I’ve talked to him over FaceTime during this past week, but this is the first time I’ve actually been with him in person since that hectic night where we were in a car accident and almost killed by Andrew’s orders. Being in Aiden’s arms now, hearing his steady heartbeat and feeling the tight muscles in his back, I can say with absolute certainty that nothing can substitute for the feeling of actually being with him in person.
“Are you okay?” he whispers to me.
There’s something about sharing a traumatic, life threatening experience with someone that brings you immediately closer to them. When you think about it, Aiden and I kind of saved each other’s lives. Actually, not kind of. We did. Harvey’s gun was pointed at me when he pulled the trigger, but the shot went wide because of Aiden’s quick thinking. Harvey started slicing Aiden’s throat but stopped when I shot him, and I’m so grateful my aim was good that day.
Being with Aiden now, I instinctively know that no matter what happens in my life, he’ll always be close to my heart.
I nod to answer his question. “Are you?”
He pushes a piece of hair behind my ear and pulls back to meet my eyes. “I’m better now.”
My heart flutters, and I remember when he said something similar to me after we got separated at the Tracks when the cops busted the races, which seems like forever ago.
Annalisa clears her throat. “I wanted to know how you were, too, in case you were wondering.”
I laugh and pull away from Aiden so that Annalisa can have her turn with him.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” she says when they pull out of their hug.
Just then, Noah and Julian come around the corner and pull Aiden into one of those bro hugs.
“I knew we’d find you here,” Julian says to Aiden with a quick glance in my direction.
“But would it kill you to answer a text message every once in a while?” Noah complains as he gives Aiden a shove.
Aiden rolls his eyes and steps aside so I can open my locker.
“Hey, how are the twins handling all of this?” Annalisa asks. “Have you explained everything to them yet?”
Aiden sighs and runs his hand through his hair, which I just noticed is getting kind of long now.
“I mean, just like with the whole finding Greg dead outside our house thing, I didn’t exactly tell them everything. But they know who Andrew Kessler is now, and they don’t really care for him. So since we’re staying at Mason’s for a bit, Brian and Natalia have been really good with keeping them occupied and getting them ready for back to school.”
Ever since Aiden’s arrest, Mason’s dad has legal custody over Aiden and his brothers, Jason and Jackson, until Aiden turns eighteen and is allowed to file for custody. I’m guessing it’s working out pretty well for now, since Aiden’s been dealing with a media frenzy and it’s helpful to have actual adults around that you can depend on.
The warning bell rings, so we all start moving toward class. As we walk, Aiden grabs my hand in his bigger one, and I smile as I look up at him.
“Hey, just a heads-up, don’t make plans this Friday.” Noah smiles not so innocently.
Aiden sighs, already knowing what he’s talking about. “I told you, I don’t want a birthday party.”
“You’re turning eighteen in two days! You’re getting a birthday party! My house. This Friday. Be there.” Noah stresses the importance of each word.
“Noah, the last time you threw a party, you ended up in the hospital,” I point out, and I know none of us want a repeat of that. Especially right now.
He looks at me thoughtfully, then says, “You can’t just stop trying to live because something bad happened. We’re just gonna pull up our big boy and girl pants and throw the best damn party that Aiden deserves. And no one is going to talk me out of it.” He looks at us with narrowed eyes, challenging any of us to disagree.
It’s Aiden’s party, so really, he gets the final say. He sighs, mumbling something that sounds like “Fine, whatever,” under his breath, making Noah smile triumphantly.
As we walk, something about Noah’s words resonate with me. Bad things happen in life—especially mine lately—and we can’t let that stop us from living. I am going to get through this senior year and have a normal life if it kills me, which it honestly just might. With my new resolution coursing through my veins, I feel more determined than ever.
“What classes do you have after lunch again? History, spare, then math with me?” Aiden asks me as we walk up the stairs.
“English, spare, then math. Why?”
“We have a sub for math.” His eyes light up mischievously. “What do you say we get out of here after English and go do something?”
“Like what?” I ask, trying to hide my absolute delight. Alone time with Aiden? Don’t have to ask me twice! We haven’t had any real alone time since before the accident.