Page 3 of The Honor Society

Great. I was hoping for dead.

Kidding.

Maybe.

My organs have to be all but gone at this point with how swollen my body feels. The smell of antiseptic makes my stomach lurch. Blood I can handle, bleach I leave for the cleaners. But this weird hospital smell reminds me of the sort of death I deal others not the kind I ever want to exist in.

I struggle to blink my eyes open, sandpaper must be coating the inside of my lids. Maybe this really is hell. Perfect. The sound of a gun going off fills my ears as loudly as the machines beeping to my left. To my right I can feel the IV stuck into the top of my hand like it’s both nourishing me and sucking the blood from my body even though I know logically that’s not how it works. Footsteps sound, several pairs of them.

I decide to keep my eyes shut. For fanfare, a bit of drama, and curiosity. Besides, I may be awake but I have questions and I’ve often learned it’s mostly in the silence where you get your answers. “Doc,” Jude’s voice carries through the room. “You said he’s awake, he’s not even moving.”

“Jude.” Lilah’s voice is quieter. “Give the man time, plus you know Axel takes his time in everything, didn’t you say he was in pull ups past the age of five.”

My lips twitch. “Bullshit.”

God even my voice sounds horrible, like I haven’t used it in a decade. Fuck just how long was I taken out for? Is that normal for fatal wounds? I would laugh at my own joke but it’s not funny. Not really.

I mean, for one, the girl I was falling in love with and truly thinking about asking to move in with me, fucking shot me not once, twice. Once is an accident, twice is let’s make sure it’s dead sort of scenario, not cool.

Two, nobody really knows who I am and what I do because for the last seven years I’ve been living a double life

Three, I had been hours away from sharing that life with her only to drop to my knees for a completely different reason. Blood spewed out of my body instead of words of love and adoration. I snort, something sure poured out it just wasn’t my heart or soul, it was my actual life, into a puddle at her feet in ginormous gushing amounts.

I thought I’d finally found my forever.

Until she gave me my end.

Fuck.

And yet I still hoped she was okay. Maybe that’s a little messed up, I may need therapy.

I decide not to keep them in suspense and blink open my eyes. “Aw, you guys got me flowers?”

“Me.” Lilah shoves away from Jude. “I got you flowers. He bought you a bottle of whiskey despite the doctor saying you shouldn’t drink.”

“Marry me.” I ignore Lilah and bat my eyelashes at Jude. “Think about it man, I might just get drunk enough to feel you up and like it.”

“Drop dead.” Jude jokes.

“Too soon.” I cackle anyway, it hurts like hell. “Way too soon.” Why wasn’t I on an IV drip of pain meds? Should I feel this shitty?

Jude looks exhausted, so does Lilah. They know I recognize them, and they’re here, but Charlie? The one who shot me isn’t.

She could be in prison.

She could be at the apartment.

It all depends on who she knows, and what ties she has, which means, I can’t and shouldn’t show all my cards.

Not now.

Which means lying. Especially if Jude gave her the piece of paper I pulled from The Dean’s List. Handy, that, I mean, I had my reasons for pulling it, yes keeping her safe, but also keeping my identity and hers a secret—for now.

Which, brings me back to lying.

I’m fucking good at it, I just feel guilty going through with it knowing Jude’s stressed out and knowing Lilah’s right there with him. They just got over all this trauma and then the house of cards came crashing down.

I caused this. They have no clue how much of it. The guilt is all encompassing, choking. I fed them crumbs, I let them reunite, I let them fight together, all in love. It was a masterpiece, both my deception and my double life.