chapter 16 | two truths and a lie

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At 10:27 PM, Addie made her last post.

It was a photo of her, her long blonde hair curled and loose against her shoulders, bright blue eyes squinting in the sunlight. Her head was cocked slightly as if the photographer had caught her by surprise, the ghost of a smile edging on her lips. A picture of damaged beauty. The caption simply read 'falling.'

At 10:58 PM, Vanessa commented on her post.

My best friend is so beautiful <3

All of the pictures on Vanessa's account were now gone, as if she had never used it to begin with.

By 9 AM the following Tuesday, the news had spread like wildfire - 

Addilyn Fields was dead.

There were many theories - some were wilder than others. But nobody could have fathomed the real reason she was gone, or maybe it was that nobody wanted to. 

I sighed, scooping my hair into a messy bun and leaning back in my chair. Sometimes, I didn't even know what was real when it came with Addie. It felt like I was chasing after something - someone - that didn't exist anymore.

I could only imagine how it felt for someone like Vanessa. I scrolled through the rest of Addie's pictures, stopping at an old one of her, Vanessa, and Talia. Talia's hair was dyed a darker blonde, and Vanessa's hair was long unlike the choppy bob it was cut into now. The three of them were in sparkly dance uniforms, glitter dusting their rosy cheeks and fluorescent lights creating a soft haze in the background. It was obvious that the photo was taken when they used to be friends and was now long forgotten. 

Since I was already on a picture binge, I couldn't help searching Ellis's account. As expected, there were only three pictures. One was solely of his tattoos and another of him with the boys- Sutton, Conan, and Zach. 

But the one that caught my attention was the photo from when he was younger. His tousled dark hair and bright blue eyes were the only things that were the same- I almost laughed when I saw his broad smile revealing a missing tooth. My smile quickly caught when I saw the beautiful woman behind him, her arms wrapped around his shoulders. She had lighter hair and her features were much softer- Her eyes were the same brilliant blue though.

His mom. For as long as we had known the Hylands, his mother hadn't been in the picture. Ellis never brought her up himself.

I placed my phone on the counter, deciding to call it a night. As I was about to sleep, my phone dinged with a new message request. Nothing could've prepared me for sliding the tab up and seeing the icon that emerged to be Ellis's profile picture.

I considered ignoring it altogether but despite my better judgement, I ended up clicking on it. There was a little audio symbol showing a voice message. When I pressed play, his voice flooded the room immediately.

"You never gave me your number but you did tell me to leave you a voicemail, so here we go. The next closest thing."

I pulled my blankets closer, holding my breath. 

"You were right about some things. You were right to think that there's a lot I don't talk about. There's things I hide, things that I might never share. And you were right about how it's better for you to stay away from me." He laughed then, but it was an empty laugh.

I knew that. In fact, I wanted that.

So why did I feel disappointed?

"But you were wrong when you said I'm a liar. Because I didn't lie when I said I didn't say anything about you and Sutton. I didn't lie to you at all, actually. I'm a fuck-up, but that's one thing I have going for me right?" His voice was slightly raspy with sleep and I could imagine him leaning against his bed shirtless, phone propped in his hand. 

"I know you said you don't know anything about me. So here's one thing. I want my own studio one day. A dance studio- far away from this shit ass town- with free lessons for the kids who don't have anything. No matter how messed up their life is, I'm going to give them a home to come back to."

I could hear his voice holding back emotions; bitterness, anger, resolve. But amidst it all, there was a sense of freedom too. I hadn't realized how important this was to him. I shifted in bed, his next words making me stay still.

"I don't know what Aiden said to you that night Reeves, but I know you were upset and you don't deserve that. Regardless of how you feel about me."

I swallowed. After everything that happened, I had felt guilty, blaming myself. But it wasn't my fault. When the shock had worn off, I realized Aiden had basically called me a slut himself. Friends didn't do that.

"Well, that's my one thing. Or I guess two things, now. Can't say you don't know anything about me anymore, Dakota." This time, I could hear the smile in his voice when he said my name, laced with sleepiness.

I played with the edge of my satin cami pjs, waiting for what he'd say next with bated breath. But nothing came.

The voice note ended then, but the thoughts in my mind were still racing. I quickly moved to my window, nudging the curtains open just slightly. The light in his room was still on, and I could see the shadow of him getting up. In nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants, his taut muscles flexed slightly as he moved to the window.

He leaned against the frame, his tattooed forearms supporting him as he leaned to turn off the light. Before he could, his gaze caught mine. His dark hair looked uncombed and when he saw me, his eyes flashed a stormy blue. They flickered down to the phone in my hand before they were back on me.

"It's your call now if you want to delete the voicemail," He said huskily, lazy half-smile on his lips. A smile like that was a dangerous game, one that I shouldn't be playing. One that shouldn't be pulling me under. "Good night, Reeves."

It was the last thing he said before the lights were off.

I moved back into my bed, grabbing makeup wipes from the counter and trying to remove the leftover lip gloss until my lips were a raw red. Finally I grabbed my phone again, looking at the little trash can below the voice message. My finger hovered over the button.

It's your call now.

At the last second, I saved it instead.

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