Pretty Thing (Naughty Things 1)

She stands back, hands on my shoulders, holding me at arm’s length. “You need to listen to that message. Like… now.”

“I want to, I do. But… not now, OK? I need to do that alone. And I’m not ready to go home yet. I just want to sit here with you and dream a little first, OK?”

“Yes,” she says, squeezing my shoulders. “Yes. That sounds like a perfect plan.”

She shows me around the apartment. The whole place comes furnished and guess what? It’s even my style. No modern couches, no stainless-steel tables, no blank, blah neutral color scheme either.

My room, the one Alison says is mine, is even decorated in light blue. Light blue with tan accents. It’s girly, but in a grown-up way. Kinda like me. Or the me I used to be. And wouldn’t it be fantastic to be the old me again? The carefree one who wore pretty dresses and still made forts with her brother and his best friend in the woods. The one who would have her hair up in perfect braids and could still climb rocks and catch frogs. The one Aiden and Kyle remember.

After hours of talking she calls me a car and walks me out to the curb, arm linked in mine. Because we are truly partners now. I’m going home to give notice to my landlord and put all my furniture up for sale online. Because I don’t need that fake stuff anymore. The new, real me is about to be born.

All the way home I begin to dream. Begin to see things in a new way.

I had no clue Alison came from such a wealthy family. My family isn’t poor by any means. We’ve never had money problems, but this… this is a real opportunity for us to start over. And isn’t that what I really need?

It’s not just the fact that I can’t have Aiden. It’s not just the fact that Kyle is dead. Or that I’m sad about both those things.

It’s more than that.

I’m adrift. I have no direction, I have no goals, and I let my dream fade because of one failure.

Alison is one of those people who doesn’t believe in failure. She believes in chances. Second chances, specifically.

And not only that, I let myself fade too.

I want me back.

When I get home I kick off my shoes and sit on the couch with my phone in hand.

I’m going to do it. I’m going to listen to Kyle’s final message for me. And no matter what it says, I’m not going to think about it again.

This is it. The end of my sadness starts now.

I press the number into my phone and put it on speaker.

“Kali,” Kyle’s voice says. It’s not the ‘hey, dude’ greeting that Aiden got, that’s for sure. It’s low, and a little bit sad. And before he even starts talking again, I’m crying.

“Kal,” he says, his sadness so clear. I am his twin. I feel what he feels. He swallows hard. Hard enough for me to hear him. Then sighs and says, “I feel like crying right now. Not because I’m dead and you’re alive, but because I miss you already and we’re both still here. And I know how I’d feel if you were the one to die, so I know exactly how you feel right now, sis.”

I nod my head. Because I know how he’d feel too.

“First,” he says, drawing in a deep breath. “I love you. I love you so much. More than anything or anyone in this entire world. You are my other half, Kal. My other half. No one could ever replace you. I don’t think I got married, but if I did, not even my wife could take your place in my heart. You are my number one, you hear me? My number one.”

Tears are streaming down my face. Like rivers. Like waterfalls.

“And I want to say all the things. I want to talk to you forever. You’re the reason I got this app, Kal. You. Because I want to have conversations with you forever. I want you to call this number, any time you want, and tell me anything at all. Tell me everything. I want to know all of it. Every bad day you have, every good day you have, every milestone, every new friend, every new guy. I want to hear about your wedding day, and your babies when they’re born, and even when you’re old, I want to hear about that too. Because I still need you, OK? And you still need me. So…”

He’s crying now too. But he takes a moment to sniff and I know he’s wiping his eyes. I’ve seen him cry enough over the years to picture all this in my head.

“So…” he continues. “One more thing before I let you go for now. And it’s about Aiden.”