Or you can actively choose to remember Violet as your best friend who loved you.”
I thought about what my mom said, and she was right. The night of her party, the night Violet died, she had so much going on in her own life, but she still stood up for me, and she died trying to protect me. She loved me the best way that she could, and I loved her completely. We all had faults and flaws, and we loved each other in spite of them. She wasn’t here to explain herself, and I owed it to my best friend to love her in spite of the things I found out. She was still the girl I grew up with—still my best friend.
Dear Diary,
I almost told Breeze today. We were sitting in my bedroom. I could practically feel the pulse of life in my stomach. We were talking about the normal things. School. Boys. The future. She looked so calm. So sure of herself and her happy life. I love her, Diary. I really do. But I know if she knew the truth, she’d hate me. So I pretended, like I always do. I let her think the world was good. I let her think I was her best friend.
XOXO,
Violet
The weekend had gone by far too quickly. Talking to my mom had helped clear my head and gave me a new perspective, but I wasn’t looking forward to being around everybody at school—especially now that the rumors were spreading like wildfire that Chase had killed Violet. People could be so cruel, finding a hint of sensationalized gossip and grasping it in their fists. They didn’t really need an excuse to spread their lies.
I kept my head down and did my best to ignore the whispers in the hallways as I walked to my classes. I swung by my locker on the way to my last class of the day, and when I opened the door, the picture of Violet greeted me. Instead of bringing tears to my eyes, the photo made me smile at how radiant and happy she looked. I put my books away and shut the locker door to find Chase standing on the other side.
The smile vanished from my lips as I stared at him. My mother’s words about Chase being lost echoed in my mind. I took a deep breath and tried to push the image of Celeste’s neck with the finger-shaped marks out of my mind.
“What do you want, Chase?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just wanted to check on you.” Chase’s eye was swollen, black, and blue. He had a busted lip and swollen face. He looked like hell.
“I’m fine,” I replied stiffly.
Chase huffed before closing in on me. He wrapped his arms around my trembling body and pulled me into his chest. I breathed in his woodsy scent, grounded by the sober safety he offered. This was the Chase I knew and loved. Comforting and protective. “I’m sorry, Breezy Baby. I’ve been a shit friend lately. Do you hate me?”
I squeezed him tighter. “You know it would take more than a stupid, drunken night for me to hate you.”
Chase pulled back. “Oh really?” he asked, cocking his brow. “That’s good. Because apparently, I murdered my sister. Or at least that’s what everyone at this fucking school is insinuating now. For the record, Celeste likes to be choked when we fuck. I just went a little too hard last time.”
His words made me want to gag, but I wasn’t hit in the gut with the jealous revulsion l came to expect whenever I thought of Chase with someone else. Maybe I was finally getting over my crush. As I became closer to Kai, my feelings evolved. Chase would always be important to me, but the more I learned about him, the more I realized that although there was friendship there, he wasn’t healthy for me. Maybe now we could actually be friends without the pressure of something more hanging over us.
Chase wrapped his hand around my wrist and pulled it up to his mouth, kissing the sensitive skin there with tender lips. “What are you doing?” I asked while watching him gaze lovingly at me.
“I’m done with Celeste, Breezy Baby. Done with everything.” Although his words were meant to make me soar with hope, I just felt relief that he would stop using her. I actually felt pretty bad for Celeste. It wasn’t fair that Chase fucked his way through grief.