Five Years Later…
“You better text me as soon as you get settled.” Maggie throws her arms around me, squeezing the breath out of my body for the third time in five minutes.
“Cross my heart.” I return her embrace, the laugh in my throat morphing into a painful lump.
Shit, I’m really going to miss her.
She pulls away from me. “I’m serious. You keep me updated about our pact, or I will selfie-bomb the shit out of you—don’t think I won’t.”
I knew that pact would come back to bite me in the ass.
We made it at the End of Semester party Maggie dragged me to after finals week. She’d just been dumped by her douchebag of a boyfriend, and I was feeling down in the dumps about my nonexistent love life.
We were tipsy and feeling sorry for ourselves when Mag suggested that we put ourselves out there this summer.
Maggie’s on the rebound, but I want something different.
Something real.
I’ve never had a real relationship in my life. Sure, I’ve had some college flings here and there, and I dated a guy named Ben on and off during high school, but I’ve never had a relationship exceed the one-year mark.
Let’s just say dating didn’t rank very high on my priority list after what happened to Gray.
But that all changes now.
“Remind me again why we made that stupid pact?”
Maggie points a finger at me. “Shush. You should be thanking me for getting you back in the game before your hoo-ha goes on strike for negligence.”
I snort. “Classy, Mag.”
“Now, are you going to get yourself laid, or do I need to continue with my pussy synonyms? ’Cause there’s a lot more where that came from. Lady garden, punani, vulvarine—”
I let out a chuckle, throwing my hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. You win.”
She smirks in satisfaction. “Good call.”
If there’s one thing I’ve learned from sharing a dorm with this girl for the past two years, it’s that first impressions can be misleading.
I didn’t like Maggie when I first met her.
Couldn’t stand her.
I remember thinking she was a spoiled rich girl. It just seemed to me like she saw the world through privilege-colored glasses, and she does, in a way, but it’s not like she had a say in the matter.
Maggie’s parents have been saving to put her through college since she was a baby. She’s an only child with a CEO mom and a dad who just made partner at his law firm.
Oh, and her parents take her on a family trip every summer—last year was France, this year is Italy. Need I say more?
At first, I hated her for it.
I hated the fact that all of her expenses are paid for while the rest of us are barely getting by and racking up loads of student debt, but now?
I realize that was just my jealousy speaking.
And it wasn’t so much about the money—although that part did leave a bitter taste in my mouth—as it was about the easy life Maggie had led so far.
No tragedy.
No murdered brother.
No grief.
It was like a part of me was so focused on hating everyone who hadn’t been through hell that I never thought to try to get myself out of it.
Years of therapy later, I learned to accept life for what it is.
Now, I’m not saying I forgave the universe for taking Gray away from us, but I found a way to accept that he’s not coming back.
Because he’s gone.
Because he’s dead.
I know I’m never going to stop wondering what really happened that day.
I’m never going to stop lying awake at night, thinking about the masked man who came into the store while Gray was working. I’m never going to be able to understand why he thought the few dollars in the cash register were worth more than my brother’s life.
But after years of obsessing over his murder, begging the police to dig deeper and give me and my mom some closure, I had no choice but to come to terms with the fact that we’ll never know who did it.
So, I let go.
I moved on.
I accepted Gray’s death so that it wouldn’t kill me, too.
As soon as I started working on my issues, Maggie and I became inseparable. We’re even getting a new dorm next semester. It has a fully functioning kitchen and a bathroom—which is a big step up from the one we’ve shared so far.
It’s safe to say that Maggie is my closest friend.
Fine, she’s my only friend.
I completely lost touch with my high school friends since moving to Boone for college.
Not that I miss them.
I’ll always remember the way Brie gave me shit for quitting the cheerleading team to help my mom with the store. Or the way Louise told me I was depressing to be around just two days after we put Gray’s body into the ground.
Lacey was the only one I considered to be a true friend out of all of them, but she became her stepsiblings’ legal guardian right out of high school, essentially assuming the role of a single parent at eighteen.
We drifted apart over time, but I don’t blame her for neglecting to text me back.
She obviously has a lot on her plate.
My phone chimes with a message from my mom, and I don’t even need to open it to know she’s waiting for me outside.
“My mom’s here.” I pull Mag into another hug. “Enjoy your trip and a hot summer fling with an Italian guy, okay?”
She laughs. “Oh, I plan on it.”
I grab the handle of my suitcase and glance around our dorm one last time before walking out. I spot my mom’s car parked out front the second I exit the dorms.
My mom hurries out of the car when she sees me and pops the trunk with her key fob. I’m greeted by one of her bear hugs and an interrogation I should’ve seen coming.
Once we’ve established that I haven’t forgotten anything in the dorm—it only took Mom listing every single item in my suitcase to make sure I packed it—I haul my luggage into her trunk and climb into the passenger seat.
I notice the back seat of her car is brimming with boxes as we hop back onto the road.
The trunk was packed, too.
She just recently vacated the apartment she’d been renting for two years. She said she wanted to live closer to me—even though her old apartment was less than fifteen minutes away from the dorms—and found this lovely condo right off campus.
She was supposed to get the keys to her new place a week ago, and if there’s one thing you need to know about Lillian Queen, it’s that she hates moving. She usually starts unpacking right away to get it over with.
I slide the window down to enjoy some fresh air. “Why do you have all that stuff in your car? I thought you’d be all moved in by now.”
She clears her throat. “About that. There’s been a slight change of plans.”
I can practically see beads of sweat forming on her forehead when she says that.
“What happened?”
“I talked to the landlord, and, um… we won’t be able to move in just yet.”
I stiffen in my seat. “Why not?”
She keeps her gaze fixated on the road. “A pipe burst in the condo above mine.”
You have got to be kidding me.
“Can we still live in it?”
“That depends.”
I can’t stand how vague she’s being. “On what?”
“How much swimming you want to do this summer.”
Shit.
“The owner said the flooding is manageable. Out of all the units that were affected, mine sustained the least damage, but it’s bad enough that they’re going to need a few months to fix it.”
She continues before I can answer. “Look. I know it’s not ideal, but the landlord’s been really accommodating about it. They’ll be covering three months’ rent and the cost of the storage unit for my furniture.”
If you ask me, it’s the least they can do.
I heave a sigh. “How long is it going to be?”
“It should be ready by the end of the summer.”
“The end of the summer?” I shriek.
If I had known about this sooner, I might’ve been able to work something out with campus housing to stay in my dorm until next semester. Granted, it would’ve been pricey, and I would’ve had to take a few summer classes, but anything’s better than being homeless.
“But… where are we going to live?”
She blows out a breath. “Now, before I tell you, I need you to promise that you’ll keep an open mind.”
I have a bad feeling about this.
“Mom, just tell me.”
“Remember when I said Evie and I had reconnected?”
My heart hurts a pinch.
I remember a time when the thought of Mom and Evie drifting apart would have never crossed my mind. But the truth is, they’ve barely spoken these past few years.
It was a gradual thing.
They kept in touch at first but life and distance eventually got the upper hand.
Evie moved to LA the day after my fourteenth birthday while Mom stayed in Silver Springs until I graduated. Mom mentioned Evie had reached out to her a few months ago, wanting to make up for lost time.
“Yeah?” I feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Mom pauses, the dread in her eyes unmissable. “She’s invited us to stay at the beach house for the summer.”
Did I just hallucinate?
“Wait, the beach house? As in…”
Mom nods. “That’s right. The one in Golden Cove.”
“What? But how? I thought it was sold after Mr. Wilder died.”
“It was. But the new owners went bankrupt. It pushed them into foreclosure.”
The news leaves me speechless.
“I didn’t want to impose at first, but she insisted. She said I should think of it as a thank-you for taking them in after her husband died.”
Talk about a full-circle moment.
A million questions leap to the front of my mind. “Hold on, are you saying Evie bought a seven-million-dollar beach house? With what money?”
Sure, Evie is comfortable. She purchased a gorgeous ranch in Colorado three years ago, although, technically, it wasn’t with her money.
That’s when it all makes sense.
“Kane bought it for her, didn’t he?”
One look at her face, and I know I was right.
Kane bought the beach house for his mom.
Of course he did.
You’d think I would’ve learned not to be surprised by anything this guy does anymore.
It feels like not too long ago, he was taking my first kiss while knowing damn well that he was leaving the next day.
I can still see it.
Fourteen-year-old me, walking downstairs the next morning, a big dopey grin on her face, only to find out the boy she loved had left her.
On her birthday, of all days.
Kane and his mom had boarded a plane to LA earlier that day, off to chase a dream we’d built together. Then I never heard a peep from him again.
He didn’t text, didn’t call.
He just… vanished.
I later found out that Kane had been approached by a talent manager for one of the biggest record labels in America.
I remember thinking it was weird that Kane and his mom hadn’t come home for dinner the night before Kane disappeared from my life. Well, it turns out they were having a business meeting with Joshua Caldwell.
He’d stumbled upon the video of Kane singing “Iris” and fallen in love with his voice. He made the trip to Silver Springs solely to see Kane and his mom and convince them to fly out to LA at his expense.
The deal was that he’d pay for their food and hotel while doing everything in his power to get Kane’s name out there.
It wasn’t long before Kane started fascinating people all over the world. Not only was he gorgeous and talented, he was under the management of the industry’s most influential man.
Joshua is known as the brain behind Hollywood’s biggest celebrities. Story has it, every artist he’s ever discovered has made it big, and he has a special eye for untapped potential.
The first single Kane released was “I’m Still Yours.”
It debuted at number fifteen on the charts, which was unheard of for a new artist. Less than two weeks later, he was number one. It almost seemed like the universe was playing a joke on me.
I spent the next few months killing myself to avoid any radio station I knew was playing his song on repeat, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t outrun him.
Or his lyrics.
You’re not mine.
And that’s okay.
But I’m still yours.
Now and always.
Ten months later, Kane was coming out with his first album. It was a pop album, consisting of fourteen tracks with catchy melodies and cheesy lyrics that sounded nothing like his songwriting.
The way I remember it, Kane’s songwriting was deep.
His lyrics made you feel something, and yes, “I’m Still Yours” was about love, but I know for a fact that most of his other songs weren’t.
Kane wrote about his trauma and regrets when we were kids. His songs explored a variety of topics, but there wasn’t one song on his first album that wasn’t about meeting a girl and falling in love.
His fans ate that shit up, of course, but I knew the truth.
No one knows what kind of artist Kane really is.
Not even his mom.
Now, that’s not to say Evie didn’t do her best.
She quit her jobs, packed her bags, and followed her kid halfway around the world in order to make his dreams come true, but it doesn’t change the fact that she didn’t even know her son was a talented musician until the day Joshua came calling.
My mom said Evie did everything she could to shield Kane from the drug and alcohol abuse of the music industry. At least until Kane turned seventeen.
That’s when he bought her the Colorado ranch and asked her for some space.
He said it was because he wanted to learn to navigate his career without his mom constantly looking over his shoulder. After all, she’d been tagging along on all of his tours since he got his start. Evie respected his decision and left him to face the industry alone.
It all went downhill from there.
Alcohol.
Drugs.
Hooking up with random women.
He’s done it all.
And it’s not like I check up on him.
I don’t go out of my way to find out what he’s up to, and I don’t stalk his socials, but even I heard about the clusterfuck his life has become in the past year.
Though nothing compares to the scandal that took place two weeks ago.
The headline almost broke the internet.
Kane Wilder attacks manager Joshua Caldwell and puts him into a wheelchair.
Maggie, who’s a big fan of Kane, wouldn’t stop talking about it after it happened.
She has no idea that Kane and I were friends in another life, and no matter how many times I’ve told her that she doesn’t need to share the latest Kane Wilder gossip with me, she just can’t help herself.
I remember being woken up by her screaming the day she found out. I asked her what was going on, and she showed me the video going viral on YouTube.
It was recorded inside a club Kane rented out for one of his band member’s birthday party.
The video was recorded from the second-floor mezzanine, overlooking the bar area downstairs. No one knows who caught it on camera, but the tape shows Kane and his manager arguing next to a large door.
We couldn’t hear what they were saying because of the loud music playing, but Kane was obviously livid. Meanwhile, his manager seemed like he was going to shit himself.
Can’t blame him.
Kane’s a whooping six-foot-three now and much more imposing than he was at fifteen.
Halfway through the video, Kane gripped Joshua’s suit and yanked him closer to say something inches away from his face.
Joshua’s reply seemed to set him off because Kane went apeshit on him the next second, cocking his fist back and crashing it into Joshua’s jaw.
Joshua dropped to the ground like deadweight. I could tell the crowd was starting to notice as people began to gather around them. Kane wasn’t done, though. He pulled Joshua back to his feet and hit him again twice as hard.
The door behind them opened at the exact same time.
Little did Kane know it led to a set of cement stairs…
The force of Kane’s punch sent Joshua flying straight into the open door. The woman who opened it stepped aside, but Joshua didn’t manage to steady himself.
He fell down the stairs.
The music stopped abruptly, and gasps ran through the crowd as Kane stood there.
He seemed to be in shock because a guy with black hair and a muscular build ran to him and gave his shoulder a shake as if to bring him out of a trance—turns out it was his drummer, i.e. the guy Kane threw the party for.
His name is Oscar something.
People rushed toward the stairs to check on Joshua.
Then the screen went black.
There have been many rumors and theories going around. Articles have been popping up all over the internet, claiming to know why Kane flipped out that night.
One article said Kane has a crippling drug problem that causes episodes of blinding anger, another one said he’d broken up with his supermodel girlfriend, Tate Zimmer, a few minutes prior, and he just happened to take it out on his manager.
No one knows what really happened, but one thing’s for sure: this isn’t going to go away anytime soon.
Joshua’s been in the hospital since then with a concussion, broken ribs, and a spine injury, the latest being the most serious. The prognosis came early this week.
Joshua Caldwell will never walk again.
Translation: Kane’s career is over.
“Hadley?” Mom requests my attention.
I snap out of it, transported back into the car. “Sorry, what?”
“I said, isn’t it great? Going back to Golden Cove? I know how much you used to love the beach house as a kid.”
She’s right.
I did love the beach house.
But that was before Mr. Wilder’s accident.
Before everything changed.
I don’t know how I would feel going back after all these years.
Does it even matter? my broke student college brain interjects. As long as it’s free and I can get a summer job somewhere close to it, I’ll be able to save up tons of money before school picks up again. Plus, what else am I going to do? Couch surf for the rest of the summer?
I’m about to accept Evie’s invitation when I realize…
“It’s just going to be the three of us, right?”
Her skin pales at my question, and my stomach drops on cue.
I know instantly.
Then she says it.
“Kane will be there, too.”
