Page 32

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Koda

Weeks. More than three of them.

In those three weeks I poured through every single picture of her. I found an app that had them saved to a cloud account after Jeremy gave me her phone back. I’m a little baffled that he would give it to me, and not Penny. But, just like the sketch pad all those months ago, I didn't hand it over.

No one has spoken about the Cunts leaving again. It almost seemed like it had been a bluff, but Penny wouldn’t kid about something like that.

I stare at the photos I’ve memorized at this point. There are plenty of her with Penny doing regular stuff. Some of tattoos. There are some of people I don’t recognize, which are all moody and grainy like they were taken on a shittier phone and have traveled through her cloud account to make it here.

There are some of one guy grabbing her ass or boobs and another looking like he’s about to murder them. He’s a scary looking guy, but Boob Guy doesn’t seem to give a fuck. One man with black hair that has red tips seems to be someone she’s always talking to, or at, depending on how you look at it. They’re usually doing thinking poses in front of things or in the corner of a party with masks on in deep discussion.

Ashland has brown hair in several of them, then it turns purple, and that’s when things start to amp up. It looks like she’s in a bunch of different cities, usually surrounded by stage equipment. She’s with Sinclair. They pose on walls. Sometimes they’re doing graffiti. There’s even some of Ashland on his back kissing his cheek, or messing up his hair before both of them dyed theirs.

The similarities are striking. They’re so similar in character, always flicking off the camera or doing something ridiculous. You can’t always see Sinclair’s eyes. Sometimes he’s wearing blackout contacts, making himself look like a demon. You can tell they’re close, but I had never heard of Sinclair until she was almost dead.

Candids of her with the Scary Guy are everywhere. This must be the one who wrote her an album. The one who never held her hand. Her ex. They’re hugging, his arms wrapped around her like he’s shielding her from the world. She’s sitting on the edge of a stage, looking down, while he has his guitar in his lap. They’re all over Europe in different places taking weird pictures, usually hiding their faces, but I can tell it’s him. There are some of them laughing, carrying on about something. I would have thought that guy has never laughed a day in his fucking life, but it seems like Ashland brings that out of him. She has that effect on people.

All of her photos with Penny are in their own album. Pizza face down on the floor with Penny pouting. Candids of Penny in the art building or standing at the kitchen counter. There are pictures of them partying, and it makes me laugh. They’re having movie nights. There are epic kitchen failures, even setting it on fire. Eating candy. Standing in a few different cities. They’re always being the ridiculous cunts I have come to know and love.

I delete every single one featuring Cole. She can be mad at me about it later. When she wakes up she’s going to hate me anyways, because I’m the one who left her that night.

There’s one of me in the locker room, headphones on with my face in a book, studying. A lot of them have text, and she must have sent them to Penny. Various statements, completely roasting me in only the way Ashland can. Some of them, though, are of us. I didn’t know she was taking them. We’re in the car. I’m doing my stupid thing with the plates. We’re painting. Then the candids. The one of us watching Barbie. Ashland and I at happy hour. Parties. One that someone took of us, probably Penny, on New Year’s.

The rest are random screenshots. The screenshots, though? Those are the ones that hurt. It’s scores from my games. The football schedule. Alexi and I when we won the championship accompanied by one taken of a TV, and Penny is with her. Every time she said she didn’t care there is proof that she did. There are tattoos and events. News articles, and things Ashland found funny.

There are an overwhelming amount of videos. It took me two weeks to comb through it all. Despite how Ashland acts, it appears that she has been an unwilling star of videos Penny takes. Penny is always trying to get the nitty gritty, and Ashland is always being funny or crass; turning everything into a joke. Freshman year looks like it was fun, but there are points where they seem distressed. I cut Cole from the ones that I can because outrightly deleting this would break Ashland. I just know it.

She never photographs her art. Only Penny’s.

I try to get to know her through her camera roll. The parts of her that she didn’t show me. My only saving grace is that there are parts of Ashland I know, that aren’t seen here.

“Still looking through your girlfriend’s stuff?” Tamara, a nurse, sits next to me with her snack.

After a week, they let Alexi and I stay in the lounge. They felt bad for us. We’ve come to know some of the staff in our time here, and Alexi has fully abused the fact that Ash is lying in a bed sewn back together. He said she would want him to, and I couldn’t argue with that logic, because she would.

“Not my girlfriend,” I mumble.

I don’t bother closing the phone. I just keep scrolling and scrolling. I’ve already sent plenty of it to myself, including stuff of her and Penny on adventures. Any picture or video that Ashland seems happy in is now sitting in my phone and some of the sad ones, too. It’s a psychotic thing to do, but I’ve also been camping out this entire time.

“I mean the competition is hot. I won’t lie.” Nurse Tamara has involved herself in me combing through Ashland’s personal life, so she’s seen some of the photos of her with her ex.

“Not helping.”

“Right. Sorry.” She offers me a twinkie, but I don’t take it. “Well, I heard she woke up.”

“Yeah, she did.”

Sinclair came to get Alexi a while ago to visit her. He’s been cordial with me, and I’ve gotten to know him a little bit. He’s fucking crazy and as much of a dick as Ashland. Apple must not fall far from the tree. I can only imagine what their parents are like. He hasn’t spoken about her much the few times he has come in here with Penny. I’ve learned that he’s from England, and that’s about it. Damien may have been her not-husband, but they don’t talk about him. Not once have I heard one word about him since the night everything happened.

“Are you going to see her?” Tamara asks.

I sigh. “Probably not.”

“She can have visitors though,” she points out.

“Usually, people have to want to see the visitors.”

“I won’t kick you out,” she shrugs.

“No offense, but it’s not you I’m worried about. She might be weak and still healing, but she’ll get out of the bed and punch me in the face if she feels like it.”

“Now it makes sense. She’s a spitfire. That’s why you’re in love with her.”

“I never said that.”

She gives me an apologetic look. “You don’t have to.” The door creaks open and Tamara offers a big smile. “How’s she feeling, Penny?”

“Just waking up and everything. Trying to get her bearings.”

“Well, I’m about to be assigned, so I guess I’ll see you two later.” Tamara shoves her twinkie into her mouth and rushes out, brushing her hands on her scrubs.

I close Ashland’s phone and hold it out. Now that Ashland is awake she’ll probably want it back.

“What the hell is this?” Penny asks, staring at it.

“Ashland’s phone.”

Penny waves it away. “I’m not a delivery service.” She crosses her arms and leans back on the couch, her eyes fluttering shut momentarily before she takes a deep breath and forces them open. “She’s awake.”

“I heard. How is she?”

She sticks her tongue in her cheek. “Asking for you.”

I’m immediately awake despite my exhaustion. “She is?”

“No,” she giggles. “When I told her you were here she requested that I tell you to fuck yourself.”

I settle back into the couch. “Right.”

“But, in Ashland, that means she wants to see you.”

“I doubt that.”

She raises an eyebrow. “I consider myself an expert in the language of Ashland. Are you doubting me?”

“The last thing she said to me wasn’t…She made it clear she doesn’t want to see me again.”

“What was it?”

I don’t really want to tell her. If anyone knows all of our shit, it will be Penny.

“I love you."

She laughs. “Listen, Koda. I’ve witnessed plenty of fights with Ashland, much worse than that, unfortunately. That’s pretty bad, but there is worse.”

I bite my lip in indecision.

“If you’ve been through her phone, then you have some idea of our life. The pictures don’t do it justice. There was turmoil. She likes to push people until they leave, but you keep coming back. You’re like a boulder.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“You think before you speak,” she says candidly. “You’re consistent. She kicks and screams, but you don’t move. She told you her safe words, and you’re still here. You know how to take her shit and dish it back. People get angry sometimes, especially Ash, but that’s not a forever feeling. She’s passionate, and I think you are, too.”

Out of all of the things I thought Penny would say to me, it wasn’t any of this.

“You love her,” she continues. “You’ve got to show her and keep showing her. She’s been through a lot. She doesn’t know up from down most times, but her mind is a beautiful and wild place if you let her show you. You can try to smash that feeling she gives you down, but it’ll never go away. Trust me. I’ve got receipts.”

“What do I say?”

“Something to piss her off I’d imagine. She’s in the hospital, and she’s terrified. The last time she was in one was the worst night of her life, and she had to do it alone,” she says sadly.

“This wasn’t the worst night of her life?”

“No.” She doesn’t offer an explanation.

“Ashland isn’t going to let me just walk back into her life,” I reason.

“Seems like you’re trying to, but I’m not going to let you use her like a revolving door. Maybe I’m wrong about you, but I don’t think that I am.”

I’ve always valued football, but after Ashland, my thoughts became seventy-five percent about her and twenty-five percent about my career. I make my decision. “You’re sure she wants to see me?”

“Room one hundred and fifty-four." She stands. “I’m going to take Sinclair to the hotel and shower.”

“You’re not going to stay?”

“She doesn’t need me right now. Plus, she’s got the biggest asshole I’ve ever met watching her. I think it’ll be fine.”

And she’s goddamn right. She does. She starts to leave, pausing in the doorway. “She wants pudding.”

I take a moment to thank whatever entity made this possible. They kept Ashland alive. Instead of someone taking pictures of a homicide, she’s laying in a room royally pissed off. I prefer her that way. I may have taken Ashland’s death from her, but I’ll give her everything I have in return.

My hand turns the handle, and I step into a dark room with a lamp on in the corner. Monitors are beeping with a steady heart rate.

“Fucking hell. How long does it take to lift a pudding cup from the fucking cafeteria? I could have robbed a bank in less time,” Ashland growls.

Her teal eyes look up at me, and they widen with surprise before she narrows them in anger. “I told her to tell you to fuck yourself.”

I lean in the doorway. “She delivered the message.”

“Then why are you still standing here?” she bites.

I shrug. “I wanted to hear you say it yourself.” Fuck . It’s music to my fucking ears.

“Go fuck yourself. Now get out.”

“You said something about pudding?”

She crosses her arms. “That doesn’t concern you."

“Ya know, I could go get it for you,” I offer, nonchalant.

"Penny isn’t coming back is she?”

“She’s going back to a hotel with Sinclair. Hopefully to get some sleep.”

“Of course she is. She needs it.” She sighs with annoyance. “You can go. I’ll be fine.”

“What kind of pudding do you like?”

She scrunches up her face, trying to decide if she’s gonna tell me.

“Fuck it.” I stretch. “I’ll get them all. Anything else?”

She lets out a frustrated growl. “A Dr. Pepper.”

“Roger that.” I leave the room and run straight into Tamara.

“Did she kick you out?” she whispers, looking up at me.

“Working on it.”

“I just got assigned to her room." She glances at the door.

“Want to meet her?”

“Duh, you’ve been pining for her for weeks. This is like a real life soap opera.”

I chuckle, cracking open the door. “Ash?”

“Do you have pudding?” she says from inside.

“Not yet.”

“Then fuck you,” she responds. I shut the door and give Tamara a pointed look as something thuds against it.

“Oh you’ve got your hands full,” she giggles.

I can't help but smile. “It only gets worse."

“At least she didn’t punch you. Pudding is a good start. She needs to eat something.” She goes into full nurse mode. “And water. Try to get her to drink some. I’ll be by in a little bit to give her meds.”

“Got it.”

She hurries down the hallway back to the desk. I already hear her whispering the gossip. Koda Armory is finally visiting the girl he’s been sleeping on the couch for. I smile to myself as I head for the cafeteria. After grabbing her pudding cups, which hardly took any convincing, I stop at the vending machine to buy her a Dr. Pepper and three waters. No way she is going to be drinking the sink water I’m sure they’ll try to give her.

When I return, she’s got her eyes closed. She looks like an angel when she sleeps. The opposite of when she’s awake.

“Ash,” I say gently, smoothing the hair out of her face.

“Hm?” Her eyes flutter open. “Ko?”

It feels better than I thought it would to hear her call me that again.

“Got what you asked for.” I spill the contents I have bundled in my shirt across the tray and slide it over her.

She yawns, taking stock. Her eyes widen. “Holy shit.”

“I wanted to try them, too,” I explain with a grin. “Oh, and here.” I place the Dr. Pepper and waters on her tray.

She stares at me like I’m an alien. “What the fuck?”

I shrug. “You wanted it.”

She looks back at the pudding and picks one up at random, examining the label. “Tapioca.”

“Sounds like a good place to start.” I scoot into the bed, making sure not to knock the medical equipment. Having her this close is intoxicating. She finally smells like herself.

“What the hell? You’re way too big,” she squirms.

“Then make room,” I tease her, tearing off the top and dipping a spoon in. She doesn’t move, but she doesn’t shove me away either. Ashland just watches me. “I’m not suffering through some of these alone.” I peel off the lid to the Tapioca and slide it over. She still doesn’t move. “What’s the problem?”

“Why are you here?”

“Because a funeral would have been pretty fucking embarrassing for you.”

She glares at me. “It would have been preferable."

“I think Penny and Sinclair would disagree,” I say with my mouth full. Ashland deflates at the comment.

“How is she?”

“Glad she didn’t find your body in the kitchen.”

“If she didn’t find me then who did?” She loses herself in thought.

“Me,” I shrug.

“You?” She shoves the pudding away and does her best to scoot to face me. “Why you?”

“You’re ruining my pudding,” I sigh.

“Fuck the pudding, Ko.”

“Drink some water then.” I unscrew the cap and try handing it to her.

“No." She tries to swat my hand away.

“Drink, and I’ll tell you.” She growls in frustration, but does as I ask then looks at me expectantly. I fix her with a look. “More."

She chugs a third of the bottle, wincing. “Okay. Speak, Golden Boy.”

“I should've never left that day.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I shouldn’t have. I should have stayed and listened.”

She freezes. “It was never going to work. We’re too different.”

“No, we’re not. I was being a dick.”

She glances at me. “Whatever. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“I know it wasn’t true, Ash. I know Damien is a psycho.”

She clenches a hand around the pudding cup and stares into it as if it’s going to tell her the secrets of the Universe.

“Oh. Well." She clears her throat. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

“I know,” I say slowly. “But if I had just stopped being an asshole for five seconds none of this would have happened.”

“It’s not your fault Cole attacked me. I relieve you of that karma,” she snorts.

“I don’t think it’s my fault.”

“Then why are you here if this isn’t some guilty conscience thing? Don’t you have practice or something?”

“Fuck practice. I don’t want to be anywhere else,” I finally say.

“But you guys are undefeated,” she argues.

The corners of my mouth turn up, and I give her a questioning look. “I thought you hated football and actively avoided knowing anything about it because you said ‘it’s a pointless sport that murders brain cells, and is filled with a bunch of narcissistic assholes who are measuring dicks and using aggression as a form of therapy’?”

She blushes. “You remember that?”

“I remember everything you say, Ash, despite what you think.”

She doesn’t know what to say. “Hand me the Tapioca.”

I do it happily. It’s true. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Eating pudding in a hospital bed is exactly what I want.

“You’re a decent quarterback,” she says out of nowhere. “They say you’re gonna get drafted into the NFL.”

“Checking up on me?” I smirk.

“I’m trying to compliment you, Armory. Say thank you, and shut the fuck up.”

“Yes ma’am,” I chuckle. “Thank you. Shut the fuck up.”

“I can’t fucking stand you,” she mumbles, putting the spoon to her lips. She makes a face and puts the cup down. “Nope. Not the one.”

I stick my hand out. “Hand it over.”

“You like this shit?” she asks incredulously.

“I basically haven’t eaten in three weeks. I’ll eat anything at this point.” I take it from her. “What about this one?” I peel off another lid and hand it to her.

“I can do it myself, ya know." She takes one bite and shakes her head. “Nope. No. What the fuck is this, Armory? Are you trying to kill me?”

I frown. “Pistachio isn’t that bad.”

“You’re a monster.”

“You need to eat something. What about butterscotch?”

“Butterscotch. I like butterscotch,” she says, taking it from me.

Tamara pops her head in. “Are we awake?” she asks with a sweet smile, and curiosity burning in her eyes. I guess she hasn’t seen Ashland in person before.

“Yup,” I respond.

She comes into the room with a cup of pills. “I’m Nurse Tamara. I’ll be your go-to tonight. I’ve got your late night pills right here, Ms. Bradshaw.”

“Ugh,” Ashland balks. “Don’t need ‘em. Please fucking call me Ashland. Ms. Bradshaw makes me sound like I’m forty.”

Tamara ignores her, sets them amongst the pudding, and stands there expectantly. Ashland glares at her. “What are you waiting for?”

“I have to watch you take them, sweetheart.”

“Don’t fucking call me that.”

“Alright,” she says nervously, glancing at me with worry. “Just take them and I can go, Ashland.”

“Nah, too late for that. Your Ashland right has been revoked.”

“Uh, Koda?” Tamara looks at me for help.

“You’re scaring her, baby girl,” I inform Ash. “Tamara is nice. I’ve seen her in the nurse’s lounge.”

She doesn’t yell at me for calling her baby girl. That’s a win.

“Oh, so you’re friends?” I see the calculating gaze, and I already know trouble is brewing. “I didn’t realize you were on a first name basis. In that case, you can address me as cunt or slut. Take your pick.” Ashland just woke up from weeks in a coma, and she’s brimming with mischief.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary,” she responds with gritted teeth.

“Go on.” Ashland sucks the spoon clean and it takes every bit of my willpower to keep myself from getting me hard. “Pick one.”

“You should choose cunt,” I warn her.

“I don’t think…” Nurse Tamara sputters. She looks between us, and I see defeat on her face. “Take the pills, cunt.” She covers her mouth like she can’t believe she just said that to a patient.

“That’s gotta feel good,” Ashland snorts. “Dr. Pepper me.” She holds her hand out, and I open it up as Tamara watches in horror.

I’m sure soda is far off the fucking list, but she needs to just be grateful Ashland is taking them at all. She picks up the cup, dumping it into her good hand. She tosses them back, chasing them with the Dr. Pepper, then opens her mouth, forcing Tamara to look.

“You weren’t kidding,” Tamara says to me.

“He couldn’t tell a good joke if he tried,” Ashland laughs, then winces. “Not enough brain cells. They all focus on breathing.”

“Nah, I lost those a few weeks ago,” I retort.

“Figures.”

“I’ll be back in a little bit. Just let me know if she needs anything.” Tamara backs out of the room and scurries away, shutting the door quickly behind her.

“I can’t believe she said it. She’s gonna tell everyone my girlfriend is fucking crazy.”

Ashland chokes on the butterscotch. When she finally recovers she glares at me. “That’s not funny.”

“It’s the truth.”

We’re at a standoff. I can see that she’s trying not to take me too seriously, and that she’s upset. “If I wasn’t on my death bed I would fucking kill you.”

“Can’t wait,” I grin.

“I don’t understand you.” She tries to shove me out of the bed, but I’m a brick wall.

“I don’t understand you either.”

She gives up. “I’m so fucking confused.”

I shove everything aside and look directly at her. I want her to know I’m serious, and that I mean every word I’m about to say.

“I watched you die. You were in my arms. Three minutes, they said. That’s how long you were gone. I never realized how long three minutes is. Each second felt like an eternity. I’ve never felt so desperate in my entire fucking life. I’m an idiot. Hand on the fucking Bible, I’m a complete and total idiot.”

She blinks at me. “Is that it?”

“No. I had a lot of time to think over the last three weeks.”

“Surprised you could,” she mumbles.

“That’s the thing. It should piss me off when you say shit like that, but it never does. I thought I might never hear it again. That thought alone is devastating. The last few weeks without you have been the worst weeks of my life. I’m pretty sure Alexi is tired of me wallowing. Actually, I know he is. He’s only said it a million times. I’m in love with you, baby girl, and I should have said it that day in your house.” I take a deep breath.

“I care about you. So, when they said you wouldn’t live, I begged them to make it happen. When everyone told me to go home, I wouldn’t. You told me to take care of Penny, and I will for the rest of my life. I’ll make anything happen for you. You hate my fucking car? I’ll buy a new one. Want to see the pyramids? You’ll be fucking Cleopatra. If you hate my face, I’ll fucking change it. Just…Just let me take care of you. Let me love you.”

There’s a silence that echoes throughout time and space. Finally, Ashland clears her throat. “Hand me that one.”

And I do. I peel the lid back, and she doesn’t complain. She dips her spoon in and inspects the contents. “Is this chocolate vanilla?”

I look at the label on the other one. “It is.”

When she runs the spoon over her tongue her eyes roll back into her head. “This is the one.”

“Yeah? That’s the one?”

“Mmhm. This is the one.” She smiles, and it’s so goddamn infectious.

“So, you have a little brother,” I huff.

“Sinclair,” she muses. “The definition of mischief. I remember when he was little. Feels like it was yesterday that he had chubby cheeks and wouldn’t stop fucking following me around.”

“Why’d you never talk about him?”

“Seemed irrelevant. You didn’t ask if I had siblings.”

I chance the question. “Are you from England?”

“Born here. Between foster care and…other stuff, we ended up in different parts of the world.”

“I was in foster care,” I admit.

She smirks. “Makes sense on why you’re such a control freak.”

I stretch back on the small bed. “You really didn’t know?”

“I know you’re adopted, but I figured it was when you were a baby.”

“I had a short stint in foster care when I was eight. When I got placed with my mom and dad, they did everything in their power to keep me.”

“Sounds nice. My favorite part was the trash bag,” she laughs. “It’s so fucking sad, but I’d never really had stuff before that. Every time they tried to take Sinclair away from me I bit anyone who got near us.”

“Not much has changed,” I tease.

“Nope,” she mumbles. “Didn’t take long for them to send us back. They always send me back.”

It opens my eyes a little bit. Ash has been rejected in ways that I’m not aware of for her entire life, and she’s waiting for me to do it, too. I did already. I wish I could comfort her and tell her everything will always be okay. It won’t, and she isn’t stupid enough to believe it. She’s lying in a hospital bed right now, and that just proves it.

I love her. I meant what I said, and I’ll always take care of her. It doesn’t mean things will be perfect. It doesn’t guarantee things will work out either. The moment Ashland is free she could run, and I won’t blame her. She could still disappear. I’ve been living day by day, but I’m going to do what I do best and make a fucking plan, even if it’s hopeful.

In three months, Ashland will be out of this hospital. I’ll be fucking sure of it. In four, summer will be over. I don’t know if Ashland wants to go back to school, and it’s not something I can ask right now. It’s our senior year and my final season, which makes things fucking complicated. Just one more season, and then I can worry about details for the future. In eight months, we’ll almost be done. I’ll be making hard decisions, but I don’t want to make them without her. I meant what I said. I love her. She’s in my life plan, and it wasn’t a bluff. I don’t need her to love me back. I just need to love her.