Скачать книгу

       Copyright

      Wasn’t fire supposed to be fierce, unpredictable or even dangerous? Micah twirled a strand of her flame-colored hair, wondering how she had lost the spark associated with its vibrant strands. Had the flame been extinguished years ago, or had it been a slow, gradual fade?

      She wasn’t even sure anymore. It was as if the last ten years had all been a lie. She had gone through the motions of healing, of moving on, only fooling herself into believing she was past it. But this semblance of a life was all a facade. It was obvious to her now. She had only buried the pain, denied its existence.

      Until now.

      Half a day spent lying in her bed had done nothing to comfort her like it should. She held the teddy bear Drew had given her close to her body, trying to capture any of its comforting magic, but sadly that too was failing to comfort her. On this dreary day in October, it seemed nothing could assuage the pain. It was like a fresh wound all over again.

      Her phone signaled an incoming text message. Josh’s name appeared on the screen.

      Just wanted to check in on you. Make sure you’re doing ok. Text me back <3

      She ignored it, just as she had ignored all the others she had received today. She didn’t want to talk to him yet. As her closest friend, Josh had been her distraction, the one who pulled her from depression and back to the land of the living. She knew he would try to shake her from her reverie and she didn’t want that. Instead she chose to stay lost in her memories for just a little longer.

      Throwing her phone aside, Micah decided this pity party needed to be taken up a notch. She rolled out of bed, slipped into a pair of obnoxious but oh-so-comfortable slippers and made her way to the kitchen. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror on the way, she stopped to take note of her once flawless, porcelain skin, now a ghostly shade of white. She looked hollow and empty. Dark circles surrounded her sad eyes. She was in a pathetic state. The last two months of depression had taken a toll on her. Her recent weight gain and carelessness with her appearance did not help the picture before her, but it was an accurate reflection of what she felt on the inside.

      Continuing to the kitchen, she headed straight to the freezer, where a pint of her favorite ice cream was stashed behind bags of frozen vegetables. She had known in advance the ice cream would be needed. Sabina, her roommate, was out running errands and would be gone for a little while longer—just enough time to start a crime-drama marathon while enjoying her frozen vice without judgment.

      But based on the disapproving look on Sabina’s face two hours later, judgment was what she received.

      “What’s going on?” Sabina’s eyes took in everything, her finger hooking the rim of the empty carton of ice cream, lifting it for further examination. “Please tell me you didn’t eat this entire thing by yourself. And what’s with the pajamas? Did you just get out of bed?”

      Micah searched her mind for something to say to defend herself against the barrage of accusations, but she had nothing. She was guilty of all the above.

      “You’ve got to snap out of it, Micah. I know you’re hurting right now. But this has got to end, and preferably soon.”

      “Well, it won’t be today. How can I not think about him on a day like this?”

      “There’s a difference, though. The rest of us are celebrating his life, while you...while you’ve been acting like he just died. It’s been ten years.” Sabina threw her hand up in exasperation. “Come on. We don’t have time to debate this now. You’re in desperate need of a shower and we’re supposed to meet everyone in two hours.”

      * * *

      The bright city lights, wailing sirens, honking horns, aggressive drivers fighting through traffic, the slight fish smell left over from market—things that others might complain about. But for Micah it all signified one thing—Boston, her home. She loved every single bit of it: every angry Irishman, Italian mobster, historical landmark and, not to be forgotten, blessed lobstah.

      Micah and her four friends—Josh, Sabina, Hanna and Jamie—walked the streets of Boston as if they owned the city. Of course, Sabina, a model, probably thought she did. And Hanna probably could in a few years, at the rate she was going. Micah was definitely the odd one out in this successful, good-looking group, but she had put her best foot forward tonight in a worthy attempt to fit in with them.

      It was a Friday night and the city was alive despite the dropping temperatures. As they crossed the busy street together, sounds of Boston’s nightlife came out to greet them. Already-drunk college students littered the streets. One girl in particular stood out as she yelled at every passing taxi, “Do you have a breath mint? Does anyone have a freakin’ breath mint?” What the heck? People were just downright crazy!

      This wasn’t Micah’s scene, but it was a sacred night, hence the heels, fancy top and false eyelashes she’d been talked into wearing. It was probably the first time she had dressed up since last October. Her feet were already killing her in these shoes. Sabina always had a way of talking her into something she knew she would regret later.

      When going out in public with someone as beautiful as her roommate, you had two choices. You could dress up, join her and pray you didn’t stick out like a sore thumb, or give up entirely and throw on the yoga pants that had never actually been to a yoga class. Three hundred and sixty-four days of the year Micah chose to give up before she started and donned the yoga pants.

      “Gawd, I love this city at night! Why don’t we do this anymore?” Sabina twirled as she walked, arms wide open, head thrown back. She stumbled a little in her four-inch heels on the uneven cobblestone, but Jamie was quick to catch her.

      “Because we have jobs and lives and because only college students and creepy old people hit up this part of Boston on a Friday night.”

      “If you are going to have any hope of fun tonight, you’re going to have to change that attitude of yours,” Hanna said as she pursed her lips and quirked her eyebrows.

      “My attitude? I don’t have an at—” Okay, maybe she did. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. I don’t plan on having any fun tonight. So there.” What was she? Five?

      “It’s Drew’s night. Fun is a requirement.”

      “I never agreed to that rule.” She looked over at Jamie. Although he was Drew’s cousin, they had been more like brothers. She knew out of everyone that he would understand. But in his typical quiet-guy fashion, he shrugged his shoulders, telling her she was on her own.

      “C’mon, Micah. Drew lived for stuff like this, so if we’re really going to honor his memory like we have for years, then we need to have fun. You included. This is what he would have wanted and you know it.”

      “He would not want a droopy-faced, depressed version of his Micah,” Josh said as he put his arm around her to soften his words. “I know these anniversaries are hard on you, but you’ve made it through nine already. What’s so different about this one? You can do it. I know you can.”

      Micah couldn’t refute that. She had done just fine these last ten years. So why was this one so hard on her?

      The crisp Boston air sent a chill through her body. She pulled her coat up higher around her neck and buried in closer to Josh, allowing his sheer size to block the cold October winds whipping between the buildings.

      “Cold?” Josh asked as he pulled her closer and moved his hand up and down her arm in an effort to warm her. “You care to explain why you ignored all my texts today?”

      “Not really.”

      “So you don’t deny it?”

      “No. I was ignoring you.”

      “How

Скачать книгу