We Told Six Lies(67)

“You’re better off without me,” you said, your lip curled in anger.

You turned to walk out, but I jumped into your path, because honestly, if you walked out on me after what just happened between us on the floor of this house, I’d combust.

“Tell me you want me to leave you alone and I will,” I challenged.

“Get out of my way,” you replied.

“No,” I said.

“Cobain.”

“Molly.”

You shoved me again.

I didn’t move a fucking inch.

Your eyes flicked toward the back wall, and I should have seen it coming. Should have, but didn’t.

You ran.

You ran, and for all my strength, I didn’t have half your agility or speed.

You were out the door in a flash, and I was chasing after you.

In a matter of seconds, you’d cut through the trees, your stocking-free legs ripping through the underbrush.

Every turn you made, I made. Every stone you leaped over, I flew over as well.

I didn’t know what I’d do when I caught you.

But I knew you were crazy. Crazier than me. And beautiful as your white hair sliced through the darkness. I was chasing a toxic addiction. A mindless tornado. A possible sociopath. I should stop, I knew. Let you run until you leaped off a cliff and your broken body lay at the bottom. But I knew I’d never stop. And if that cliff came into view and I saw you fly through the air like a gazelle, I’d leap right over the edge with you.

“Molly!” I roared.

Do you remember me roaring your name?

I remember, Molly.

I remember growing more frenzied the farther you ran. I remember a new sound.

Someone else?

Someone else.

The ground tore open my feet as I raced after you, but the pain escaped me. All I could think of was catching up to you. All I could think of was holding you in my arms and kissing you and telling you, It’s okay. See? I didn’t let you go. That’s what you wanted. You wanted me to keep you, and that’s what I’m gonna do and is that a sound no it’s just me and you forever, forever.

I caught you.

I hugged you to my chest.

I may have held you too tightly.

I may have yelled too loudly.

I pulled you away, and I was so angry and so in love and so full of emotions that needed an outlet.

“Let her go.”

My mind cleared, and I realized I was standing—barefoot, shirtless, jacketless—in the heart of winter, and Nixon was going, What the fuck, man?

And you were going, We had a fight. It’s okay, Nixon. It’s okay.

And I was going Molly, listen to me.

“I’m sorry, Cobain,” you said. Those were the first words that really stopped the world from spinning.

“Let’s go back to the house,” Nixon said.

I started to come, too, one hand on my head, and Nixon said, “No, man. You stay back here for a while. Give her some space.”

And I looked at Nixon, who was applying for a weight-lifting scholarship at the Air Force Academy where he’d be third-generation alumni, and said, “I’ll tell Coach what you’re taking.”

Nixon’s brow furrowed and then smoothed in one heartbeat. “You can be a real asshole, you know that?”

“Only if pushed.”

He touched your back and said, “Come on.”

“Molly,” I tried.

But you didn’t even look at me.

I stayed in the trees longer than I needed to. Long enough that my skin went numb from the cold, and I wondered if maybe I ought to just stay out there forever. Then I remembered what you said— But I don’t love you.

And so I took a breath and headed out of the trees because I needed to hear the truth slip from your mouth. Just once.

Except that was the last time I talked to you, Molly. The last word you heard from me was your name. Remember how I said it? As if my heart had grown too big for my body?

And you know what? The last word you said was my name, too.

I’m sorry, Cobain.

After you disappeared, I thought of the way you said it. Like you truly were sorry. Like you loved me, but that wasn’t enough. Or maybe it was too much. Yeah, I think that’s closer.

But don’t worry, Molly, because I know why you left without me.

It took me a while to get there, but now I know.





MOLLY


She’d planned to betray him.

Her Cobain. Her heart. He didn’t have her devotion at first, of course. She’d protected it well. She told herself sacrifices had to be made if she were to escape her mother, and her father’s bloody, manipulative legacy. But first, she had to succumb to his ways. And so on the first day of school, she searched for someone who would help her escape this life she despised so deeply that her bones wept.

She thought she’d found that person when she met Rhana.

But then there was Cobain with his sad eyes. With his Herculean size and hands that seemed like they could be soft or lethal, depending on who he turned them on.

She’d waited for someone like him for fourteen months as her mother’s obsession with her grew, as she drowned in her mother’s home with the reminder of her father lingering in every last corner, and then there Cobain was on the first day of her new school.