My Next Play by Carrie Ann Ryan

Chapter 17

Nessa

I smiledup at the sky as I lifted my face to the sun, closing my eyes. It felt so good to breathe, to be out in the outside world and know what the weather was without having to look it up on my phone. I had been sequestered in my room on campus and at work for what seemed like forever, trying to get caught up. I was working as many hours as Everly could provide to me, and I still wasn’t sure it would be enough to pay whatever my loans and stipends and scholarships didn’t cover for the rest of the following semester. I didn’t want to take Dad’s money when I knew he needed it more.

Tuition would be calling any day now, and as I looked at the mail in my hand, I knew it was coming up quickly. My final installment was due; I saw the red words on the envelope in my hand. And I knew that if I weren’t careful, they wouldn’t let me back. This last semester might be for nothing because I still had one little payment left that wasn’t so tiny. I’d kept telling myself that I would be fine for a few more months, but now those months had run out. Being on a payment plan meant I needed to plan, and though I had, it still didn’t seem to be enough.

I groaned, annoyed with myself for ruining this slice of warmth I had let myself have. We were nearing winter, fall having come and gone out of nowhere. And Colorado winters meant four seasons per day sometimes, and below-freezing wasn’t out of bounds.

Still, right now, it was warm on my face, and I needed to remember that and soak it in. There was light in the darkness, a way out of the cold.

I let out a breath and went through the rest of the mail, organizing it by person and household issues. I stepped inside, set my keys on the entryway table, and put each set of mail into piles. The final piece had me frowning as I picked up the letter postmarked for the city, with Miles’ name in the corner. I frowned and opened it, a smile slowly sliding onto my face.

Thinking of you. Just wanted you to know I believe in you.

I grinned and set the note down on the table. I couldn’t believe he’d wasted a stamp on that, but it made me smile, so maybe it wasn’t a waste, after all. I shook my head, clutched the letter to my chest, and went back to my room, setting it down with my other things. I also had the bill in my hand and tried not to think about that too hard. I had to open it.

I swallowed hard, wondering if it was too early to have a drink, and opened up the letter. I nearly dropped it, my hands shaking.

I knew how much I owed, but there were fees and taxes there that hadn’t been before. Or maybe I had missed them. I didn’t know. But, dear God, with the added medical insurance that came with school, I wasn’t sure I would be able to afford to do anything. And I needed medical insurance. I had medicine that I took daily. I had asthma and needed my inhaler. Yet I couldn’t breathe just then.

I wouldn’t be able to afford next semester. There was no way unless Dad sold the house immediately or I won the lottery.

I couldn’t afford this final payment. And if I didn’t ask my dad, who I knew wouldn’t be able to help, not with Mom’s medical bills chomping at his heels, I would have to drop out.

I couldn’t pay for my last semester, and I wouldn’t be able to pay for even this final bill.

Tears formed at the backs of my eyes, and I swallowed hard, my hands shaking.

The doorbell rang, and I frowned, wondering who it could be. I picked up Miles’ letter along with the bill, needing something to negate the negativity. Sadly, I wasn’t sure even that would work.

I opened the door, and Miles stood there. All I wanted to do was lean on him, hold onto him and have him tell me that everything would be okay.

That was a mistake, though, and I couldn’t let that happen. I needed to be strong without relying on him. He would be gone soon, and the more I relied on him, the worse it would hurt—just like with Pacey. I might not have loved him like I thought I had, but I had relied on him as emotional support. Something that had slapped back at me when I realized I had been mistaken about my feelings.

It had hurt when I had to walk away, realizing that I had made a mistake.

This would hurt far more.

“What’s wrong?” Miles asked as he walked into the house.

He cupped my face, and I wanted to lean into his touch. Instead, I pulled away and saw the hurt in his expression, but I had to ignore it.

I couldn’t let myself get hurt again. And I couldn’t hurt him by delaying the inevitable.

“I’m fine.” I looked down at the note, my heart breaking even as my voice shook. “Thank you for the letter.”

He gave me an odd look. “Letter?”

Foreboding slid up my spine, and I looked at him, meeting his gaze. His eyes broke me, the way they saw too much. Yet I couldn’t let him see any more. “The one you wrote me. It was like the text you sent.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Nessa.”

I looked at him then and held out the letter. He didn’t grab it. Instead, he read it as I held it. He cursed, a scowl etching his face.

“We’re calling that detective.”

“What?” I asked, licking my suddenly dry lips. “What do you mean? This isn’t from you?” I already assumed that, of course, but I needed to hear the words. I needed him to tell me this was a mistake. I couldn’t take any more than I’d already been given.

“Nessa, I’ve never given you flowers. I should have, but every time I thought about it, it creeped me out and made me think of Xander. And that letter? I didn’t write it. It’s not my handwriting.”

“It isn’t?” I looked down at it, and then it dawned on me. It wasn’t. These lines were slanted just a little differently. I had seen his handwriting numerous times as we went over homework, and yet I hadn’t noticed. I had been wrong.

“I shouldn’t have held this. Don’t they need it for evidence or something? Oh my God, why is he doing this, Miles?”

He scowled and walked to the kitchen, leaving me behind as I stood there, my heart racing. I swallowed hard. “Miles,” I said.

“I’m getting a plastic bag, and we’re going to call the cops.”

“My fingerprints are all over it. And I don’t know if those cop shows are actually right. I know nothing about forensic evidence.”

“Neither do I, but this will be as good as it gets.” He held out the bag, and I slid the envelope and letter into it, my hands shaking.

“Why is this happening?”

“I don’t know, but we’re going to call the detective.”

“Okay, I can do that.”

“We can do that.”

Again, it reminded me that I needed to stop this. I had to do this on my own. I couldn’t focus on every detail and remain composed. Which meant, I had to do something that would hurt, even if this might not be the right time. Hell, maybe this was the best time.

“I will. I’ll call him. I’ll figure it out. But first, I need to say a few things.” Why did my voice sound so cool? Why did it feel as if I’d already fallen and there was no hope for survival?

“No, first, you’re going to call the detective.”

“I just…I need you to listen to me,” I said, trying to push all thoughts of everything else in my life out of the way.

Those hurt, and if I focused on them, I wouldn’t make it. I would sit down and curl into a ball, and I wouldn’t fight back. And that was not the Nessa I thought I was. I thought I was a person who could fight back and take care of herself. I pushed my friends to fight for themselves, yet here I was, relying on everybody else and wanting to run away from my problems. I wasn’t going to do that. I would handle this now before Miles got hurt any more. Before I lost everything. Before he lost everything.

Then I would deal with the reality of my situation and burst the fantasy bubble of whatever this was and could be.

“I don’t think I can do this,” I said quickly.

He looked at me then, confusion on his face. “I’ll call the detective. You don’t have to worry. I’m here for you, Nessa.”

Shattered. Broken. There would be nothing left after this. “No, not that. I will handle that. I will handle it all, just like I always have.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Nessa?” he asked, his voice slightly growly.

“I don’t think I can do this, Miles.” I gestured between us. “This is too fast and too much. I know I’m going to be a horrible person, and everyone’s going to hate me for this, but you’re leaving anyway. And I don’t even know if I can stay for the whole year. Even though we thought I could, I’m not sure I can. And I can’t talk about it right now, but this is just too much. You’re going to leave anyway, Miles. I don’t want either of us getting hurt more than we already are. So, you should go. I’ll handle this. I promise.”

I wasn’t even sure what I was saying at that point. I needed Miles gone. If he stayed, I’d break beyond redemption.

I couldn’t let myself fall deeper or shatter into a thousand pieces when he left me. I had to be the one to let him go.

He blinked at me, the bewilderment in his eyes a tear across my heart. “What the hell, Nessa? No, this isn’t how you react to this. We’re going to handle it together.”

“There is no us and together, Miles.” And as soon as I said the words, I knew if I didn’t push him away, he would stay. That was the guy Miles was. He was someone who would always remain. Who would be there because he hadn’t been able to be there for the one person who mattered the most. He would always take care of everyone else.

I couldn’t let him drain himself of everything he had left to protect me, when he’d leave us both broken in the end.

“You need to go. Just let me handle this. We can go back to being friends. Or you can never speak to me again because I’m such a bitch. But you can’t stay. I can’t do this right now with you. Don’t you understand that? I need you to go.”

“Nessa,” he whispered.

Tears threatened, but I pushed them back. It was the only way. “Please. I can’t do this. I can’t deal with school and you and whatever the hell Xander wants. So leave. I’ll lock the doors. I’ll call the detective. I’ll even call the girls. I don’t know. You can’t be here.”

“Meaning you can rely on everyone but me.” His voice was ice, and I hated myself, but I would hurt him more if he stayed. I knew that. It was what I did. He needed to leave.

I needed him to go.

“Please, Miles.”

“I’m calling the girls,” he said, his voice hollow. “We’re going to talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Miles,” I lied. I was such a liar. “I can’t think with you around.”

He looked like I’d hit him, his whole body jerking at the blow. I hated myself.

“Okay, then. If that’s what you want. I always told you it was your call. Always. I’m still calling the girls. Lock the door. Call the fucking detective. Xander’s out there somewhere. He’s fucking stalking you. And you know what? I’m going to give you some time, but this isn’t over. You and me? We have a lot to talk about, and I know this is probably too much for you, so I’ll go, I’ll give you that space. But not forever, Nessa. We’re going to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I lied again, and he shook his head and leaned forward.

“There’s everything to talk about. You’re asking me to go, so I will. You asked Xander to go, and he didn’t. That’s the only reason I’m leaving.” And on that parting note, he left. I locked the door behind him, pulling out my phone as I slowly slid to the floor, tears falling down my cheeks.

I needed to call the detective. I needed to reach the bursar. I needed to talk to my father. I needed to do everything except cry, ending up in a puddle as I broke.

With every step Miles took away from me, I regretted it. He was gone. I had pushed him out. He’d said he would come back to fight, but was I worth fighting for?

I was nothing. I was only a burden.

He walked away because I told him to. He hadn’t wanted to push himself on me. That was the type of man Miles was.

That was the type of man I had hurt. The kind I had pushed away.

The type I didn’t want to push away.