When Our Worlds Stand Still (Our Worlds #3)(38)

Amanda cuts her off. “Finish that sentence, and Kennedy will slit your throat. Trust me.”

The distant gleam in Amanda’s eyes makes me laugh at the memory we are both reliving. I stare ahead at the large mirror in front of us. Violet and Amanda giggle along with me. Only true friends can laugh about the same unspoken joke.

“Am I missing something?” Bea leans forward, addressing all of us.

“Kennedy punched Amanda right after Graham left for Georgia,” Violet recalls the day.

“I’m not a complete psychopath. I’d just wept in Graham’s driveway all morning. He drove away, and when I get home, they’re waiting for me.” I jerk my thumb to Amanda and Violet.

“So, what happened?” Bea asks, handing her nail polish to the quiet pedicurist on a short stool in front of her.

“We got her drunk, as any good friends would.” Violet laughs. “Vodka was our confidant that night.” She hands her polish down. “And then, in the middle of a night of giggles and jokes, Amanda took it upon herself to remind Kennedy that most high school loves don’t work out anyway, so what’s the point of fussing over it, especially when the guy is as hot as Graham?” Violet explains.

“And then she gave me a black eye. End of story.” Amanda hangs her head.

“Not end of story,” Violet intervenes with a loud hoot. “I had to remove her from on top of you. She latched onto you and wouldn’t let go.”

Bea’s eyes are wide with surprise when she glances at me. “Did you really?”

“I’d gotten Graham back for a minute, and it felt like he was slipping away again. I was scared and unaware, and I took it out on Amanda’s face.” I shrug, taking full responsibility for my actions. At the time, it felt really nice to let out the pent-up aggression.

“And my hair. If I remember, I had to cover a little bald spot with a hideous deep part for months.” Amanda sits forward.

“Since we’re talking about the boys, Amanda, what about Rick?” I raise a curious eyebrow.

“Why do you call him Rick when everyone calls him Rico?” Violet asks, interrupting my interrogation.

My mind wanders a bit, contemplating my need to call him by his given name. “Rico’s who he is now, but someday he’s going to be Rick. I like to see people for who they’ll be, not for who they’re trying to convince themselves they are at this point in their lives.” It’s the same way I let Graham into my life, on the pretense of who he is capable of being, not the person he’d pretended to be in high school.

A playful groan escapes Violet’s mouth. “You’re such a romantic, Ken.” She pats my leg, and I reach for her hand. Sometimes you need the stability of a sturdy hand, and no one is more grounded than my best friend.

Once our polish is dry, we grab lunch and do a little shopping. By a little shopping, I mean Violet drags us into every store imaginable. By the time we convince her it’s time to leave, it’s dark outside. On the way back to the house, I answer Graham’s text saying he’s going to spend time with Ben. When my phone rings, I think it’s him, but my mom’s name pops up on the screen.

“Hey, Mom. How’s it going?” I ask after pushing accept.

“Hey, sweetie. What are you doing? How’s your trip going?” she asks. I hear a rustling noise in the background, maybe flipping pages.

“The girls and I just finished getting our toenails done. The trip’s good. Graham lives in Connecticut,” I blurt the last part and hear a loud spewing of liquid. “Mom, did you just spit out your drink?”

“Did you just say Graham lives in Connecticut?”

“Sure did, but it’s too much to talk about right this second. I’ll call you when I’m back in the city,” I instruct. “I’ll talk to you soon. Love you. Bye.”

“No, honey, don’t hang up.”

I hear her but do it anyway.

When we pull into the driveway, Graham’s car is gone, and I wonder if he’s still with Ben. Bea runs upstairs in search of Mark, and Violet shouts for Dan. Exhausted from the morning, I sit down on the couch and wrap a blanket around me, flipping through the channels on the TV. Fatigue takes over, and I slip down the cushions and my eyes close to darkness.

Like usual, I welcome the quiet black of sleep.

Until I don’t anymore.





“Where have you been?” Dan startles me as I slink through the back door.

I throw my bag on the counter and take off my baseball hat. When I pull out a stool to sit, I turn to him.

“I went to visit one of the boys at the house. He had a bad night, so I went to check on him.” Dan shakes his head and smirks. “What?” I ask.

“It’s nothing.” He glances through the kitchen doorway. “She’s sleeping on the couch.”

I lean over the island, but my vantage point is blocked by the open hallway closet door. “How long has she been out?”

“Close to an hour or so.” Dan takes a bite of the sandwich in front of him.

I hear a blood-curdling scream, followed by a loud protest.

“No … no … don’t do this.”

The stool beneath me falls to the floor as I race out of the kitchen, Dan fast on my heels. When I burst into the living room, Rico is hovering over Kennedy. She kicks and screams, but her movements are random and uncontrolled.