Instead of You(26)

When the front door opened and my mother walked through, followed closely by my father, I let out a relieved sigh. Time alone was making my brain run at hyper speed.

“I’m sorry we’re so late, sweetie. Chelsea was a mess again.”

“I know. I probably didn’t help. I kind of bailed on her.” I did feel badly about running out on her. She had no idea the real reason I ran, and I could only imagine how much pain she thought I was in.

My mother gave me a sad look and then her and my father sat down at the table. “Honey, we saw the ring.” Her words were in the same sympathetic tone I’d grown used to, the same voice so many people had used to speak to me that day.

“Do you want to talk about it?” This came from my father, the same man who’d made me wait until I was sixteen to even go on a date or have a boyfriend. If Cory were alive and had given me a promise ring, I knew he wouldn’t be sitting across from me at the table trying to have a rational conversation with me about it. Funny how death changed everything.

“I don’t think there’s much to say about it,” I replied. “It doesn’t change anything. It just kind of makes it sadder, ya know?” I dropped my pencil on the table and let out a big sigh. “He was probably really excited to give that ring to me—whatever it meant.” I paused and looked down at my hands. “But he never got the chance to give it to me. There’s so much he never got to do.”

“What about you?” my mother asked gently.

“What about me?” Her question confused me.

“What about everything you’re missing out on?” I must have had a perplexed look on my face because she continued. “What about everything you’ll never get to do with Cory? How are you feeling about that aspect of it all?”

I shrugged. “We all lost something that day. But what bothers me the most is what Cory lost. And, I suppose, what Mrs. Wallace and Hayes lost too. When I look at who all has been affected by their murder, I can’t feel sorry for myself.”

“You’re a good kid,” my dad says, still with a sad smile across his face.

“Did you get to eat dinner?” Mom asks.

“I ate with Hayes.” I tried not to let my face flush at the mention of his name. I didn’t really know exactly what was going on between us, but I knew no one—especially our parents—would understand.



We spent the next hour as normally as any other evening at my house. My parents ate dinner at the table while I worked on homework. My father asked about school and I explained how uncomfortable the whole day had been, but also expressed that I was optimistic it would fade with time. I did not tell my parents Hayes was my new history teacher. I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep from blushing or stumbling over words and decided to avoid the topic altogether.

As if he could tell I was thinking about him, my phone pinged.

**My mom is still pretty upset. Once she settles down and goes to sleep I’ll come over. Will you meet me on your porch?**

**Sure. My parents should be in bed in about an hour. Is your mom going to be all right?**

**I hope so. See you soon.**

There was no way to concentrate on schoolwork after his message, but I tried. I sat at the table until my parents decided to go to bed, staring at homework and feigning concentration. When they finally said their good nights, I let out a relieved sigh, feeling as though I’d gotten away with something.

I packed up my bag and went upstairs. I pulled a hoodie over my head, slipped on my Converse, made sure the bun on top of my head looked messy but not too messy, and I waited.

Finally, his message came, asking me to meet him at my front door.

My heart was cartwheeling around my chest, the thumping of its beat pulsing all the way to my fingertips. I sneaked to the front door, opening it slowly, then sliding outside into the darkness. I saw Hayes’s silhouette, his back toward me, turning quickly when he heard me step outside.

There’d been a split second where I panicked about whether or not the kissing in the rain had been a mistake, worried that he’d come over to tell me what we’d done was wrong and couldn’t happen again. But he hardly let those fears take root before he pulled me to him and kissed me again.

When he pulled away, it was only his lips he took from me, his arms still wrapped around me, body still pressed close.

“Hey,” he said, and I could have sworn he sounded shy. Hayes. Shy. He’d never been anything but confident, sometimes cocky to the point of eye rolling. I couldn’t believe that Hayes might have been feeling the same nerves I was, the same apprehension, asking the same questions as I was.

Was it really happening?

Could we really do this?

After all that time?

“Hey,” I replied. “I can’t believe you’re here.” My words came out as breathy whispers.

“I can’t believe I can kiss you whenever I want.” With that he leaned in again and pressed a quick but swoon-worthy kiss against my mouth. “God, Kenz, I waited two years between kisses, and now I can just, I don’t know, kiss you. It feels surreal.”

“It’s surreal that you even thought about kissing me in the last two years.” I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped me. At my words, his hand that was wrapped around the side of my neck gently tightened.

“I’ve thought about you every single day for years, Kenz.”