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I figured that there has to be something after this life, right? This can’t just be it; at least I hope this isn’t just it. If there is such a thing as reincarnation and I can still visit you or see you from my cloud (yep, I’m totes go
My list is attached. I know what I’m asking is probably unfair, but you know how I hate not finishing something I started, be it homework or cheesecake. Lol! So, #10 is a ridiculous ask—you really don’t have to do that—but a kiss would suffice. :-) I really wish I’d made a play for that hot piece of ass.
Anyway, if you decide you can’t, don’t worry, I won’t haunt you. I love you more than the stars.
You’re the most awesome friend a girl could ever have wished for. I have so many awesome memories and every one of them includes you. You have been my shoulder to cry on, my punching bag, literally and verbally. You made me feel happy when I didn’t think there was anything to be happy about, and I’m go
I love you, Blair. I always will.
Emily xoxo
P.S. You would have totally been my maid of honor when I finally married Ethan Jamison and had a billion of his sexy ass babies.
I feel my cell vibrate and I don’t have to look at the screen to know it’s Mom. The only other person who ever called was Emily. I don’t have many friends, or ones who call me, anyway. Emily and I were practically joined at the hip; she was the cool, outgoing one and I was the shy, awkward one.
She was the person everyone gravitated towards, drawing people in like moths to a flame. You couldn’t help but notice her light. Since she’s been gone, Casey and Brie have made several attempts to get me to hang out but it just feels too weird without Emily being there as my buffer. They were always more her friends than mine. We have zero in common without Emily.
“Hey,” I answer.
“Hi, honey, I’m on my way home from the office now, dropping by the store. Is there anything you need me to pick up?”
She sounds entirely too freaking happy for my mood at the moment.
“No Mom, I’m good, I’m just studying, so I’ll see you when you get back.” My voice sounds all scratchy from crying and I know she’ll call me out on it, so I press end on the call before she gets a chance.
That leaves me about forty minutes to get my shit together before she’s home. I quickly fold the letter and put it in my desk drawer before heading to the bathroom to wash my face, and hopefully gain some perspective on what the hell I just read.
I can hear pots and pans banging in the kitchen as I step out of the shower, which means Mom must be making di
I used to think that maybe I was adopted, but then as I got older, I started to really look like my mom, minus the height. We are both ridiculously pale ski
Mom shouts up that di
“HERE, TRY THIS, it’ll help,” my mom says, passing me an ice pack for my jaw. When dad saw my report card and noticed I wasn’t pulling straight A’s he was more than a little pissed at me.
“He’s under a lot of pressure at work, sweetheart; you know that. He has high expectations for you about college, Ethan.”
Yet again she’s making excuses for him; it’s her forte. She can’t look me in the eye while she says it, though. I knew he’d be pissed at me for failing math, but I was still stupid enough to mutter under my breath that it was ‘my life’. He heard that and lost his shit real quick. He doesn’t normally hit me in the face because it draws attention. I normally get beaten where the bruises can be hidden. I could fight back, I’m big enough to take him, but I don’t. I just stand there completely numb and take it. I’m pretty sure it would kill my mom to see us beating the shit out of each other. So, I suck it up and tell myself I’ll be out of here soon.
I pull my car into my usual spot in the school lot and check the rearview mirror to inspect the bruise that’s starting to form across my jaw. I notice Jackson and TJ making their way over to my Camaro. I sigh and grab my backpack from the passenger seat; I could really do without school today.
“Yo Ethan my man, where the hell have you been all weekend?” TJ hollers, coming to a standstill beside my car.
“Dude, what the hell happened to your face?” Jackson cuts in.
I shoot him a look that says ‘shut the fuck up’, and then shrug and tell them I was hit in the face while shooting hoops. TJ looks like he buys it but Jackson’s been my best friend since kindergarten. He knows my dad’s a prick, and I’m pretty sure he’s put two and two together over the years. But he also knows not to ask me about it. I grab my jacket from the backseat, slam the car door closed, and we make our way across the parking lot and head into school with the usual group of girls clamoring around us. There are definite perks to being in a band, but having girls constantly trying to claim the title of girlfriend gets old fast. It seems the less interested I am, the more interested they become.
“Hey, Ethan,” Brie says, coming to stand next to my locker.
Brie’s hot but she knows it and it’s a total turn off, she’s your stereotypical head cheerleader-—blonde hair, long legs and lip-gloss. I’d tell her to take a hike, but she’s wearing a tiny excuse of a shirt with her boobs pushed up on display, and I’m a guy, after all.