“You’re the strong one, Kenz,” said Robbie’s voice.

“You were the superstar in everything,” Willow said. “You just didn’t know.”

“You were what we needed. You were our anchor.”

“You’re wrong.” I looked right at her. “I am good enough; I’m better than you’ll ever be.”

And taking Ryan’s hand again, I left the room. He followed. As did Erin. Cora. Tom. Kirk. Pete. Nick.

I was told later that almost everyone followed us out.

Stephanie Witt never had the same clout after that party.

She still had friends, but she wasn’t popular anymore.

Erin became more of a friend to me, and somehow she almost took Stephanie’s place at school—except for the bullying. I was very adamant that she couldn’t do that, and she agreed.

She still somehow managed to rule with intimidation, though.

Cora and Kirk became exclusive after that party.

Nick and Pete hit on Zoe and Gianna before moving on to hit on other girls. There were no more wrestling matches, that night.

And Tom and Peach kissed, blushed, and held hands whenever they could.

The next day, I met Zoe and Gianna for breakfast before they went home. It still hurt that they hadn’t been there for me in the beginning, but they’d been a part of my life for so long, and they loved Willow too. Plus, I was trying to be someone Willow would have been proud of. Yes, she’d told me so many times that she was proud of me, but I didn’t fully believe her. I was still trying. And that meant meeting Duke and Serena too.

It was harder to talk to them than it was to talk to Zoe and Gianna. They knew Willow in ways I hadn’t: as her friend, as her cheerleading accomplice and confidante, as her lover. And seeing them unable to hold back tears unleashed mine as well.

It was an awkward feeling to sit in that booth, first with Zoe and Gianna, and then with Duke and Serena as we all cried. But we were all mourning Willow, and for that I was grateful.

I was surrounded by people who loved her too. This was how it should’ve been from the beginning.

After that they all went back to Arizona, but I did talk to Zoe and Gianna more regularly.

And as for me and Ryan, well . . .

Five months later

Two hundred fifty-three pieces later

With his mouth fused to mine, Ryan pushed me back against the shower wall. Our hands clasped together, and he pinned them above my head before bending to my shoulder and scraping his teeth against my skin.

I gasped as he plunged into me.

He took my weight, and his left hand let go of mine to drop to my thigh. He gripped me there as he sank even deeper inside me.

God.

This guy.

Pleasure built and built low in my belly, and I used my free hand to hold on to him, sinking my fingers into his hair.

The shower beat down on us, but Ryan shielded me, taking most of the water. A slight mist coated my face, and as I drew in oxygen, I drank in some water too.

We had been together for almost a year. In forty-three days, it’d be the anniversary of Willow’s death—the same day I’d first crawled into Ryan’s bed. I’d gone through hell this last year, but he’d been with me the whole time.

I trailed my fingers down his back, feeling his muscles shifting as he thrust in and out, keeping a steady rhythm.

He bent forward, dropping his lips to my nipple and sucking.

I closed my eyes, feeling desire and the momentum building in me. I wanted him. I wanted him harder, deeper, and in the whole year, that hadn’t lessened. If anything, I craved him more and more. Like tonight—we were going to prom later, but I’d stepped into the shower, knowing I had to feel him before we endured a night of mere touches and the whisper of being together.

All eyes would be on us.

All eyes would be on him. He’d be voted prom king, which was no shock to anyone. There was a prom queen, and there were rumors it would be me, but I doubted that. I’d only moved there a year ago. It didn’t seem right, even though I was Ryan’s girlfriend. I wasn’t the most liked girl in the grade. But knowing everyone would be watching Ryan made me almost desperate to feel him first. I wanted to remind myself that he was mine, only mine. I wanted to feel him moving inside me, and I wanted to see him watching me the way he did when he took me at night.

I looked up to find him watching me once again.

His eyes were dark, heavy, primal.

Adjusting our bodies, he lifted me higher against the shower wall and began going harder. He was claiming me.

Pulling my hand free from his, I wrapped my arms around his neck, bending forward to kiss his throat.