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“I miss her.”
“I know that, too.”
Taking a deep breath, I exhale and try to imagine my stress going with it. My shoulders sag as I stare back at my sister. She means well, and this has to be hard for her too, but I just wish I could get my girl back.
“I don't like that guy.”
She smiles when she sees I'm calmer now. “Me either.”
I drop my head and nod. “I'm going to listen to music. Maybe go to sleep early.”
“You'll be okay?” Zayn questions.
“Yeah,” I answer honestly. “Just sucks.”
“All right, man. Let us know if you need anything.”
I thank them both and make my way upstairs and into my room. As soon as I shut the door behind me, I realize how not okay I actually am. Who does this prick think he is? All I know is that he better be just a friend, because if I find out he's more, I just might lose my shit.
The party is in full swing as I walk down the stairs, feeling on top of the world. I head for the fridge to grab a beer. Sexual exhaustion can make you thirsty as a motherfucker. As I wrap my hand around a bottle and pull it out, Zayn calls my name.
“How's Tess? She okay?” he asks.
I can't help but smile. “Couldn't be better.Wecouldn't be better.”
He raises a single brow. “You mean, you two...”
“Yep.” I bring the bottle to my lips and go to take a sip, when it hits me. “Wait. This isn't real.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Shaking my head, dread sets in. “This is a dream. It's not real. And when I go upstairs...”
Shit, Tessa!
The beer falls from my hand and shatters on the floor as I run for the stairs. I take them two at a time and rush for the bathroom door, but I already know when I get in there it's going to be too late. Still, I kick like my life is depending on it. Wood flies as I finally get it open, and sure enough, I find her slumped on the floor.
“Tessa!” I drop to my knees and grab her face, but it's not Tess after all.
It's Kennedy.
Her breathing is shallow and the color drains from her face right in front of me. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I pat her cheeks to try to wake her up, but she won't budge.
“Kennedy!” I scream. “Zayn!”
Each breath she takes seems further apart as my panic rises.
“Don't do this. Don't leave me,” I beg.
My vision is blurred as tears fill my eyes, but I can't stop.
I can't let her go.
I won't.
“Kennedy!”
Zayn appears in the doorway, but he just stands there—staring at me. No fear. No panic. No emotion at all. He doesn't even seem to care that Kennedy is dying right in front of me.
