Divide

Table of Contents

Title Page

Divide

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Epilogue

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For Holland Brunner:

May you never stop believing in fairytales.

Or love.

Definitely never stop believing in love.

Chapter One

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Holland

The girl looking back at me didn’t seem half as broken as I felt. She was beautiful, confident, sure of herself. A mask I’d worn for years out of habit and, more recently, necessity.

With a sigh, I slammed my locker door a bit harder than I meant to, shutting the magnetic mirror away for at least another hour. At least until I returned for more books between my next two classes and found myself staring at that pretty face again.

So unlike what lurked just under the surface.

It moved around beneath my skin, waiting, calculating—counting down the days.

Holl! Wait up!

Merde!

I turned around to see my little brother heading toward me. The broad smile on his face pushed away my dark thoughts. With only eleven months between us, Cameron was busy enjoying the hell out of his junior year as I trudged through my senior. Although, this time last year I’d felt differently. So much changed in a few short months.

You cussed in French again, sis. People are going to think you’re a freak.

I raised an eyebrow at my brother. Seriously?

As if saying a bad word in French would cause people to think I was a freak any more than all the rumors flying around about me.

Cam waved off my question with a flick of his wrist. You ditching at lunch today? he asked, pulling on his black and gold letterman’s jacket.

"No, Cam. That was just one time. Mom and Dad will kill me if I lead you down the path of destruction." I over-emphasized the words the way our dad had so frequently.

Cam laughed and threw his arm around my shoulder, giving me a light noogie with his free hand. If they only knew, huh, Holl?

He leaned down and kissed the side of my head before he headed off to meet his water polo buddies. He may have been younger than me, but he’d already outgrown me by about six inches or so.

I headed to Physics, dreading what I’d find when I got there. The same thing I faced every day. I took a deep breath, straightened my back, and jutted out my chin. Walk in like you own the place. I repeated my mom’s advice for the millionth time as I entered room thirty-two and faced him.

As if it wasn’t enough that Rod had broken up with me two days before homecoming this past October—leaving me both broken-hearted and painfully dateless—I had to see him and Leslie draped all over each other every day in not just one, but two of my classes.

Just get through the year.

As I did every day, I walked past them without making eye contact and sat down at my desk. I pulled out my notebook, flipped it open and started my daily doodling. Somehow, I could excel at Physics with my eyes closed and a somewhat shoddy attendance record. 

By the end of the period, Leslie had only glanced back at me four times. A new record. If this continued, then maybe she’d only look back at me once by the time Spring Break arrived, and no times at all by the time the school year ended.

Then I’d be out of Crappo Valley for good and could move on with my life. Maybe I should have switched schools like my parents had suggested. It sounded appealing, but it wasn’t like my fame would stay safely inside the walls of Capistrano Valley High School.

No, my fame would follow me. I had no doubt about that.

I waited for everyone to leave the class, then slowly headed for the door.

Hollie? Can I talk to you for a minute?

I closed my eyes, unable to believe it. She waited for me outside the classroom again. I don’t know why that surprised me, just that every day I hoped she’d change her routine. We’d gone over it a thousand times. Her pleas and my responses never changed. Would she ever stop?

Hollie, please look at me.

I slowly opened my eyes and repeated my mantra in my head. Like you own the place.

I faced Leslie and waited. She was neatly put together, as usual: dressed in a mint cashmere sweater, paired with a slightly-darker mint pleather skater skirt. I didn’t have to look down to know her toenails were impeccably painted in a contrasting yet complimentary pastel shade. Leslie’s blazing red-orange hair was pulled back into a perfect ponytail, with not even a single strand out of place. Though some would wonder how she created such a sleek hairdo, I knew her secret—Tres Flores hair pomade with massive amounts of Aqua Net. She’d die if anyone knew she used those products.

She’d also die if anyone lit a match within a five mile radius of her hair. 

She licked her lips in preparation to speak the same tired words she’d spoken a million times. I fought the temptation to recite her speech for her, but she’d cried last time I did that, so I refrained. One of us had to be the bigger person. Or something like that.

Plus, her eyes already glistened the warning of yet-unshed tears. Ugh. I hated this.

I miss you.

I felt my jaw tighten at her words. Fact was that I missed her, too. And I missed Rod. And I missed my childhood spent with the two of them. My two best friends.

We didn’t mean for this to happen. Please believe me. What can I do to fix this?

Right on schedule, a tear slipped past the gate, sliding down her pale, freckled cheek. I watched the watery descent and began the same retort I’d repeated a million times.

Look, Leslie. Just stop, okay? Do us both a favor and move on. You and Rod are in love. I get it. You didn’t mean to hurt me. Fine. But you did. And you can’t fix that kind of betrayal.

I turned and walked away, not wanting to hear any more apologies. How many would I have to hear? I thought I’d paid my dues and suffered enough. After all, I wasn’t the one who went behind her back with her boyfriend of four years.

I’d lost the two most important people in my life and she was the one crying? Ha.

I made it to the bathroom before my tears fell. I hadn’t let them really see how they’d broken me yet, and after four months, I sure as hell wasn’t going to start now. After checking to see that the room was empty, I huddled in the handicap stall and cried as quietly as I could, surrounded by graffiti-damaged gray walls, perfectly fitting for my mood.

When the bell rang a few minutes later, signaling I was late for my next class, I pulled out my compact and looked at my face. Puffy eyes. Fantastic. The red nose I could blame on the cold February winds, but the puffiness was a dead giveaway.

I focused on my blue eyes for a moment; sure I could see it if I only stared long enough.

I know you’re in there.

My eyes had started to change, the blue of my irises slowly seeping away. Only slightly, but enough that I could see the transformation. They were dull, grayer in color than they used to be. Surely, if anyone noticed, they’d probably just attribute the change to my depression.

I knew differently. Something wrong lived inside me, something that wasn’t fully me. Something foreign. Though, what it was, I had no idea.

The main bathroom door opened with a swoosh, followed by the loud thumping of heavy footsteps. I heard each stall door open with the bang of a fist against the metal door, and a swoosh-clank as each door flew inward and slammed against the toilet paper dispenser. One by one, the doors opened as the person made their way to me.

Bang

Swoosh

Clank

Repeat

When the cacophony stopped, black boots—with flat soles that had to have been a good five inches tall—parked right outside my stall. Squatting, with both feet up on the lid of the toilet seat, whoever stood there couldn’t see me. But the previous nine stall doors slamming open were plenty indication of what to expect next.

I climbed off the toilet lid and stood, unwilling to be caught off guard, even though I absolutely already was. I waited.

She cleared her throat.

Screw this. I wiped my tears from my cheeks. Like you own the place, I reminded myself. I opened the door and took a step back so I could see this psycho chick, whoever she was.

Hey, Holland, right? I’m Rosemarie Stevenson. I’m new here.

Her feminine name and sweet-sounding voice were in stark contrast from her strange clothing and door-punching habits. And her boots had more buckles than a straitjacket.

I almost laughed when I noticed that her face wasn’t nearly as scary as I’d assumed it would be. My gaze travelled down, from her tutu-corset thing-a-ma-jig, to her ripped purple and black tights, down to her crazy-ass boots. Then I brought my focus back to her face, and my head tilted slightly on its own accord. She was actually really pretty.

For a crazy chick in a Halloween costume.

The purple glitter eye shadow made her irises seem almost violet in color, and her jet black hair was cropped short and somewhat jagged. All she lacked were some sparkly fairy wings.

I peered over her shoulder, just to make sure wings weren’t fluttering behind her.

Her arm was still outstretched in front of me. I glanced at her black-tipped fingernails and ignored her awaiting hand, instead deciding to ask the pressing question.

If you’re new here, how do you know my name?

"Oh, please. You’re Holland Briggs. Aren’t you, like, famous around here?"

Yeah, well, if you’re wondering if I burned a house down with my ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend inside, you can wonder no longer. I just had last period with both of them, and they’re as fine as ever.

I pushed past her, irritated that she was new here and already knew the rumors that I’d hoped to one day live down. How people could think I tried to kill Rod and Leslie even after they both returned to school and hung out with these idiots every day, I had no idea. Add to that Leslie’s daily pleading fests, and it was any wonder how people could still blame me, when she clearly did not.

Wait! Holland! I’m sorry. We got off on the wrong foot. Can we start over?

I spun on my heels and faced the new girl.

Okay, Rosemarie, was it? I appreciate that you’re new here, and by looking at you I can see that you wanted to align yourself with the biggest freak in school, but I tend to keep to myself and don’t need any crazy-ass fangirls, okay?

Her mouth fell open, but I didn’t care. She’d get over it.

I slipped out the door and back into the hallway, heading not for the cafeteria, but instead for the senior parking lot. Turned out I was ditching for lunch at Harbor House after all.

When I got to the car, Cam waited for me, his infectious smile already making me feel better.

I knew you’d change your mind.

I shook my head and slid into the driver’s seat of my red VW Cabriolet. Cam climbed in on the other side and tried to roll down his window, even though he knew from trying every single day before this one that it was a lost cause.

Sure glad it’s cold out today because I can’t seem to get my window to roll down, he said. I don’t know why you insist on driving this car. You know Mom and Dad will get you whatever you want. Maybe even something from this century. 

I love this car. It was Mr. Greenburg’s, and he trusts me to take care of it. Plus—I waved my hand around the old interior—character.

Cam scoffed.

If you hate Penny so much, why do you insist on driving to school with me?

As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted them. We both knew why Cam hardly ever left my side, and I hated bringing it up. I was past it, but no one else seemed to think so. My little brother had sort of taken on the role of bodyguard, confidant, and babysitter. Always making sure poor Holland wasn’t heading for the deep end again.

So who was that weird fairy-looking chick that followed you outside?

I quickly glanced back at the doors to the school as I left the parking lot, and sure enough, my newest fan stood outside watching us drive away. As I brought my attention back to the road, I turned the corner and my view of her disappeared.

Some new girl. She heard about my experience with pyromania and wanted my autograph.

Nice! Did you give it to her?

Fuck off, Cam.

Nice again! Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?

I glanced at him, his brown eyes sparkling. "I kiss your mother with this mouth."

He groaned. "You do know that ‘your mama’ jokes aren’t funny when she’s your mom too, right?"

Whatever.

So, was Leslie waiting outside for you after Physics again?

"Is she ever not?" I asked, pulling Penny onto the freeway.

Wow. She needs to give up already. But I have to hand it to her: she’s got a lot of nerve. And stamina. Nerve for thinking you’ll ever forgive her, and stamina for the relentless apologizing. I couldn’t apologize for that long, that’s for sure.

When have you ever apologized anyway, Cam?

Pssh, when have I ever needed to?

Twenty minutes later, we parked in the lot behind the Harbor House Café in Dana Point. My stomach growled just thinking about it. Cheese fries and a chocolate shake: the lunch of champions.

Cam clapped his hands one time, his thoughts clearly mimicking my own, then climbed out of the car. He pulled off his water polo jacket, revealing a shirt that was about two sizes too small and stretched around his arms, showing all of his muscle definition.

Your shirt. Are you serious?

He flexed his bicep and winked at me, his brown eyes sparkling. The ladies love it.

I shook my head at his ridiculousness.

Cam ran a hand over his cropped brown hair, then matched his pace to mine and draped his arm across my shoulders. Clearly still stuck on Leslie, he asked, Did she say anything different this time? Anything to change your mind about her?

What, like the past few months were all a big mistake, and I’ve only been dreaming that she slept with my best friend slash boyfriend? Nah. She didn’t say anything like that. I’m pretty sure this all actually happened to me.

Yeah, well, their loss, Holl. He squeezed my shoulder.

Yeah, their loss.

Cam had said those words so many times, and I was pretty sure he believed it was their loss. I wasn’t so convinced anymore though.

Chapter Two

Mick

It didn’t ... it didn’t go very well. Ro stood in front of the big French doors, facing outside—avoiding my eyes. I was trying to stay calm, but could feel my blood pressure rising as I waited for further explanation. This was a pivotal moment for me, for us, and if Ro had messed it up . . .

What do you mean, ‘it didn’t go very well?’ I prodded.

Um, I may have approached her wrong?

Why is your statement sounding remarkably like a question, Ro? Did you or did you not introduce yourself to Holland Briggs today?

I did. And I think she hates me.

Dammit, I said on a sigh. You know how important this is.

I know, she said as she gazed down at the floor. Her toes played with the strands of carpet beneath her feet, and she didn’t look up at me again. I just . . . I don’t know . . . sometimes I just act differently than other people, and I guess—

You guess this was one of those times? I closed my eyes and inhaled a deep breath. I never yelled at my little sister, and I wasn’t about to start now. I needed to remain calm. Whatever happened, we’d fix it. Though I loved her for all her quirks, I was pretty frustrated with the fact she chose this situation to let her freak flag fly.

Okay, start from the top. Maybe the circumstances weren’t as bad as she made them sound.

Well, I found her crying in the girls’ bathroom, so I introduced myself.

That doesn’t sound too horrible, I said, wondering if she was leaving something out. I felt a small pang in my chest at the mention of Holland crying. Even though I knew she’d been through hell in recent months, hearing about it bothered me.

She bit my head off and said she didn’t want any more fangirls.

"Fangirls? I chuckled at Holland’s word choice—I couldn’t wait to finally meet her. Makes sense. She probably just thought you wanted to talk to her because she’s known as the freak who tried to kill her ex."

I didn’t really have a chance to tell her otherwise, because she stormed off.

Okay. This is doable. You’ll try again tomorrow, okay?

Yeah, for sure Mick. I want to help her as much as you want to.

I raised one eyebrow.

Ro’s cheeks flushed. "Sorry. Maybe not as much as you do, but close. I don’t want all your research to go to waste either, Mick."

"Research? You know how much more than research this is, kiddo. This is . . . life and death."

I know. She turned away, heading for the kitchen, then glanced back at me. And I want you to be happy.

I smiled and shook my head. I wanted to be happy too, but this wasn’t about my happiness. This was about Holland Briggs, and what I could do to save her. What I was born to do.

Chapter Three

Holland

Friday was uneventful, save for the occasional mournful glance thrown my direction from my ex-best friend, and the somewhat surprising reappearance of my new biggest fan.

Rosemarie wasn’t in any of my classes, thank God, but she did manage to appear out of nowhere when Cam and I were just about to get into my car after school.

Hey, Holland!

What the hell? Cam jumped—she’d clearly startled him.

I couldn’t help but smirk. Cam, meet Rosemarie. Rosemarie, my little brother, Cameron.

Little? Rosemarie scoffed. Hey, Cameron, it’s nice to meet you. She extended her arm and waited for Cam to accept her hand.

Cam raised a dark eyebrow and crossed his arms, clearly analyzing Rosemarie. He’d become so protective over me these past few months, but this was a bit extreme. She was a bit persistent, but she seemed harmless enough.

I cleared my throat, hoping to remind Cam of his manners.

He slowly shook her hand. Hey, Rosemarie. It’s, uh, nice to meet you, too?

Rosemarie ignored Cam’s half-ass statement, and turned to me. So, you guys headed anywhere tonight? I know of this killer party at a warehouse in Huntington if you want to come.

Dude, didn’t you just move here? How do you know about parties all the way up in Huntington Beach? Cam asked.

"Well, I didn’t move here from the moon, Cameron. I moved here from Huntington Beach." She slowly enunciated the words as if they would be confusing for him, and I watched as my brother’s eyes tightened, indicating his annoyance.

Yeah. Got it.

So, she turned back toward me, you guys down or what?

I shrugged. Sure.

What? Had that word really just come out of my mouth? She only asked us to go so she could show off her shiny new celebrity friend to her old friends, and everyone could get a kick out of meeting the girl who tried to set her ex on fire! What had I just done?

But something had happened when she mouthed off to Cam a moment ago. I actually . . . liked her.

Weird.

Cam’s wide eyes and clenched jaw told me my answer surprised him as much as it surprised me—then his quickly forming frown indicated his displeasure. Whoops. Because he’d long ago self-designated himself my guardian, when I agreed to go to the party with Rosemarie, Cam agreed by default. I couldn’t wait to hear all about my big snafu during the car ride home.

Sweet! Where do you guys live? San Juan?

No, we live up in Santa Margarita. We’ll meet you somewhere off the freeway, if that’s okay? No way was I giving her my address, even though she could probably get it from anyone at school.

Sweet. The Carl’s Jr. off of Oso Parkway and I-5 work for you guys?

I nodded. That works.

Cam glared at me. I ignored him.

Nine o’clock then. See you guys tonight! Rosemarie sprinted off to the sophomore/junior parking lot—which, assuming that meant she was in tenth or eleventh grade, would explain why she hadn’t been in any of my classes—her choppy black hair bouncing with each footfall, and I turned back to the car.

She really does need a set of wings, doesn’t she? I said, voicing my thoughts. She’s so—

Are you effing kidding me, Holl? Why did you do that? I have plans with the guys tonight.

Cam’s face was priceless. His eyes were wide, and his mouth was open. Then, his disbelief gave me pause. When was the last time I’d gone out on a Friday night, anyway? No wonder he was shocked. He usually only had to monitor me during school hours and the occasional random shopping trip on the weekends. Otherwise, one of our parents would be home and he could come and go as he pleased. Whoops. My bad.

Cam, you know I don’t actually need a babysitter. It’s just a party. I’m not going to hurt myself.

Cam winced, then I cringed at my own poor choice of words. Absently, I ran a thumb over my wrist and sighed.

You know what I mean, Cam. Go hang out with your friends tonight. I love you, little bro, but you need to have a life, too. You can’t spend it worried about me. It’s supposed to be the other way around.

"Did you just call me little? That’s the second time in the last ten minutes."

Ah hell. The glint of amusement in his eyes warned me I was in trouble, and he raced to my side of the car in a matter of seconds. I tried to run, but he was too fast. Before I could react, I’d been thrown over his shoulder, my feet at his ear-level. With his hands around my ankles, he held me upside down over his back. My nose inched closer to the grass—a matter of seconds before Cam rubbed my face into the ground.

Apologize!

Cam! I squealed.

A-pol-o-gize. He stretched the word out as he slowly lowered my face closer to