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2024-12-29 11:30:20Related chapters
The Boy Who Died Confession
MarcieEvery rustle in the bushes or shifting shadow makes me jump. When I finally reach the door, my fingers shake around the keys. My lips buzz like they’re reminding me of what just happened, making it impossible to forget. I just kissed Ben. Ben just kissed me. And I still don’t know if I’m crazy, or he’s exactly like Ryan.When I finally force the door open, Heather twists around on the couch.“Holy shit! Text next time, okay?” she says. “I thought you were getting ax-murdered or something.”I take a deep breath. I’ve really enjoyed having someone in my life who doesn’t look at me like I’m crazy. That’s at least half the reason I stopped living with my assigned roommate from freshman year. That, and her weird obsession with cabbage. But Heather is the only friendly face inside the mile or so to Dana’s office, and I feel like I’m about to rattle out of my skin. I close the door behind me, and the dam breaks.“My best friend in high school was named Ryan Evers.” Oh, God, I haven’t
Last Updated : 2025-01-04The Boy Who Died One Minute After Midnight
BenI rub my eyes and adjust the color grade on the action shot I snapped during the last football game by another degree. It’s so close, but it’s not quite right. This is a front-page photo. Scott said so when he saw it on my damn camera. I should’ve done this before I went out with Marcie.Despite my frustration, just thinking about her brings a smile to my face. Sure, I don’t really have many first dates to judge it against—I think—but that seemed like a pretty good first date. A pretty great one. When I kissed her, she just melted, and I got the first sense she was as nervous as me.God, I hope she couldn’t tell how nervous I was.I’ll just text her. Something cute. Low pressure, but trying to see if she wants to go out again.Yeah, like I know how to do that. I sigh and pick up my phone anyway. Hopefully, high pressure with a few nerdy references still gets the job done.My stomach drops as I look at the screen. It’s 12:01. A minute after I’m supposed to call Mom. My fingers slid
Last Updated : 2025-01-04The Boy Who Died Beautiful
MarcieThe sun shines down on my shoulders as I march along the path to class the morning after my date with Ben. Bright and warm. Just like I’m going to be.Because he’s going to be in class today.After weeks of avoiding the photography syllabus like it’s a snake, I finally took a look last night. Each Ben-class is marked with a little asterisk, like an inescapable black hole.I then checked Professor Washington’s dictatorial attendance policy. “Expedition” classes, which all of Ben’s are, can only be missed once a semester before you just fail.So, I adjust my backpack and practice my smile. I’m totally, completely normal. I went on a bad first date last night. Half the campus probably did. And at least half of those people have to face their bad-date-ee in class today. Statistically, I wouldn’t even stand out on a graph.I freeze at the doorway to the classroom. Ben leans over one of the desks, fiddling with something in a black bag. A camera bag. Nothing scary.My heart crashes a
Last Updated : 2025-01-04The Boy Who Died Role Reversal
Marcie“My turn,” I blurt. There’s something way too earnest in his blue eyes. It crawls over my skin, icy and strange.Ben blinks. “Oh. Uh, yeah. You want to use your camera or mine?”“Mine.” I yank the rest of the leaves from my jacket, then shed it entirely. It’s way too hot for a jacket anyway. I stuff it back in my bag then pull out my camera.Compared to Ben’s, it’s dinky.But he’s a professional photographer. There’s no point in comparing. I just need to get a good enough shot to convince myself I’m making things up.“Uh, go sit,” I say. “No, you did that. Stand.”“You can do stuff I did.” Ben stands in front of the tree. “I am, in theory, the teacher.”Don’t remind me. I set up a simple shot. He’s tall enough that I can use his body to mark the thirds in the picture.It looks terrible. I take it anyway. But when I look in the viewfinder, his eyes are closed.“You blinked,” I say.“Sorry.” He smiles awkwardly. “We can do one where I’m holding my eyes open?”“I think Kubrick cov
Last Updated : 2025-01-04The Boy Who Died Opening a Window
Marcie“I’m glad your schoolwork is going well.” The next day, Dana takes a few notes and glances over her glasses at me. “But you know we’re not just here to get you to graduation. How have things been socially?”“I think I’m actually better friends with Heather.” I smile. Ever since my Ben-Ryan confession, she’s been really sweet. Waiting the extra five minutes before leaving for work so she can check in with me. Picking up snacks I like from Bean and Gone. Asking me to hang out. I’ve been kinda by myself for so long that I forgot what having real friends is like.“That’s wonderful.” Dana smiles. “Do you know what precipitated the change?”I stare at the geometric pattern on her carpet. After class yesterday, I broached the topic of Ben with Heather again. Not anything about the date, just…the idea of trying to be friends with him. Build up my tolerance–or whatever. Heather recoiled like I said I was going to try meth just to see what it was like and spun off on a huge speech about
Last Updated : 2025-01-04The Boy Who Died Old Friend
Marcie“Lily,” Theresa says. “Lily Nelson?My other best friend from high school sounds exactly the same as I remember and nothing like herself. The helium-inspired bubbliness is gone from her voice, but my name rolls off her tongue just like it used to.On the other side of the cafeteria, the jocks roar with laughter. Theresa rolls her eyes.“Do they think we’ll forget about them if we look away for too long?” she asks.I shake my head. “I think it’s like a mating call. Lions roaring in the jungle.”Ryan laughs. “There are no lions in the jungle, Li—”I suck in a deep breath and clutch the splintery edge of the bench I’m sitting on. Warm September sunlight surrounds me, warm like it never would have been in Indiana at this time of year. I’m at college. It’s been six years. I’m here.“Yeah.” My voice breaks. “It’s been a while.”“It certainly has.” She sounds a little stiff. “What, six years? A little more?”“Six years, three months, and eighteen days,” I rattle off automatically. Shi
Last Updated : 2025-01-04The Boy Who Died Unforgettable
MarcieFor real, I text Ben, I need to know where we’re going so I can get dressed.With the message sent, I return to pacing back and forth in my room. I’m going to wear a track in the carpet, but it’s 5:15, half an hour before Ben’s supposed to pick me up for our second date, and he still won’t tell me where we’re going. I told him to pick me up because hiding where I live from him was crazy, and I’m not crazy.Tell that to the billion and a half outfits I’ve considered and discarded, now covering my bed.My phone vibrates, and I nearly break a nail opening it, desperate for it to be the email from Theresa that still hasn’t arrived.Just a response from Ben. Close-toed shoes. And (as much as I hate to say it) probably not a skirt or dress. Embrace not knowing!!Apparently, the surprise is part of what will make this date so special. Maybe I have enough to get dressed, at least.He texts that he’s here as I’m finishing my braid. I race into the living room. Heather and Everett are cu
Last Updated : 2025-01-04The Boy Who Died To the Wind
MarcieMy ribs start to crush my lungs. I open my mouth in shock. He presses forward, and I can’t help it. I flinch back.Ben releases me immediately. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…. Well, I guess—”“It’s fine.” I unfasten the belt holding me in the kart and climb out. “Really.”“O…kay.” He follows me slowly. “I can take you home now. We don’t have to do the rest of the date.”My heart thunders. Heather’s warning about being safe rings in my ears. I shake my head.“What ‘rest’ is there?”Awkwardly, Ben leads me into the Laser Game Emporium proper. It’s even louder in here, the laser tag warring with the arcade. The smell of fried food winds through the air, and he gestures to a smorgasbord of options that make my mouth fall open again. I’ve never seen so many food choices in one place.“I figured we’d pick a selection, and then, uh, I have a picnic blanket in the trunk, and they close the track in half an hour.” He shrugs. “Thought we could eat under the stars.”I am having a good time, so I
Last Updated : 2025-01-04
Latest chapter
The Boy Who Died Where It Started
LilyAt the end of our two weeks with Ryan’s mom, I’m lying in the bed in our hotel room waiting for him. I’m completely exhausted. Since he’s been going over there almost every day, I’ve been amusing myself with what there is to do around Galesburg, and there’s really not a lot. I’m bored enough that being bored makes me tired, but we’re finally leaving tomorrow. Heading back to Ardent, because I still have a lease, though we haven’t really talked about what happens next for us.I guess I could’ve kept going to his mom’s house, but watching the two of them reunite has been… weird. I just keep thinking about my mom, whom I cut off with everyone else. She didn’t even kill my dad via choices she might’ve been manipulated into making. I’ve picked up my phone half a dozen times, intending to text her and see how things are. But I don’t know what follows that. I can’t imagine going back to Dillsboro for the holidays, reappearing at family gatherings like nothing happened. It just kind of f
The Boy Who Died Coming Home
RyanThe day after they release me from the hospital, I drum my fingers on my knees as the suburban streets I thought I knew all my life but really only knew for six years whip by outside. Heather and Everett dug up nearly everything I could want to know about Julia and Arthur Daugherty but much less about their apparent partner, Marissa McGuire. Or Beverly Evers. Or Laurel Andrews. My mother.Lily puts her hand on mine. “Stop fidgeting. If you mess up your stitches, they’re going to kill me.”I smile. “Kill you? Why? I thought your quick thinking saved my life?”She shakes her head. “It was a through-and-through, and it only got your large intestine. Painful, likely to get infected, but not immediately deadly.”“We waited their ten days!” I tap my other fingers on my other knee, even though it makes the recently stitched surgical scar in my side burn.“I am driving.” She scowls at me quickly. “Do you want to not die in another car crash, just to prove that you’re immortal?”“Sorry!”
The Boy Who Died Last Chance
LilyIf I thought running through this warehouse was torture with Dana chasing me, I was an idiot.“Ryan!” I scream.Still no answer. I retrace my steps back to our little hideout, take off in the same direction he did. My heart hammers. Is he hurt? Should I have taken the gun? Am I going to round the next corner and come face-to-face with Scott—Arthur? Am I already too late?I pour on whatever speed I have left, looking for any clue.There! That stupid cheese dust Ryan threw at them, smeared on the wall. I hang a sharp right.“Ryan!” I shout again.Nothing. With each step, I feel like I’m falling through time. The park on prom night. The car before his funeral, when I refused to go. The street I almost followed the hallucination into. The time I got lost on a field trip, and he was the only one to come looking for me. Ryan, Ryan, Ryan.I am not going to lose him again.The smell of iron pulls me to an open office. I whip inside and skid in a puddle of blood.Blood spatters like it ne
The Boy Who Died Staring Crazy in the Face
MarcieI sprint down one of the identical halls of this part of the warehouse, Ryan’s T-shirt whipping around my otherwise naked body, my heart hammering in my throat.Being shot at from an SUV was crazy. Finding Ryan was crazy. The shooters following us to this warehouse is crazy. But one of the shooters, one of the people who tried to kill Ryan in the first place, being the therapist I’ve trusted with my life nearly every day of the past six years?I’m starting to think I don’t actually know what the word crazy means anymore.Scott thunders after Ryan, and I pray he’s got more of a plan than running and hiding. The “newspaper editor” looks furious.Oh, fuck, did he kill Mrs. Mathers?Heels click along the hallway behind me, and I put all thoughts of the ex-editor out of my mind. Apparently, my bare feet aren’t quiet enough. Dana—if that’s actually her name—is coming after me.I blink, and I’m in that crappy little park on prom night, watching two women drag Ryan away. Was she really
The Boy Who Died Fearless
Ryan“Fuck!” I leap up, toss a T-shirt to Lily, and sprint for the door between this room and the one with the table and chairs, hoping to shut it. I don’t have a plan past that. The reason we picked the second office is because it has no other entrances or exits, not even windows.Someone fires a gun, and I throw myself to the side. The bullet thuds into something, and thank fuck, Lily doesn’t scream. No matter what else I remember—or what I’ve recognized—I know immediately that my body isn’t used to this. I wasn’t secretly dodging bullets while everyone else was in eighth grade. Which means I’ve pretty much got Ben’s skills to rely on.We’re fucked.“Present yourselves, and we’ll handle this cleanly,” a feminine voice says.“Dana?” Lily whispers.I glance at her. She’s put my T-shirt on, but it barely reaches mid-thigh on her. And she looks completely lost. So am I. I don’t know anyone named Dana, or—No, I kind of know that voice. I heard it once. My skin goes cold as I place it wi
The Boy Who Died Lily
RyanMy heart aches. That name echoes in my chest. “No.”Marcie swipes her tears away. “I think you do, somewhere in there, or you wouldn’t have come to Ardent.”“I want to.” I squeeze her hips, anchoring myself in her. “Tell me… something. About him.”“About you.” She smiles softly. “When you moved to town in first grade, someone accidentally sent your mom the second-grade supply list, so you showed up on the first day with all this stuff other people didn’t have. Markers and glue sticks and shit.”Another echo. Back in the hospital, right after I woke up, the doctors said things would feel familiar before I actually remembered them, but they never did. Was this what they meant all along?“Your cubby was right above Theresa’s,” she continues.“Theresa?” The word feels familiar on my tongue. “T?”Marcie’s eyes light up. “That’s what we called her, yeah. Lil, Ry, and T.”They all sound familiar. No memories, but the unavoidable feeling I know those names. I’ve said them all before. My
The Boy Who Died Ryan
MarcieI feel like I’m in the eye of a storm as I stare around the abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Sycamore. Everett is saying something about property values and what this place used to be, but I can’t pay attention.I’ve spent years falling apart at the slightest provocation. At a blond guy in the wrong place, at a cologne I haven’t smelled since—Ryan.Who’s walking next to Everett with his hands in his pockets, who I’ve fallen for every time I met him. I’ve spent years falling apart, and I don’t know what it means, but right now, I’ve never felt more together. Heather sniffles next to me, clutching my hand. Everett seems to be babbling because he can’t figure out anything else to do. But I’m not worried.And I might not be crazy either.“So, anyway, we could hit up the northeast quadrant?” Everett shrugs. “Heard my dad say something about a foreman or a surveyor or something starting over there. They might have some shit.”Ryan nods. I can’t call him anything else now. He
The Boy Who Died What the Fuck?
BenSomething in my chest reverberates when she says the name Ryan. Something else twangs when the SUV whips into the road. I don’t know what to do with any of it, or the insane implication that a football player has been running forensic tests on me in secret.None of that matters now.“Get in the car!” I shout.Marcie, Heather, and Everett just look from me to the SUV. One of its windows buzzes down, and something dark pokes out. Neurons I don’t remember having fire. That’s the muzzle of a gun.No time left. I grab Marcie’s upper arm—the meathead doesn’t even try to stop me—and start yanking her toward my car. Theirs is across the street, and we need anything that’ll stand in the way of us and bullets, even a crappy sedan. Marcie moves when I pull her like she was waiting for instructions. Heather and Everett spur into motion. I slam into the driver’s seat, toss Marcie in the passenger’s. The back door is still open when the first bullets fly.In movies, bullets always sound so spec
The Boy Who Died Not Going Alone
MarcieAfter therapy, I stand in front of my apartment door for a long moment. The Arkly is putting out a special paper tonight for the game, so Heather is at the office. Theresa told me a while ago that she splits Sundays between family time and grading, so I shouldn’t call if I actually want to talk. Everett was really nice last night, but I can’t exactly call him my friend. Which means as soon as I walk inside, I’ll be alone.With my thoughts. And the sinking feeling I can’t just avoid this problem.Something crashes on a lower floor, and I jump. It’s a trash can lid. I memorized that sound ages ago. But right now, it feels like anything could be Ben-Ryan coming to get me. Maybe being alone isn’t so bad after all. I shove my key into the lock and open the door quickly.“Hey,” Heather calls from the kitchen.I blink. “Uh, hi?”“Sorry, I was gonna text, but I literally just walked in.” She pads out of the kitchen, still dressed for work and carrying a bag of chips. “Scott closed the
