Chapter Three-Present Day

Chapter Three-Jane

"You look amazing."

I twirled in my knee-length blue and white striped skirt, and examined myself in the floor-length mirror in my bedroom.

I tucked my white t-shirt into my high waist skirt, and my white opened-toed wedges gave me a few inches that I needed. My braid hung near my ribs, over my shoulder, and my bangs drew attention to my eyes.

I looked cute, a little under-weight for my age, but overall good—on the outside at least. The things that ran rampage on the inside were a different story all together.

Stephanie, my first cousin, sat on my bed behind me, a supportive smile on her face. She'd been my rock when I came back home after the crash. It was because of her I hadn't ended up in a psych ward, or slitting my wrist to ease the pain.

Her bleached blonde hair sat in a neat bun on top of her head, while she picked at her manicured pink nails. "Have you weighed this week?"

The question didn't surprise me because it was a weekly thing I was asked. Not only by Stephanie, but also my mom who called every day from her second job to check on me.

Stephanie grw up in a wealthier neighborhood than Mom and I; my Aunt Jenny married a man with money. We were only close growing up because mom needed a babysitter most nights, and I spent those with them, wishing my life were like theirs.

"I haven't lost any more weight," I said.

"Yeah," she said, crossing her legs. "But you haven't gained. Jane, you're underweight—," I turned to draw her gaze. "Stephanie, can I enjoy today? I just graduated, I've accepted a teaching job in two months, and I'm having a party tonight. Let me enjoy this, please?"

She put up her palms. "Okay. Okay. You win. At least eat this muffin."

She pulled a packaged muffin out of her purse and handed it to me. To appease her, I opened it and took a bite. Eating was always an easy, pleasurable thing my entire life.

However, when I arrived back from the crash, after going with so little, eating seemed unimportant. I'd rather spend my days, studying or working to fill the void. Neither gave me much alone time to think, which was what I wanted.

Sitting down and enjoying an entire meal gave me too much free time. Free time wasn't my friend.

"Who all is coming to the party tonight?" she asked.

"Don't know. I guess whoever Mrs. Johns invited, Mom and you. I'm not sure to be honest. I just want to have a drink and relax. It's been one hell of a semester."

Stephanie examined a necklace on my chest-of-drawers and turned to face me. "Maybe she invited Steven?"

Oh God. Steven went to The University of Texas at Dallas with me, and had been my partner in a few classes over the last few years. With a gorgeous smile, and the ability to make me laugh, he would have been a great boyfriend—under any other circumstances. He reminded me a lot of Lucas and that wasn't right—it felt wrong.

Either way, I wasn't ready and he knew that because I'd told him every time he asked me out. Although, it didn't stop him from texting me every other day with corny jokes.

Despite the cold shoulder, we remained friends. He was one of the only students that didn't treat me as a sideshow since the crash was the most talked about thing at UT Dallas for a long time. I'd walked into class and either receive pity looks or hear whispers the entire period, as if the actual crash hadn't ruined my emotions already.

I gave Stephanie a death glare. "You didn't have her invite him, did you?"

Stephanie was an excellent liar. The girl's poker face rivaled those at a Las Vegas table. "No." "Stephanie," I whined.

She waved me off. "Are you still sure teaching in Dallas is what you want to do? You had that offer in Arizona. It may be nice to get away, start over?"

I turned my back to her, pretending to fix my braid in the mirror. Starting over didn't seem possible anymore. At first, it was all I wanted to do, but it didn't matter where I was because the nightmares never ended. They were merciless and cruel.

"I'm sure I want to stay here. I've already accepted."

"Okay," she said, looking at her cell phone's time. "I'm going to head to the house to get dressed. I'll meet you at Lucas' at seven?"

"Sounds good."

I waited until Stephanie closed my front door to toss the muffin into the trashcan beside my desk. I hated to eat in the mornings because it made me feel sick.

My phone chimed on my bed. I opened a text from Mrs. Johns that read Can't wait for tonight. I made you a giant cake!

I grinned, not caring about the cake, but that she made it for me.

Thank you. See you at seven.

Mrs. John was the strongest woman I knew, besides my own mother, and it showed on her smile every day. She never cried in front of me about Lucas. She felt he was in a better place, and everything happened for a reason.

It felt nice to know she honored him with the restaurant, even though I didn't make it down there often; I tried to order an appetizer on the weekends.

My part-time job editing papers on campus and working for the campus newspaper didn't leave much spending room. I took up random offers for help with classmate's essays and science homework, but my aunt helped with my utilities and car payments thankfully.

My cheap one bedroom apartment was in the slums of Dallas but I wasn't used to anything fancy anyway.

Blowing my bangs, I took a seat on my bed, running my hand down the scar on my forearm, trying to block out the memories surfacing. I didn't need to think about it, I tried not to, but sometimes it snuck in to take away my joy for the day.

I shook my head before gathering my dirty clothes and heading toward the apartment's washing machines. I needed something to do to distract myself from reality.

***

When I stopped in front of Lucas' several vehicles parked along the street and in their small parking lot. Nerves skated down my spine and took root in my feet.

I couldn't move or get out.

I'd been a long three years to get here and I should enjoy it. The crowd made me nervous for many reasons. So many people staring at me made me squirm, and after the crash, we had many interviews and most ended in tears and embarrassing rambles.

This was different, I knew, but the fear still loitered in the back of my thoughts.

Getting out, I locked my small rundown Honda and walked inside. A round of cheers beckoned from the corner table where at least twenty people sat.

I gave a halfhearted curtesy and walked to meet my audience. My heart pounded meeting everyone's warm glances, because I could see the curiosity behind them. Even after years, they still wondered about the little girl that lived—or survived, because most days I wasn't sure if I was really living.

Mrs. Johns tacked a banner that read congratulations above my table, and a huge cake in the shape of a graduation hat sat in the middle with finger foods and my favorite guacamole dip.

She gave me a hug, tighter than I imagined was safe, and smiled. "Congratulations, Janey."

"Thank you for all of this."

Mom swooped in a moment later, and then my mother's best friend Chloe. Before I knew it, I'd hugged everyone. Or I thought so. Someone tapped my shoulder, and I turned to look up at Steven.

I kept my cringe face at bay, and let him pull me in for a hug. He smelled like a Calvin Klein ad pulled from an expensive magazine, and looked like a pre-law student.

Despite the look of, I'm better than you are, he was always polite and opened doors for me. His blondish hair was styled back from his face, using gel and showing his big brown eyes. With a slender nose, his high-cheek bones gave him a pretty boy look—like Lucas.

"I had no idea you would be here tonight," I said.

He tugged at the collar of his button-down nervously. "Mrs. Johns asked if I wanted to come, and I couldn't think of anything else I'd rather do."

That made me sad because I really didn't care if he came or not. It wasn't fair to him to keep him around when I had no intentions of anything happening between the two of us.

I opened my mouth to respond when Mrs. Johns yelled for everyone to dig in. I took the opportunity to dismiss myself to mingle, but really, I just wanted to get away from his intense stare.

Stephanie handed me a plate of food, which was excessively much, but I took it. It was obvious that Mom, Stephanie and Mrs. Johns watched me eat. There was no way out of not eating, even though I didn't feel like it. So, I downed two cucumber sandwiches and a variety of cheese and crackers with my favorite dip.

When she cut the cake, the front door dinged, drawing my attention to anyone else she could have invited—when I saw him. The him I'd been absently running from for over three years.

Remy Hanes stood in the doorway like a ghost from the past. My body warmed and broke at the same time. Remy's posture hadn't changed, that laid back, low-slung dark blue-jean, and don't mess with me, still fit him.

Dark eyes zeroed in on me from across the space of the restaurant. With one hand shoved into his pocket, the other glided through his dark head of hair that I'd once dreamed of doing.

Too bad nightmares had taken their place.

My mouth dried at the sight of him, even when he began that slow walk toward us, I felt myself dying on the inside. A frozen snapshot in time.

When I went back to college to finish, he didn't. Mrs. Johns randomly told me about him working at various jobs with a frown on her face. You never heard Lucas' name without Remy behind it. She'd been like family to Remy since his parents lived out of state.

Stephanie pinched my side, drawing my attention to her rather than my embarrassing trance. I turned to grab my plate when I noticed Mrs. Johns staring at me. Did she know? She couldn't, could she?

I never wanted her to find out about what happened with Remy and myself before or after the crash. I wasn't sure she'd love me anymore, and not having that piece of Lucas would kill me even more so on the inside.

"Hey, Remy," Mrs. Johns said, handing him a piece of cake.

He stopped on the other side of the table, taking the piece of cake Mrs. Johns handed him, but his eyes were on me.

Like so many times before. Before the crash, in class when I thought, someone watched me—it was him. Leaned back in his desk, pen tucked into the corner of his mouth, watching me as if I amused him.

This time amusement wasn't on his face. I couldn't imagine how but his jaw seemed sharper, but clenched beneath a five 'o clock shadow. He looked pissed.

Pissed at me for what happened. Pissed at me for ignoring him. Pissed at the world—I wasn't sure, but damn it I felt pissed too.

"Thanks, Mrs. Johns," he answered in that deep voice. I'd relished in his voice on the mountain when he whispered dirty things into my ear. When he promised everything would turn out right for the both of us.

Lies. All lies.

"I'm glad you made it," she said, patting his shoulder.

Stephanie gripped my waist, turning me toward an empty seat next to Steven. He patted it in invitation, which I would have taken anything over an awkward stare down with Remy. Even if it meant sitting by Steven.

I shoved a piece of cake into my mouth, my gaze drifted down the table where he sat by Mrs. Johns. He stared. I felt my skin begin to crawl. I wanted to flip him off or scream but what would that look like at my graduation party?

Keep it together, Janey.

"Jane!"

I jumped, noting Steven stared at me with wide eyes. "What is it?" I asked.

"I asked if you were ready to start your new job."

"Oh, yeah, sure."

His brows folded, but I couldn't care. I felt Remy's eyes on me again. All the pent-up emotions danced along my skin giving me goose bumps.

"Okay, y'all," Mrs. Johns said, clicking her fork against her glass. "Come on up here, Jane."

Oh no.

I shook my head but she gave me her famous pointed look, so I went anyway, knowing my resistance would do no good. I stood on the other side of her, away from Remy, when she grabbed my shoulder and demanded he stand up, too.

My adrenaline spiked when he wrapped his arm around Mrs. John's waist, his fingers brushing my own. Was it on purpose? Most likely.

"I'd like to say that I love these two people more than I love myself. When the good Lord took 

Lucas, Ash, and most of the Spanish II class and flight in Spain—for a short time I didn't know my purpose."

Me either.

Remy's finger reached out and brushed against my side again, this time pinching the fabric of my t-shirt. Fire bloomed underneath my skin for too many reasons to count.

I hated him for touching me—and I hated myself for wanting more of it.

"When these two survived, I knew they were part of my reason for living. They had been the two most important people in Lucas' life."

We were both liars.

Remy tugged on my t-shirt this time, and all my emotions slipped over into a raging ball of lust, hate and disgust at myself.

"Stop it!" I screamed.

The entire party went silent. Mrs. Johns turned to look at me, which made Remy step back behind her, eyes heavy on me—my mouth, my eyes—my pain.

"Sweetie, what's wrong—,"

I couldn't stand another minute with people looking at me, so I dashed outside into the humid Texas night and toward my Honda.