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Back Where There's A Will Save as PDF
Chapters (39)
  1. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  2. PROLOGUE
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. Interlude
  37. Acknowledgements
  38. Content Warning
  39. About the Author

There’s an ocean of years separating us. Secrets and unspoken questions sluicing through the waves like grains of sand.

And yet, it all falls away in this moment.

This stretched out, heartbeat of a moment where I’m suddenly eleven years old again.

And there’s this boy—this beautiful, raven-haired boy with eyes like a sunlit forest—staring back at me as if he’s seconds from diving into the water to reach me.

As if he’s been waiting and waiting and waiting for a break in the waves.

A chance.

But like everything, it’s not lasting. Just a glimpse of a path not taken.

And this moment—this chance—it’s nothing but a wish upon the stars for something that will never be. Not when that boy who is now nearly a man is staring back at me as if it would make no difference if I drowned and lost myself to the sea.

Swallowing, I’m the first to break the connection as I glance down at my wet hands.

The girl giggles and it grates on my ears. “Oh. Hi. Sorry—”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

I blink up at Waylon in the mirror, and even though on the outside, I remain impassive, inside, something gives a great jolt at the outright hostility biting at his words. His jaw is sharp enough to cut. Eyes I only seconds ago found myself lost in, gaze back at me like shards of glass. Cold. Vacant.

I nod to myself. So it’s really going to be like that then.

I reach to my left and rip off a piece of paper towel. Eyes focused on drying my hands, I count my breaths as I take my time finishing up. I can feel more than see the way the girl he brought in here fidgets awkwardly. Her heels clap along the floor as she shuffles and teeters.

Tossing the paper towel into the trash bin, I finally turn around. I force a small smile and lift my eyebrow. Gesturing magnanimously to the small space, I say, “As you were.”

I don’t miss the tick in his jaw as I start to make my way past them.

Just as I reach the door, I grab the wooden frame and look over my shoulder. Unable to help myself, I whisper, “Good show, Way.”

And with that, I leave, not missing the words spoken behind me. Following me out the door like a rabid beast—claws out and ready to strike. With my head held high, and a smile mashing my teeth, I can almost pretend they don’t shred me to pieces.

“Who was that?”

“Nobody.”

7

7

Waylon McAllister

There’s something about Will Foster that makes me want to throw his head in a blender.

He’s grown to be quite full of himself—that’s for fucking sure.