I had a feeling my eyes had widened, too. I could barely believe what I was seeing. Kara, the curvy, bouncy, gorgeous, animated girl I’d left behind was standing right in front of me, but none of those things—except maybe gorgeous—could describe her any longer.
She was thin, real thin, and not in a way that was natural to her body. She’d had some baby fat when we were teenagers, but her curves had held the promise of a fucking pin-up body. That wasn’t what I was seeing. She looked dainty. Breakable.
The long hair she’d been so proud of and had fiddled with and flipped over her shoulders like it was her job was now short and pulled into a tight ponytail at the base of her neck. She wore no makeup. In fact, she hadn’t dressed up at all, even though all of the other women had. She was wearing a plain gray sweatshirt and a pair of jeans.
And more than anything else, it seemed like the light inside her, the indefinable thing that had drawn me to her since we were twelve years old—had disappeared.
It took less than a second for me to notice all of those things, but longer for my mind to catch up with what I was seeing.
“What the fuck?” I breathed, unreasonably angry at what I was seeing. “Kara?”
Without thinking, I reached out and yanked the ponytail from her hair. The loose strands fell around her face in small waves, and for a second it calmed me. But it didn’t last.
“The hell happened to you?” I asked, staring at her.
“Hey, Draco,” she replied calmly, tilting her chin up. The little gesture gave me a sliver of hope that the girl I’d known wasn’t completely gone—but that was dashed in an instant when she continued. “It’s good to see you. I hope you’re well.”
It was like a lit match in a pool of gasoline. I couldn’t have stopped myself if I tried.
“You hope I’m well?” I asked, my voice rising with every word. “Who the fuck are you?”
Kara stood her ground even though her eyes darted to the side.
“Hey, now,” Charlie said, skidding to a stop as she rounded the corner. “Gettin’ a little loud back here.”
“You didn’t tell me,” I spat, looking from Kara to Charlie and back again.
“This is something we should probably talk about later,” Charlie said soothingly.
“She have a lobotomy?” I asked flatly, keeping my eyes on Kara. Her nostrils flared.
“No,” she ground out. “I didn’t have a lobotomy.”
“Then what the fuck is this?” I asked, tossing the hair tie on the floor. “Why are you lookin’ at me like you don’t know me?”
That was the part that hit the hardest. The distance in her eyes. I knew three years before when, without warning, she’d stopped coming to see me that something was wrong. I’d asked everyone how she was, if they’d talked to her, what was going on—but no one had an answer for me. I’d eventually come to my own conclusion that it was just too hard for her to deal with seeing me in there. I fucking hated it, but I could understand it. She was young. We were both young. It was a lot.
But this was something different. This wasn’t someone who’d moved on. The person in front of me had changed completely. She’d faded away.
“Of course I know you,” Kara said quietly, reaching out to touch my arm. She dropped her hand as soon as she made contact.
She looked up and met my eyes, and I held her there, refusing to look away. I wanted to know what the hell was going on. What had happened to her to turn her into this shell. I wanted to see the person I’d been missing for four goddamn years. If I looked at her long enough, if I just waited, maybe I’d catch a glimpse of the girl who’d wrapped herself around me like a vine, refusing to let me talk to the police.
The patience I’d learned after years of staring at the same three cinderblock walls night after night paid off.
“Draco,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes as she tried to smile.
“Jesus Christ,” I said in relief, wrapping my arms around her waist so fast that her forehead knocked into my collarbone. I didn’t pause, pulling her tight against me until her toes barely touched the ground. “I missed you, baby,” I said against her neck. “Fuck, I missed you.”
Her hands moved slowly, but eventually, they slid around my neck until she was holding me just as tightly. She didn’t speak, but I could feel her tears drop onto my ear and roll down my neck.
“Oh, thank God,” Charlie said. “Maybe you can finally be the one that talks some sense into her.”
I didn’t reply. I was too busy soaking up the feel of Kara. My Kara. The girl that I’d never had the chance to claim, but I’d never lost the spark for. I’d craved her, the sight of her, the smell of her, the sound of her voice and her laugh, the way she’d complained, the way she’d gone full tilt when she was into something, even the way she’d sat with her nose in a book while the rest of us worked out or played sports. Hell, when we were kids, she’d lit me up.