Page 55 of Ashley & the A-Listers

It just hurt too much right now.

The pile of photos grew as she tried to pick her favorites for the funeral, a slideshow of memories flickering behind her eyes as she watched herself grow in the pictures, watched her mother age, watched their lives together.

They both had long dark hair, and Ashley was partial to hersbecauseof how much she looked like her mom.

In the moment it was thrown up in a messy ponytail, but she pulled it over her shoulder and raked her hand through it only for her fingers to catch in the tangles.

She paused, touch hovering over the next photo in the stack.

They’d gone as matching witches one Halloween, their faces painted green and their hair wild. Next to each other, they looked so similar, and Ashley hoped with her whole heart that she carried the best parts of her mom within her even now.

That Halloween had been so silly. As were all the holidays. With just the two of them, her mom had tried to make them all special in some way, so Ashley wouldn’t feel like she was missing something. Their home wasn’t filled with a pack of alphas to care for and look after them.

It’d been them against the world.

And apparently… Dylan.

He appeared in so many of their photos, like he was another part of the family. His Frakenstein’s monster makeup matched the green of their witchy faces, and a wet chuckle spilled out of her at some of the pictures. Dylan holding her broom over his head where she couldn’t reach it. Their spread of candy, even though they’d been just on the verge of too old to trick or treat.

Dylan’s makeup melting off because he’d been sweating so much.

They must have traded who was behind the camera, because it was all a mixture. Her mom picking out candy out of the pile, ruffling Dylan’s hair, braiding Ashley’s when its length had gotten on her nerves.

The photo of all three of them made her chest hurt, and she stared at it for a long, long while before she finally picked up her cell phone.

She hadn’t heard from Dylan.

Not since the concert three fucking years ago.

Even if they weren’t speaking, even if he hated her for whatever reason, he had loved Lorie, too. He deserved to know.

She scrolled to the bottom of her messages. The very bottom, the graveyard of their friendship. She didn’t hate herself enough to reread them, so she typed a new one.

And deleted it.

And typed it again.

She went around and around until she was crying fresh tears, and finally hit send.

Ashley felt like she was drowning. She couldn’t catch a breath because her mom wasgone,and her best friend had left years ago, and she felt soalone.

How did people heal from something like this?

Ashley stared at the phone, expecting a response, because it was hermom,and if she needed anything right then, it was Dylan.

Even if he was miles away, even if it had been years, she felt like some part of him still cared.

But her phone remained silent, and as the light outside faded, so too did her hope.

She felt crushed all over again, and tossed her phone across the room, wrapped her arms around her knees, and tried to ignore the pang of hurt clawing its way through her chest to her heart.

A knock at the door sounded, and Ashley groaned. She did not need another casserole from the neighbors. At this point she felt guilty, because she knew so much of it was going to go to waste.

The last thing she wanted to do was eat when she felt nauseous from grief.

But she got to her feet, and tried to remember how to smile, dashing the tears from her cheeks as she opened the door.

“Oh,” she said, and blinked up at the pair before her. “Hey, guys.”

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