"McKenzie?" my mother asked, her voice already tight with fear. She could tell there was something wrong. She stood up immediately and I practically fell into her arms as I stumbled toward her. "McKenzie, tell me what's wrong," she cried, falling to the floor with me.
"Cory," I sobbed, unable in that moment to say the words.
"Sweetie, please, tell me what's wrong." My mother sounded almost as panicked as I felt.
"Cory and Mr. Wallace. They're dead." My arms were around my mother's waist, my face against her lap, my body flat on the floor.
"What?" my father asked, appearing almost immediately at my side. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know. A police officer showed up and just told Mrs. Wallace both Cory and Mr. Wallace were killed in a robbery." I said the words into my mother's thigh, but I knew they'd heard me, knew they were probably just as confused as I was.
"We have to go over there," my mother whispered. "Edward," she continued, her hand rubbing smooth circles over my back, "if this is true, we need to be there for her." I heard my mother's words, her voice crumbling at the end, felt her body shake with silent cries. "Oh, my God, Edward, this can't be happening."
My father picked us both up, and somehow we made it back over to the Wallaces'. There were a few more police cars parked on the street around their house, and some of the neighbors had come out of their houses, standing in their yards, watching, as if it were a spectator sport.
The door was slightly ajar and my mother gently pushed it open, calling out, "Chelsea?"
"Luce?" I heard Mrs. Wallace cry out, then I watched as the two best friends ran for each other, both sobbing. "They're dead," she cried. "My baby boy, he's gone."
I felt my father's arm come around my shoulder, pulling me into his side. I looked up at him, saying, "Daddy, I don't feel so well," and then everything went black.
Chapter Four
McKenzie
When I woke, everything was still dark, but there was faint moonlight filtering in through a window. I blinked, trying to figure out where I was, whose bed I was in, when I heard rustling behind me. I turned my head, rolling fully onto my back, and could see the outline of a man. He turned in my direction, then started moving toward me. I sat up, ready to run, when I heard his voice.
"Kenz, it's okay. It's me, Hayes."
"Hayes?" I was so confused. So many things were running through my mind at the same time that my head started to pound. "Why are you here? Where am I?"
He came all the way to the bed, sitting on the very edge next to my knees. "Did no one tell you?" he asked, voice heavy with sorrow. Suddenly, all the sadness came rushing back. I'd forgotten, but only for one moment, and I knew I'd probably never have that luxury again. There would most likely never be a moment in my life where I wasn't painfully aware that Cory was gone.
"He's gone," I whispered, throat pinched painfully as tears threatened. "This can't be real." Arms wrapped around me in the dark and I was pulled into Hayes, my cheek pressed against his chest where I could feel his breaths stumbling out and faltering back in. He cried silently, never making a sound. What started as a soft cry, trying to comfort me, slowly melted into Hayes rocking back and forth, silently screaming, mouth gaping, and me being the one holding him.
His hands started as smooth waves across my skin, wrapping around me like a blanket, but soon they were clawing at me, desperately trying to sink into me, as if I were the only thing keeping him from slipping away.
When it seemed like the worst of the waves had passed, he pulled away, his body slowly drifting from mine, the space between us full of grief and sadness.
"I'm sorry," he said, finally speaking after heavy dragging moments of silence.
"You don't have to apologize," I whispered even though I didn't intend to. I wanted to sound strong, as if I meant the words with everything I possessed, because I did.
"Yeah, well," he said, sighing as he stood from the bed, "I didn't mean to come in here and disturb you."
Looking around the dark room, I realized I still didn't know exactly where I was. "Where am I? And how did I get here?"
"You're in my bedroom."
His words registered in my mind and I realized I must be in his bed. It was completely inappropriate the way my body responded to that thought.
I vaguely remembered feeling faint and my father taking me to the back of the house. He had started to head for Cory's room, but I didn't want to be there.
There had been so many lazy afternoons spent napping in Cory's bed, so many late nights when both our parents thought I was at home when I was really lying with him. We'd fall asleep together, setting an alarm to wake us up before dawn so I could sneak back into my own bedroom. I was torn. His bed sounded like the only safe place in the world, but it also felt like it could be the saddest.
Hayes's bed had been comfortable, until I'd realized its owner. Now it felt electric.
"I should probably go see my parents. They're still here?"
"Yes. My mom … ." I watched as his shadowed hand came up and ran through his hair. "She's a mess."
I didn't want to go out there. "I should go out there."
"Hey," Hayes said as I started to stand up and regain my bearings. "Are you all right?"
I shrugged even though I didn't know if he could see me. "I don't know. One minute he was here. He was talking and breathing and living, and then someone I've never seen tells me he's gone. It feels like a lie right now, like it can't be possible."
"Well, it's not a lie, Kenz." His voice was tinged with anger, but I didn't think he was angry with me.
"I know. I'm so sorry."
He let out a loud sigh, then said, "Come on, I'll walk back with you." He cracked the door and light slipped into the room, illuminating everything. I walked past him as he opened the door. His hand just barely brushed the small of my back as I passed, gently guiding me through the door. My breath halted as my lungs seized. It had been two years, almost to the hour, since I'd felt Hayes's hands on me, and I'd forgotten their power, forgotten the way they'd lit me on fire. I'd never forgotten how guilty his hands had made me feel, but nothing could have prepared me for the shame of liking his hands on me in the wake of his brother's death.
I hated myself in that moment.
We walked into the living room and I saw my parents and Mrs. Wallace sitting around the table in the dining room attached to the kitchen. They all had coffee mugs sitting in front of them, and used tissues were scattered on the table.
"McKenzie," Mrs. Wallace said, standing and opening her arms to me. I let her hug me, but honestly I was afraid I'd break her. She sounded fragile and I wasn't sure how she managed to seem so put together. "Are you okay, sweetheart?"
"I don't know," I replied honestly.
"You scared us, baby," my mom said, giving me a sad smile.
I took in a deep breath, then let it out, not sure what I was supposed to say next. I wasn't even sure where we all went from here. I took one of the empty seats around the table. "I can't believe this is happening."
"I don't think any of us have really processed this yet," my dad offered. "But it's important that Chelsea and Hayes know we're here for them." He looked at Hayes, who had stopped in the kitchen and was now leaning back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. "I'm serious, Hayes. You need anything at all, you call us. That goes for you too, Chelsea." Hayes gave a very slight nod of his head, indicating he'd heard my dad, but giving nothing else away, while Mrs. Wallace gave the saddest weakest smile I'd ever seen. She looked terrible, exactly how I'd imagine a woman who'd just been told her husband and son were dead would look.
Her hair, which had been pulled into a tight ponytail, was now just a loose bundle of hair at the nape of her neck with half her hair hanging around her face. Her eyes were red and puffy, her nose a deep shade of pink, and her hands shook slightly as she lifted a tissue to it.
"I'm afraid to go to sleep," she said quietly. "This was the last day they were alive." Her voice dissolved around her words, quaking more and more. "If I go to sleep, I'll wake up, and it will be the first day they're both dead." She dropped her head into her hands, crying in earnest, quiet sobs slipping from her. "I don't want to live in the world I'll wake up in tomorrow."
The tears slipped down my cheeks before I realized I was crying. I hadn't had any time to process what had happened, and suddenly it felt more real than it had before.
Cory was gone.
And he was never coming back.
I had never, not for one single day, gone without a best friend. Cory had always been there. From the beginning. And now I'd have to live the rest of my life without him. It was as though I had been reading a picture book and all the pages were in color, but now the rest of them were just dreary images in black and gray. What had once been a vivid depiction of a beautiful story, a story of a friendship so deep even the word friends couldn't contain it, was now a dark charcoal, and each page seemed like it weighed a ton, dripping with wet concrete.