When I unlock my phone and read the message, a bolt of surprise hits me.
Keira:I MISS YOU, BITCH! It’s been way too long!!
Chewing on my bottom lip, I consider how and evenifI want to reply.
There was a time when Keira and I were close, though it was a friendship of convenience more than anything. She was one of very few people who knew me before the incident and still treated me the same after. To her discredit, I’m not sure she really cared about my parents’ deaths. She was too self-involved to ask for details or question how I was coping. Ultimately,though, it was nice to not be viewed as the girl whose parents were brutally murdered, so I clung to our friendship with a lot more gusto than I would have under different circumstances.
We grew closer while I was on my own, attending university near our hometown while the guys were in Verchamp playing for the Scorpions.
Keira loved to go out and party. I loved to go out and forget.
I consider her more of an accomplice than a true friend. Rarely did I trust or even expect her to look out for me. But she was always up for whatever, and there wasn’t a vice she wouldn’t try.
Before I can work out how I want to reply, she texts again.
Keira:So listen. JD and I are coming to the States this weekend for some party. It’s in a place called Akron. I think it’s close to where you’re going to school now.
Akron?
That has to be the party Cam and Arjun were talking about earlier. While I’m surprised they’d come all this way for a party, it’s not totally strange, I suppose, considering JD’s occupation. He’s a DJ—yes, a DJ named JD—but he’s also a recreational drug dealer. Akron must be expecting huge crowds if he’s willing to travel to another country to push product.
With another look around to ensure Cam isn’t nearby, I type out a quick reply.
Sawyer: Hi! How are you? I miss you, too! I heard about that party, actually. I was thinking about going.
Keira: Kismet. JD wants to know if you want to meet up. And if we could crash at your place afterward.
I scrunch my nose. I’m not super keen on hosting two people in my dorm. Especially these two people. If Keira and JD aren’t fighting, they’re fucking. I’d rather not be in the middle of their drama. But seeing them would provide the kind of distraction I could really use right now.
Maybe reconnecting with Keira is what I need to take my mind off Tytus, Noah, and Mercer. A party a few towns over where very few people know who I am or who I’m related to would be the perfect outlet to blow off steam.
Sawyer: I don’t have much space at my dorm to host, but we can definitely meet up. Text me your travel plans. See you Saturday!
Chapter sixteen
Mercer
My fingertips burn as I strum along to Bon Iver’s “Holocene,” but when the painful sensation registers as satisfying, I freeze, swallow thickly, and lay the guitar on the bed beside me.
It’s been sixteen days.
Sixteen days of resistance. Abstinence. Treading lightly. Holding back.
Sixteen days of fighting the intrusive thoughts.
Sixteen days without cutting. That somehow feels more significant than the fourteen years before.
Mostly, I’m doing it for Noah.
For his sanity. For his sense of hope.
He’s a natural caregiver. He lives to serve and he’s been disproportionately proud of me with each passing day.
As detached as I am from my own sense of self, disappointing Noah isn’t an option.
I’ve been staying here, in my room at the orchard, since the incident. As much as it pains me to trek past the barn every day on my way to and from campus, being alone isn’t a safe option right now.
There’s also a sliver of hope niggling at the back of my mind.
