I frown, my lips parting. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “What? You’ve got to be kidding me.” Tears well up in my eye, but I blink them away. “I can’t believe you’re saying this.”

He grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Look at me.” He lifts his shirt and shows me the tattoo on his chest. It’s some sort of bird with a skull in the middle. It makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up just looking at it. Why is he doing this? And more importantly, how? It’s illegal at our age, so some questionable joint must’ve done it. I shouldn’t care, but I do. I care a lot.

“Does this look like something you want to see?”

“I don’t mind …” I shrug. “I just think you’re focusing on the wrong things.”

“I’m focusing on what I want.” He leans in, placing his other hand above my head and trapping me. “Maybe you should do the same once in a while. It’s much healthier.”

“Are you suggesting that I’m not doing what’s healthy for me? Because those piercings are obviously proof of your knowledge,” I sneer.

“Hmm …” He smiles, and his tongue dips out to lick his piercing, which causes goosebumps to appear all over my body. I’m transfixed by the way he tugs on it, and it makes me want to touch it. Goddammit.

“You know what I think? I think you’re just jealous,” he muses.

“Jealous?” I say, shocked. “Of what?”

“Of the fact that I can do whatever the hell I please, and you’re stuck doing what Mommy and Daddy demand.”

That’s it. He’s gone and done it now. Rage is filling up my veins, and before I know it, my fist is right up in his face, making contact.

For a moment, all the people in the hallway stop in their tracks, and I have a feeling they’re all looking at us. Nobody flinches, not even Miles himself. As I take my fist off him, I turn around and run into the nearest bathroom.

Oh, god. Oh, god. Oh, god. I can’t believe I just did that.

I stare into the mirror, wondering what in the hell is wrong with me. Why in the hell did I do that? Why do I let him piss me off so much?

I turn on the faucet and splash some of the water on my face before wiping it off with a clean towel.

Someone knocks on the door, and I look up and wait. My heart is pounding when I hear his voice.

“Vanessa … please come out.”

I don’t know what to say because nothing is an excuse for what I did. And yet, I’m too terrified to go out there because I fear he’ll hit me back.

I don’t know why I’d think that, but somehow, I do. Maybe it’s because of that redheaded kid he beat up, the one trying to bully us. Something about Miles makes me cower, and that’s not me at all. I always feel on top of my game, except when I look at him. When I do, all I see is hurt, fear, anxiety, and above all, anger. It’s like he could lash out at any time. This fear has me in its grasp. Almost as if it has power over me.

I can’t let it win.

I straighten my back and pat down my clothes before I walk out the door right when the bell rings.

Miles just stands there, his eyebrows almost touching each other, his chest going up and down as he heaves, probably attempting to calm himself down as he always does.

I swallow away the lump in my throat. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t be. I had it coming.” He narrows his eyes. “We both know this isn’t working.”

“Yeah …” I say, still leaning against the door as if it’s going to provide me with protection.

“But here’s the thing. I don’t want to stop being friends with you,” he says, making me hold my breath. “I’m trying to be myself and be worthy of your friendship.”

“But you are …” I mutter.

“No.” He takes a step forward. “That’s the whole point. I’m never going to be good enough.”

“What? How can you say that about yourself?”

“Look at us,” he shouts. “Look at your grades, all A’s. Now look at mine … I’m glad if I can get a C.”

“But I know you can do so much better,” I say, cocking my head. “I can help you.”

“No, you can’t. It’s not what you do; it’s what I can’t do.” There’s a certain pain in his voice; it stings so badly that it hurts my soul.

“But—”

“No, there is no but.” He steps even closer, placing his hand on the door. “You don’t get it. I can’t change. I can’t make it work. This is not me.” He fishes in my front pocket and takes out the pen. “That’s you.” Then he puts it back and lifts his shirt, showing me his tattoo again. “This is me.”

“So?” I say.

“We’re different, and we’ll always be. We’re not from the same environment. I can’t be what you want me to be. I can’t ever be good enough for you. Nothing will change that.”

I shake my head because I hate the way this conversation is going. It’s as if he wants to end everything with me, whatever it is that we have. “You’re wrong.”

He places another hand on the door, blocking me from leaving. Not that I was going anywhere at this rate because I don’t care about class right now. All I care about is him.

“Why am I not good enough?” He leans in. “No matter what I do. Is it your parents? Your future? Your own wishes?”

I don’t have the answers he seeks. All I know is that he’s right. It’s everything.

He leans in so close that I can feel his hot breath on my lips. I close my eyes, my body shuddering from the close proximity of his mouth. God, I can almost imagine him kissing me again. It was a long time ago, but I’ve been thinking about it every single day. It’s all I want, but it’s wrong … so wrong. I can’t be with him. I can’t want him. I’m not allowed.

“It’s all of those things, isn’t it?” he whispers, making me suck in a breath.

I nod, intoxicated by his smell. I want it. I can’t have it, but I want it so badly.

“I’ll show you that I’m good enough. You just wait and see,” he whispers. “One day.”

And then the warmth turns into cold ice as he walks away, leaving me in shambles.

CHAPTER 15

PHOENIX

Present

I had to pull out of that situation. I could feel my heart beating again, which is never a good sign. Not when she’s saying things like that.

Fuck. I never knew her parents forced her to marry Phillip. Then again, I’m not sure how much of that sob story I should believe. However, I do recall something from a particular conversation we once had, back in the old days. It was on that spot we always shared our secrets, the place in the meadows, far away from the road. The place I almost buried a body. Now it leaves a tangy taste in my mouth just thinking about it.

I remember every last detail of our encounters back in school as vivid as if they happened just days ago. As I storm down the stairs, I keep thinking … what if things had gone differently? What if we’d made different choices? Would I still be the killer? Would she still be the conniving bitch she is now? Would we hate or love each other?

I can’t imagine myself feeling anything but loathing for her. Maybe it’s the anger talking. Or maybe it’s all those memories I’ve stored somewhere … memories of a time when I wanted something I couldn’t ever have.

***

Age 16

 

She walks around school with another guy on her arms. Whenever she passes me, I make a fist, trying to hold myself back. Rage boils through me, filling my bones with hatred toward her boyfriend and even Vanessa herself. Sometimes, I just wish I could tell her to stop. Scream in her face. Maybe it’ll wake her up.

But then I realize she was never mine to begin with.

Even when I thought she was. When I thought I still had a chance.

What a fucking joke.

I slam my locker shut and try to focus on something other than the girl flaunting her goods. I pick up my lighter and a joint and walk outside so I can be on my own for a second. This the only way I can truly relax. It stops me from thinking about what the fuck I’m doing in school anyway. I don’t belong here. I don’t have brains. All I have is muscle and a wicked sense of justice. Not something people want or need … unless you’re into shady practices. But maybe that’s what I’m supposed to do. Who knows.