Page 42 of The Death of Kisses

The door to the activity room opened on a squeaky hinge and Lee pulled me into one of the supply closets. I grinned at him as he tried not to knock over a broom and we stood there waiting as the sounds of Hazel’s loud shoes walked down the hallway.

“Lillian, are you out here?” she asked.

“Eek” I gasped as Lee slapped his hand over my mouth.

He gave me a look that said “I’ll make you get caught”. I looked at him with wide eyes as his fingers pulled the edge of the sweat pants. The string obviously missing since no one wanted to give a suicidal girl a way out.

“No,” I hissed but he wasn’t listening, his fingers danced along my hipline as he teased the skin just under my waistband and I looked at him with wide eyes trying to be absolutely still. My skin pebbled with goosebumps as I reacted to his touch. His fingertips barely brushed my skin. Gentle.

Careful.

Familiar.

It reminded me of Charlotte holding my hair back as I threw up into the porcelain bowl after we drank too much. I pulled against his hand, he shook his head in warning. No. Taking a deep breath I forced myself to relax, it was only Lee, he’d never hurt me.

“Oh no, not again.” Hazel muttered as her footsteps quickly receded and Lee pulled his hand away from my waistband and kissed my cheek.

“Gotta go babes,” he winked before he was out the door. Leaving me in a closet utterly alone.

I didn’t move when the tears fell, didn’t pause to push away the hurt in his absence. I stood there crying letting the emotions tumble through me like a cloud letting loose the rain it’d been carrying for ages.

At some point the nurse walked me back to my cell, I called it a cell because it was easier to deal with than the mental instability. Three white pills later and a swallow of water that barely touched the itch at the back of my throat.

By the time the pills pulled me under, I couldn’t remember whether I’d cried because Lee had left or because tomorrow Charlie would come, and I’d have to lie to her all over again.

30

COFFEE

Present day - October 28th - Town of PineRidge - Population 5025 - 18 yr old

Charlie and I strolled through town after school, our hearts pounding with anticipation. Everywhere I looked, Halloween decorations exploded in a riot of color and spooky schemes, and I couldn’t help but wonder where all the time had gone—how had the season slipped away so quickly? Skeletons stood in an eerie procession along the streets, each dressed in different bizarre outfits for the elementary school’s Halloween contest, their hollow eyes seeming to whisper secrets. Fake cobwebs clung to the storefront windows, and pumpkins of every possible shape and size dotted the parking lots and street corners, their jagged grins glowing in the waning light.

As we wandered past the new gym—Charlie’s dad’s purchase since they moved—I felt a spark of curiosity ignite within me, but I knew she wasn’t ready to talk about her family. Still, I couldn’t help but feel a swell of affection for her, for how she cared so fiercely, for how she made everything brighter just by being there. We were practically inseparable, and in that moment, simply being with her felt like enough.

Charlie and I made our way toward the cozy little PineBrews, the town's beloved cafe, a place that suddenly felt both familiar and heavy with memories. It was the first time I’d stepped foot here since my mom passed away, and right now, being here with Charlie, I felt a weight begin to lift—like a fragile ray of hope piercing through the darkness. Minnie, the warm-hearted barista, took Charlie's order with her signature smile. She turned towards me, “Your usual?” she asked.

Before I could answer, Charlie spoke. “Large caramel latte, extra whipped cream.” I looked at her.

“How did you⁠—”

She shrugged as though the answer was obvious, “You like sweet things.”

I reached out, squeezing her hand with a silent gratitude that words couldn’t express. We found a seat by the window, and as I looked out at the kids and parents marveling at the Halloween displays, a flood of emotions washed over me—bittersweet memories, longing, but also a flicker of something hopeful stirring deep within.

“Ugh, I still don’t have a costume,” I sighed as I took a sip of my coffee, my voice tinged with frustration.

Charlie’s face lit up with a mischievous smile. “I already got one,” she said softly.

“You got me a costume?” I teased, laughing as she pulled a bag from the mix of items we’d gotten.

She reached into the shopping bag and handed it to me, her eyes twinkling with excitement. I eagerly untied the plastic, heart pounding with anticipation. Inside was black cargo pants, fierce combat boots, a sleek black hoodie, and at the bottom—an intimidating gas mask with menacing red highlights.

My hands throbbed as I tugged the mask forward, a burst of laughter escaping me. “What the hell am I supposed to be?” I asked, voice muffled but full of wonder.

Charlie just shrugged, a grin spreading across her face. “Whatever scares people.”

Without hesitation, I pulled the mask over my face, feeling a strange thrill. Charlie watched me intently as I looked outside at the town, which now shimmered in a strange, greyish hue, like someone had draped a film filter over my eyes. My stare flicked back to her, and I saw that goofy, genuine smile on her lips—her eyes alive with mischief and kindness.