-Blake West:
Oh my god.
Oh my god.
Oh my god, I killed him.
I killed Zade.
I stood frozen in my bedroom, clutching my head with shaking hands, my heart pounding against my ribs like it wanted to break free. The memory of Zade falling back, crumpling like a puppet with its strings cut, played on a loop in my mind.
Why did I throw the box?
WHY DID I THROW THE BOX?
"Oh my god, I killed him," I whispered again, feeling bile rise in my throat. I couldn't just stand here. I had to check on him.
I bolted. My bare feet slapped against the cold marble floor as I sprinted out of the room, heart hammering. My breath came out in ragged gasps, and tears blurred my vision again—not from sadness this time, but from full-blown panic.
As I stumbled through the corridor, desperate to find Zade, sharp and frantic voices suddenly exploded in the air.
"CHRIS! Open the door! I swear to God, if I find you with a man in there as the maid said, I will KILL you!"
Rina.
I skidded to a stop near one of the corridors, whipping my head toward the sound.
There she was. Rina Collins, Zade's mom, was standing outside my old bedroom door, the same bedroom she refused to let me stay in because it belongs to Chris now, hammering her fists against it like her life depended on it. Her usually immaculate hair was slightly undone, her perfect lipstick smeared at the corners from screaming.
"CHRIS! Open this door! You better NOT be naked in there with that boy! Open up!" Her voice cracked, and she turned back, yelling over her shoulder. "BEN! BEN, get over here! Bring something to break the door! BEN!"
Her fists pounded harder.
"Chris! Please! Open this door! I swear to God, if I find Killian naked in there with you, we're going straight to the church, you hear me?! STRAIGHT to the church to get married! I mean it! Open this door! Don't make me drag you out!"
I hesitated for just a second, too stunned to move. This house was chaos. Complete chaos. But—I had no time. I rushed forward toward her, desperate.
"M-Miss Rina! Miss—please! I—I need help, it's Zade, he—"
Without even looking at me, she shoved me. Hard. I stumbled back, nearly falling.
"Not now! Can't you see I'm dealing with my daughter's stupidity?!" She snapped, voice sharp as knives. Her eyes flickered toward me for half a second before returning to the door. "Go away!"
I opened my mouth to explain, to beg her to listen, but she waved me off, furious. "Go AWAY, Blake! Ugh! God, how can you even run with all that weight on you?! Honestly! You're sweating just from standing here."
Her words pierced me. But I didn't have time to care. Not now. I turned and ran, my lungs burning, her cruel voice fading behind me. My heart was screaming one thing louder than her insults:
Zade. I need to get to Zade.
I pushed past everything. My body ached, but fear overpowered every ounce of exhaustion. Tears pricked my eyes again, mixing with sweat on my cheeks as I bolted down the grand staircase.
I had to get outside. Now.
Just as I turned the corner toward the back door, I collided—hard—with something solid. Someone solid. I crashed so hard, I bounced back, gasping, nearly falling.
"What the hell?!" Killian. Chris's smug, muscle-brained boyfriend. He was half naked, his hair was messy, his neck had fresh hickey marks, and he was only wearing pants that weren't even buckled correctly, nor did they fit him.
I stumbled back as he clutched his stomach, groaning, his usual cocky grin momentarily replaced by a grimace.
"Jesus Christ, are you trying to kill me?!" he barked, clutching his ribs. "What are you made of? Cement?!"
"—I'm sorry—I didn't see you—I—" I gasped, glancing past him toward the garden. I needed to move. I didn't have time for this.
But Killian straightened up fast, eyes darting around nervously. He grabbed my shoulder, pulling me close. "You didn't see me here."
I blinked, stunned. "What?"
"You didn't see me," he repeated, quieter this time, but dead serious. His eyes burned into mine. "You've never met me. You've never seen me. You understand?"
I nodded quickly. Whatever. Fine. I just needed him gone. But then, to my absolute horror, he leaned in—his lips brushed my cheek. "Thank you, pretty."
I froze. He winked. And then, just like that, he bolted down another hallway, disappearing like smoke.
I wiped my cheek furiously, shuddering. What the hell was that?
But again—no time.
I sprinted out of the house, practically gasping for air as I rounded the last corner.
And there—there he was. Zade. Lying on the ground. Motionless. A sharp cry tore from my throat. "No… no no no, please—Zade!" I dropped beside him, hands shaking violently. His skin was pale. His forehead—oh god. I saw the swelling, right where the heavy wooden box had struck him.
"Zade! Please! Oh god, please wake up! Zade!" I didn't know what to do. I touched his face, terrified to move him, terrified not to. His breathing—was he breathing? I leaned closer, sobbing now.
"Please… don't be dead. I didn't mean to—I swear I didn't mean to…"
I wiped at my face, rocking slightly in panic. "Please wake up. I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…" I cradled his head gently, too scared to even shout for help. My voice felt trapped in my throat.
Oh my god.
Oh my god.
Oh my god, I killed him.
I pressed my trembling fingers to Zade's neck, searching desperately for a pulse. My fingertips felt ice-cold against his warm skin as I pressed too hard, too fast, unsure if I was even doing it right. Was that his pulse? Was that my own pulse? I couldn't tell. My heart was thundering so hard I couldn't hear anything else.
"Please, please, no, Zade, don't be dead—oh my god, I killed him, I killed him—" My voice broke as tears burned my eyes. I was shaking so badly, I almost dropped his wrist.
I looked around wildly, as if someone—anyone—could help, but there was no one. Just the massive backyard, silent except for my gasping breaths and the sound of my own sobs. I looked back down at him, panic gripping my throat. His face was pale, his lips slightly parted.
I wiped my sleeve across my face.
Focus. Focus, Blake.
I leaned over him again, searching his chest. Was he breathing?
And then I noticed something.
Something strange.
I blinked, confused.
"…When did you take your pants off?" I whispered in horror, staring at his bare legs. His shorts, gone. He was just lying there in his boxers. I shook my head violently. "No, no, no, not the time, Blake, focus! You can ask questions later, save him now."
I ran both my hands through my wet hair, tugging at the roots.
"CPR… that's what people do, right?" My voice was high-pitched, panicked. "Mouth-to-mouth… I can do that… right?"
My throat tightened as I hesitated over him. I leaned down, so close, heart hammering.
"Oh god, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Zade—please don't hate me—"
I squeezed my eyes shut.
And then, terrified but determined to save him, I pressed my lips to his.
For half a second.
Because right as I did, his body jolted.
His eyes flew open.
And he screamed.
I screamed.
We both screamed.
Loud.
Terrified.
Zade scrambled back, kicking and clawing at the grass to get away from me, while I fell onto my butt, gasping in terror. My heart almost stopped from shock.
"What the—what the hell are you doing?!" Zade's voice cracked.
"I—I wasn't—I wasn't kissing you!" I blurted instantly, shaking my head violently, eyes huge.
Zade stared at me like I'd grown two heads. "Did you just kiss me?!"
"No! No! No! No, of course not!" I nearly shrieked, flailing my arms. "I was—I was doing CPR! Mouth thing! Mouth-saving thing! Not kissing! Definitely not kissing!"
Zade's mouth dropped open in pure disbelief.
"Mouth-saving thing?" he repeated slowly, blinking.
"Mouth to mouth! That thing! CPR! Whatever! I wasn't—I wasn't trying to—" My voice broke as I waved my hands around, completely unravelling.
Zade watched me for a long moment.
And then, to my horror, he smirked.
"Oh… so that's what we're calling it now."
I gasped. "I wasn't kissing you, you idiot!" I scrambled to my feet, angry now, my face burning. "I can't believe you just did that! Were you pretending to be unconscious? Was that one of your stupid pranks too?!" I accused, pointing furiously at him.
Zade's jaw dropped. "What?!"
"You're unbelievable!" I snapped. "Was this all a game?! To humiliate me again?! You sick—"
Before I could finish, he was on his feet.
In one fast, furious motion, he grabbed my wrist and shoved me down onto the grass, pinning me flat against the cold ground. His body pressed against mine as he held me down, his breathing heavy, his forehead inches from my face.
I didn't even register how close we were. I was too angry.
"Get off me! Let go!" I struggled wildly, shoving at his shoulders.
"Are you INSANE?!" Zade roared. "You think I was pretending to be unconscious? You THREW A WOODEN BOX AT MY HEAD!"
He let go of one of my wrists just long enough to touch his temple and then shoved his blood-stained fingertips in front of my face.
"Look! LOOK! Did I fake the blood too?!"
I froze.
My throat locked up.
My furious struggle melted into horrified silence. I stared at the dark red smears on his fingers. My stomach twisted. Oh my god. He was bleeding. He… he was actually bleeding. I went limp beneath him.
"I—I… Zade, I'm sorry, I—I thought—" My voice cracked as I stared at his wound, tears welling in my eyes.
Zade rolled off me, breathing heavily, and collapsing beside me on the grass. We both sat there in silence, staring at the grass between us, shaken and breathless.
After a long pause, Zade spoke softly. "I just… don't get it." I looked at him hesitantly. He was still cradling his head, blood streaked across his temple. "I gave you a gift, Blake. Why did you throw it at me? Was it that insulting?"
I blinked, confused.
"What?"
"My gift." Zade glanced at me, eyes hurt. "I thought you hated it or something. I just wanted to apologise for what Chris and Kill did. I thought… I thought you'd like it."
I stared at him blankly.
"Gift?" I repeated softly.
Zade gestured toward the box—now lying discarded on the grass, the wrapping torn.
I swallowed thickly.
"I… you filled it with bugs or something."
His brow furrowed.
"What?"
"It was a prank. Like what Chris and Kill did. Elena told me about how you all pull pranks… I… you wanted to humiliate me. Like everyone else."
Zade's expression shattered. "I'm not everyone else." My stomach twisted. Zade reached for the box, wincing slightly as he opened it with trembling fingers.
And there, nestled inside, were rows of neatly arranged chocolates.
I stared.
Chocolate.
My favorite.
"Nuts inside," Zade said softly, eyes tired. "From one of the best stores in town. I picked them myself. Thought you'd like to try some new ones too. As an apology."
My chest ached. I couldn't breathe. I looked at him, my voice breaking. "I'm so sorry." Tears ran down my cheeks, silent and ashamed.
Zade's face crumpled in panic.
"No, no—no, no, no, Blake. Please don't cry. You promised me you wouldn't cry." His voice cracked as he shuffled closer, panicked. "Come on, hey… please… don't…"
I shook my head, sobbing now.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry…"
"Shhh, stop apologising. Look—here." He picked up a piece of chocolate, unwrapped it carefully, and gently pushed it toward my mouth. "Here. Try it. Please. I forgive you. Please stop crying."
I sniffled, hesitated. Then, shakily, I took a bite. A hiccup of laughter bubbled from my throat as I chewed. "It's good," I mumbled.
Zade smiled, watery and relieved. "See? Good."
"I'm still sorry," I whispered.
"And I still forgive you," he said softly, wiping the tears from my cheeks with his fingers. His touch was warm, gentle.
We sat there like that.
Quiet.
Calming.
"I'll get you more," Zade said suddenly, after feeding me another piece. "When you finish this box. Just tell me, and I'll get you more. I promise."
I nodded, still crying softly.
And then, surprising even myself, I picked up one small chocolate from the box… and held it out toward him.
"For you," I whispered. Zade blinked. Then, reluctantly, he leaned forward and let me feed him. "Ugh. You know I don't even like chocolate," he mumbled with his mouth full. "But fine. For you I'll sacrifice my abs."
I laughed softly, wiping my eyes. He smiled, chewing. "Okay. Stop crying, best friend." I looked up at him.
"We're gonna be best friends again," he said softly. "But now we're grown up. We can actually go out. Properly. I've got a car. We'll go somewhere. Just the two of us. Like we used to. But better. A grown-up version."
I hesitated.
"Now?"
Zade chuckled, still chewing.
"Yeah. Why not? Right now."
I glanced down at myself.
"Uh… you're not going like that, are you?" Zade paused, frowning in confusion. "Like what?" I gestured. "You're… not wearing pants."
He looked down slowly. Blink. Silence. And then, like a lightning bolt, realization hit him. He let out a yelp and slapped his hands over his bare thighs and over his underwear. "Where the FUCK are my pants?!"
I just stared at him, too emotionally drained to react. Zade squinted at me suspiciously, lowering his voice. "Did you… take my pants off?"