voice was completely unrecognizable to even myself.
