Page 13 of Best of Me

A waiter rushes past, sending her scent my way; she fucking smells like vanilla and honey, like Valorie…exactlylike Valorie. It’s too much, and somehow, not enough. I can’t handle it. On instinct, I reach for her before shoving away from the table and jumping to my feet. I can’t be here.I can’t fucking be here.

I haul ass out to the parking lot, Nate hot on my heels.

When the warm nighttime air hits my skin, I suck it greedily into my lungs, damn near choking on the humidity as I try and clear her scent from my skin. But like the memories of Valorie, that sweet vanilla clings to me, taunting and teasing me in the worst way.

I’m pacing the sidewalk like a caged animal, my hands tugging harshly on the ends of my hair as my partner approaches. “Wanna tell me what just happened?” he asks cautiously, curiously.

I give my hair one last tug before dragging my fingers down my face, keeping my mouth firmly shut. If I try to talk right now, I’m either going to fucking cry like a baby or vomit at Nate’s feet.

My chest heaves as I try and regain control of myself, but the harder I try, the more panicked I get. My knees buckle, but before I can hit the concrete, Nate’s there, catching me with a firm arm around my middle. He guides me to an iron bench near the parking lot and forces me to sit before shoving my head down between my knees. “Breathe,” he commands. “Deep, even breaths.”

I do as he says, each inhale ripping through my lungs like lighter fluid. After a few more painful inhales, my racing heart starts to even out and the pain in my chest dissipates a little, enough for my head to clear. “Fuck,” I mutter on one last inhale before sitting upright.

“You okay, brother?”

“No.” I don’t elaborate. I’m not ready. Seeing her after so long was completely unexpected. Back in the day, thanks to Mallory’s goth-phase, they looked so different no one ever would’ve thought they were twins. But now, with her hair long and light and her face soft and pretty and not covered in dark, heavy makeup, she looks so much like my Val that I…fuck, I feel like I’m going insane.

“Talk to me,” Nate urges. But I don’t know what to say or where to even start. Seeing Mallory is stirring up all kinds of feelings in me, with anger and longing being front and center. Anger over her leaving and never coming back—if she would’ve been here all the while, seeing her wouldn’t have been such a shock to my system, and she could deal with Nancy’s delicate mental state. But she ran away the second she could. And longing, because she looks so much like Val, which only serves as another reminder that she’s gone.

After a prolonged silence, Nate plays his trump card. “Partners.”

I inhale deeply. “That’s…she’s Val’s sister. Hertwinsister.”

Nate whistles through his teeth. “Well, ain’t that some shit.” He wraps an arm around my shoulder and squeezes once before releasing me. “I can’t imagine how hard this is for you. But try and remember she lost someone, too, okay?”

I know he’s right, logically. But, right now, in the thick of it, it’s hard to take her feelings into consideration. She’s pretty much the physical embodiment of the life I lost, of the love I lost, which makes her the last person on earth I want to see, much less welcome into our friend group.

I’m about to rebuff Nate’s statement when a hand comes down on my shoulder. A spark ripples through me at the touch, catching me wholly off guard. I spring up from the bench and whirl around, dislodging the unwelcome touch, shocked as shit to findher.“What?” I bark through clenched teeth.

Mallory’s eyes glisten as she takes a half step back, her shoulders hunching before she steels her resolve. “Duke.” She nods as if to reassure herself. “I-I was hoping we could talk.”

At least their fucking voices aren’t the same,I think bitterly. “Got nothing to talk to you about.”

“Please?” she asks, and even though I want to be as far away from Mallory Parsons as possible, I find I’m helpless to deny her.

chapter eight

Mallory

My hands tremble as I wait for Duke’s reply, but my question is met with staunch silence from him. After a minute or two, a humorless laugh escapes me as I turn to address Nate, who has been watching us with a look of morbid fascination coloring his features. “Tell Jenny I’m sorry for just leaving. I-I can’t be here.”

I turn to flee toward the parking lot when Duke grabs ahold of my wrist. “Why are you here?” His voice reminds me of boots on gravel, turning my skin to gooseflesh.

“A job,” I whisper, trying like hell to ignore the way his skin feels touching mine. He’s Valorie’s, and his innocent touch affecting me like this feels like a betrayal to her memory.

“What. Job?” His hands are balled into fists at his sides as anger pours off of him in waves. His back is ramrod straight, his eyes narrowed in accusation, though of what I’m not sure, and his lips are pressed into a thin, firm line.

“At the school. As a t-teacher.” Back in the day, once he realized Valorie had a sister, Duke always made it a point to speak to me when I was around, to include me, even though mother dearest always found some asinine reason to prevent me from actually being a part of anything other than her misery. But the man in front of me right now, he looks like he despises my very existence, like he, too, thinks the wrong twin died. It’s an arrow to my already fragile heart.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Nate hedging his way past us. “I’m gonna let y’all talk. Duke, play nice.”

“Do you wanna sit?” I take a hesitant step toward Duke, inclining my head toward the bench he was seated at.

I can tell from the way his mossy green eyes are shooting daggers at me that he wants to deny me; I just wish I knew where this animosity was coming from. I can imagine seeing me is like a slap in the face, but it’s not exactly sunshine and roses for me either. His presence calls forth every ounce of guilt buried within me. Maybe…maybe he knows the truth, that I’m the reason Valorie is dead. Maybe he hates me for it. Maybe he really does wish it would’ve been me that died instead of her. Lord knows, he wouldn’t be the only person to feel that way.

Finally, he grunts out a nod.

“Why are you really here, Mallory? You and I both know you’ve got no business being here.”

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