Instead of You (11 page)

   “This is us.”

Chapter Ten

McKenzie

   Hot water cascaded from the top of my head, down my chest, over my stomach, all the way to the shower floor.  The warmth was welcomed after standing in the rain.  Although, admittedly, while I was standing in the rain, I hadn’t noticed the cold.

   Oh, no.

   I was very much
not cold
outside, with Hayes’s arms wrapped around me, lips kissing mine, hands running all over me.

   Good God, he could kiss.  I remembered the kiss we shared two years ago, but everyone knew your first kiss was never the greatest.  I remember it being amazing, not only because of the actual kiss, but because of the way it made me feel.

   Well, kiss number one with Hayes held no candle to kiss number two.

   The first time, he kissed me because he thought he’d never have another chance.  But the second time, well, he kissed me because he got the chance he never thought he’d have.

   I pushed thoughts of Cory out of my mind.  It was maddening to think about the two of them in the same frame, as if they were mutually exclusive—which they were.  I could only have one without the other.  But the difference was, I kept telling myself, that Cory wasn’t a choice anymore.

   I let out a large sigh as I rinsed the conditioner out of my hair.

   We’d kissed in the rain until Hayes had finally pulled away, running the back of his large hands over my cheeks, telling me to go inside and warm up, but that we weren’t finished.  I did what he asked because I had just been kissed stupid, but as I dried off and put on a pair of yoga pants and a tank top, I found myself getting nervous, wondering what he’d meant.

   I walked into the living room and noticed my house was still empty.  I figured Mom had stopped at Mrs. Wallace’s when she got off work, and I’m sure she was planning on staying for a while since she was upset about the ring.

   The ring.

   I wasn’t surprised that Cory had picked out a ring for me.  In fact, absolutely nothing about our relationship surprised me because everything was so transparent and laid out for us.  Our story had been written before either one of us could put up any kind of argument. 

   I grabbed my backpack and started working on the piles and piles of homework I’d gathered from school.  Twenty minutes later I’d done a pretty good job of sorting work out and determining which assignments needed to be completed first.  I’d always been a really good student, so I was determined to catch up quickly.  The last term of senior year was not the time to fall behind.

   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.”

   Suddenly, a strong wave of relief rushed through me.  I moved into him, pressing my cheek against his chest, loving the way his arms naturally wound around me, holding me close to him.  I listened to his heartbeat, felt the warmth from his body against my face.

   After a few minutes of just feeling him against me, I said something I knew needed to be addressed. 

   “We can’t tell anyone,” I whispered.  “No one would understand, Hayes.  It would hurt so many people.”  And that hurt me.  We were just hours into this—whatever this was—and I already knew it was different than what I had with Cory.  I’d never felt anything close to this with him.  And knowing that something that felt so wonderful to me would hurt and confuse those closest to us left a dark cloud over everything.

   “I know,” he said softly, sounding despondent, just before pressing his lips to the top of my head.  “You should probably go back inside.  It’s getting late.”

   I knew he was right, knew it was better to be inside instead of standing on my porch hugging him, but his words just brought fears I wasn’t prepared for.  What if we went our separate ways that night and then everything went back to the way it was the next day?  What if this one night was some sort of fluke, and tomorrow we were forced back to the old Hayes and McKenzie?  I didn’t want to go back; didn’t want to lose whatever connection we’d forged in the rain that night.  I wanted him to know, for whatever it was worth, how much I wanted
us
to continue, risks and obstacles be damned.

   Taking no time to worry about his response, I lifted onto my toes, reached up, and kissed him.  Whatever I couldn’t say, whatever feelings were too powerful to give words to, I put them into that kiss.  I showed him my fears, my worries, but most of all, I showed him what I wanted.

   I wanted him.

   He answered my kiss with one of his own.

   Finally, he pulled away again and I had to fight the urge to groan, already missing his mouth against mine.

   “You need to go inside now.”  His voice was raspy, nearly a growl, and hearing it made everything inside me seize and then sputter back to life, but I nodded, agreeing.

   “Just promise me you won’t forget about me tomorrow.”  I hadn’t meant to sound like a needy, immature girl, but I desperately needed the reassurance.

   His eyes met mine again, this time both his hands cradling my face.  “I couldn’t if I tried.”

   “Okay,” I whispered.  He gave me one last small peck on the lips, then took a small step back, but he might as well have put a canyon between us for how far away he felt.

   “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

   I turned away from him and walked back in my house, making sure I turned the dead bolt behind me.  I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, and then continued to my bedroom, hoping the next day would bring a little more clarity and a little less uncertainty.

Chapter Eleven

McKenzie

   The following days did nothing to quiet the uneasiness I felt about my situation with Hayes. 

   School was torture.

   I spent the entire day peeking over my shoulder, looking down hallways, basically being paranoid and searching for his face in a crowd.  I never saw him outside of class, which made sense; he wasn’t a student so he wouldn’t be traipsing through the halls between periods.  But it almost felt as though he weren’t real.  That what had happened between us was simply a figment of my overactive and sadistic imagination.

   Sitting in his class, however, was surprisingly easier than I had anticipated.

   Because I got to look at him.

   And I not only got to look at him, but I was able to
see
him. 

   I thought I knew Hayes, and in a big way, I did.  But I hadn’t met that Hayes yet.  I hadn’t been introduced to the guy who was passionate about history, of all things.  Or the person who could make witty comments and entice laughter from a room full of sullen teenagers.  I never knew the man who could engage a room full of students and make them excited about a world war or learning about it in a way that was more than just dates, names, and events.  He wasn’t just teaching history; he was telling us a story.

   But he was also beautiful.

   So I let him teach and I tried to pay attention—really, I did—but a lot of the time I was just caught up in all the new things I was learning about him and memorizing all the things about him that made him
Hayes
.  He also made this very easy because not once since he’d started had he looked at me.  I had my suspicions about why that was and figured he thought it was too risky for him to be looking at me at all.  So it was easy to stare and get lost in him since he was never looking my way.

   I wasn’t dumb, and I wasn’t ignorant to the situation.  I knew that if anyone found out about what had happened between us, the only one who would suffer would be Hayes.  So when I sat in his class every day, my body weirdly aching for him to just glance in my direction, I knew why he didn’t and I was completely okay with it.

   Well, for the most part.

   I was having a grand old time taking him in, watching the way his body moved and stretched the shirt trying to contain his muscled arms, or how when he turned around his hair was so neatly pulled back into a bundle at the base of his neck, making his shoulders look fantastic.  But I also wasn’t the only one noticing how beautiful he was.

   When he did turn his back to the class, I watched as all the girls looked around at each other, raising their eyebrows, their mouths forming tiny Os, their cheeks pinkening.  Then the giggling started and my heartbeat pounded in my veins.

   I’d never been jealous before, never had a reason to be.  Every single person in our school had known Cory and I were together and no one ever tested that.  But nobody could have suspected that Mr. Wallace was involved with anyone, especially not the girl in the third row who was supposedly mourning his younger brother.