Page 41 of Back to Willow

“She fell my ass. I saw your minion sticking her foot out.” She paled at the sound of my words. “Yeah, that’s right, I saw the whole thing. Don’t even bother talking to me again. Ever.”

Her jaw slacked in shock, and I didn’t hesitate to turn my back on them to check if Willow was alright. Besides a few scratches on her knees and jaw, she seemed to be fine. Still, I told her, “Hop on.”

“I can walk, you know,” her soft voice sounded.

She was always so serene and unaffected by others’ lack of kindness; it often made me feel like I was overreacting, but if I didn’t stand up for her, no one would. Especially since Jake didn’t hang out with kids this young.

Ignoring her, I crouched down and motioned my head for her to climb onto my back. Up until last year, she had been taller than me, but as my mum kept telling me, puberty was finally hitting, and I had almost five inches on her now. That combined with her scrawny frame made her very easy to carry around.

With a resigned sigh, she did, and I started walking back home effortlessly.

“Thank you,” she mumbled against my shoulder.

When I stole a glance back at her, her melted chocolate irises were peeking through her thick lashes. Brown eyes are underrated. People were often obsessed with mine because they are light blue and big, but hell…hers? They were enthralling. And they always awoke those tingling effects at the bottom of my stomach.

“Always,” I managed, not choking on my saliva after swallowing the lump that formed in my throat.

When we got to my house, I put her down on the couch and started to examine her better. After moving both of her legs and confirming nothing was broken, I got the disinfectant for her wound and a few band aids.

“It’s going to sting,” I warned.

“Stop playing doctor; you’re not one yet.” Her voice sounded a little annoyed, making me chuckle. “It’s just a few scratches. It’ll be fine with a bit of water,” she mumbled weakly.

She wouldn’t tell me, but I knew how insecure she would have been feeling after being humiliated like that. What she didn’t get was that no matter how much other girls tried to catch my attention, she'd be the only one getting it.

“But I will be one day, so I know better.” I fake scolded. “Now, squeeze my shoulder if it hurts too much.”

With a shy smile and nod, I got the confirmation I needed to patch her up.

We ended up watching a movie on the couch, snuggling, and eating popcorn. In the end, it was much more fun for me. There weren’t mean kids bullying her or activities to distract us. We rarely argued, and things were just simple. Perfect.

There was nowhere I’d rather be than with my best friend because I knew that no matter what, we’d be best friends forever.

Well, it certainly wasn’t forever.

The annoyingly loud sound of my ringing phone brings me back to the present. While being way over my head because of these stupid memories, I didn’t even realise someone was calling me. As I am exiting the wide doors of the hospital, I look at my phone, only to see a number I’ve never seen before.

I frown at it, but—and I want to blame it on the daze of the memories—I accept the call without giving it much thought.

“H–hi, Liam.”

My steps falter at the voice on the other side. Regret instantaneously washes over me as I realise who’s talking to me. I shouldn’t have answered. Because once again, the universe mocks me. I accepted the call of the only person on this Earth I’d rather forget everything about. The last voice I want to listen to—or so I want to believe.

If I knew this was going to happen, I wouldn’t have fucking accepted the call.

“L—Liam?” My heart thumps faster and faster at the sound of her voice saying my name again.

Fucking hell.

Her voice is just as smooth, delicate, and innocent as it was all those years ago. It fills my ears and reaches my nerve endings, penetrating through my body silently and lodging itself in every cell like a bad disease that doesn’t want to leave.

And it angers me. It angers me so much that I still love it, her voice and how my name sounds coming from those lips. It battles within me, tearing me in half, trying to cancel the side that misses her, us.

And every time I fail to make it happen, it enrages me. I’m not only furious at her but also at myself because despite everything, I still can’t move the fuck on.

And that is the reason why I swallow the prideful part that wants to tell her to go fuck herself and answer, “What do you want, Willow?”

FOURTEEN

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