Matches | √

Chapter Twenty-Four

"Yeah," I breathe as he leans in and places his lips against mine. He kisses me slowly as if we have all the time in the world. My arms lift to slide up his chest and the idea of time makes me melt in his arms even more.

"What?" A broken whisper echoes in the hallway and breaks us apart. The singular word freezes my blood, stone cold, because it's a voice I would know anywhere.

I pull away from Asher and drop my arms as my heart begins to race in double time. "Fran?" I ask in shock almost as if my eyes can't believe what they are seeing. My mind can't comprehend what is happening. The world begins to tilt off kilter and my focus goes fuzzy at the edges as I take in my best friend just a few feet away.

Standing shell shocked at what she's seeing in front of her.

Her mouth opens and closes as if she can't find the right words for this moment. This betrayal. "What?" she questions again this time louder and clearer. The word slicing through my heart like butter making me bleed before her.

Before I can stop them I blurt out, "It's not what it looks like."

I try to ignore Asher at my side and the slight flinch my words cause him. I try and ignore the way the delicate skin around his dark eyes crinkle and flash with an emotion that can only be described as hurt.

Francesca scoffs at my words. "It's exactly what it looks like," she laughs darkly as her eyes narrow in on me. "My best friend is messing around with my prom date," she states easily as her eyes flicker between her date and myself. She can see the evidence plain as day with my fallen hair, Asher's untucked shirt, my lipstick on his jaw. There's no hiding what transpired between us, no dark room to run back into.

I step forward away from Asher. "Let me explain," I start needing to work this out with my best friend. Needing to stop this train in its tracks but it's no use. It's derailed and we are headed straight into the side of a mountain. Crumbling, crushing, and breaking apart.

"Why?" she inquires with a sneer lining her lips. "I don't need to hear you explain what a slut you are," she spits at me looking at me as if I'm the trash at her feet. Looking at me as if I'm some stranger. And in this moment I am. Because the old Maeleigh would never betray her best friend like this. The old Maeleigh wouldn't even think twice about Asher. But as my eyes lift to meet Asher's I finally realize that he has been dragging me towards hell. He isn't my savior. He's my downfall. But the downfall I can't seem nor want to escape.

Asher steps forward at my best friend's harsh words. "Fran," his strong voice calls out from beside me. Standing up for me. But I don't deserve him swooping in to be my knight and shining armor. I am what she's named me because I am what he's made me.

Her head snaps to him. "Don't get me started on you," she exclaims as she points an angry finger at him. Heated emotion pours out of every part of Francesca, an anger I've never seen from anyone let alone her.

"Please," I beg desperately. My heart might've blackened and become singed at the edges and I may not look at the world the same way. But I still am the girl she once knew. The girl who held her hand when her dog died. The girl who sang cheesy pop songs with her at the top of our lungs. The girl who pushed her to never take no for an answer and to exceed what her piss poor excuse for parents expected out of her.

A tear slides down her cheek leaving a shinny trail of salt. "You two deserve each other honestly," she tells us brokenly. Her words may have been meant for us both but her eyes are locked on me. Eyes staring at me as if I'm unrecognizable to her at this moment.

I step forward once again. "Francesca please," I plead with thick emotion clawing at my throat and hot tears lining my faint eyes.

She lifts her hand in a single movement. "No, I can't even look at you," she admits as her eyes fall to the tiled floor.