Page 204 of Scrimmage

She smiles softly. “Love you, hoe.”

“Love you too, bitch.”

“So about Koda…”

I groan. “Why do we keep coming back to him?”

“Because you two are freakishly perfect for each other, and now you’re free.”

“We just don’t have life in common.”

“I don’t believe that."

She wants to say something. There's a long pause in the atmosphere. "What?"

Penny sits on the end of the bed. "Sinclair misses you. More than the death thing. Everyone does. We should see them more."

“Can I get out of the hospital first before we start talking about heartfelt reunions?”

“Right. Feelings. The Vaughn family poison. Well, what do you want me to do about Koda?”

“How about you tell him to fuck himself?”

“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes again and adjusts a pillow behind me. “The doctor said you should eat. How about I get you something from the cafeteria? What about pudding?” Penny says it like it’s a five star meal.

“I take it no is not an answer you’ll accept?”

She blows me a kiss. “I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Fucking hilarious.”

Feelings are a poison. They make me uncomfortable, and the second they have a hold on you it’s too late. Every time she said Koda’s name I felt butterflies in my shredded stomach. There’s a sliver of hope that he is here, suffering, because he cares about me. I’ve been pretending I closed my heart, and, despite everything, I ended up falling for Koda fucking Armory instead.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Koda

Weeks. More than three of them.

In those three weeks I poured through every single picture of her. I found an app that had them saved to a cloud account after Jeremy gave me her phone back. I’m a little baffled that he would give it to me, and not Penny. But, just like the sketch pad all those months ago, I didn't hand it over.

No one has spoken about the Cunts leaving again. It almost seemed like it had been a bluff, but Penny wouldn’t kid about something like that.

I stare at the photos I’ve memorized at this point. There are plenty of her with Penny doing regular stuff. Some of tattoos. There are some of people I don’t recognize, which are all moody and grainy like they were taken on a shittier phone and have traveled through her cloud account to make it here.

There are some of one guy grabbing her ass or boobs and another looking like he’s about to murder them. He’s a scary looking guy, but Boob Guy doesn’t seem to give a fuck. One man with black hair that has red tips seems to be someone she’s always talking to, or at, depending on how you look at it. They’re usually doing thinking poses in front of things or in the corner of a party with masks on in deep discussion.

Ashland has brown hair in several of them, then it turns purple, and that’s when things start to amp up. It looks like she’s in a bunch of different cities, usually surrounded by stage equipment. She’s with Sinclair. They pose on walls. Sometimes they’re doing graffiti. There’s even some of Ashland on his back kissing his cheek, or messing up his hair before both of them dyed theirs.

The similarities are striking. They’re so similar in character, always flicking off the camera or doing something ridiculous. You can’t always see Sinclair’s eyes. Sometimes he’s wearing blackout contacts, making himself look like a demon. You can tell they’re close, but I had never heard of Sinclair until she was almost dead.

Candids of her with the Scary Guy are everywhere. This must be the one who wrote her an album. The one who never held her hand. Her ex. They’re hugging, his arms wrapped around her like he’s shielding her from the world. She’s sitting on the edge of a stage, looking down, while he has his guitar in his lap. They’re all over Europe in different places taking weird pictures, usually hiding their faces, but I can tell it’s him. There are some of them laughing, carrying on about something. I would have thought that guy has never laughed a day in his fucking life, but it seems like Ashland brings that out of him. She has that effect on people.

All of her photos with Penny are in their own album. Pizza face down on the floor with Penny pouting. Candids of Penny in the art building or standing at the kitchen counter. There are pictures of them partying, and it makes me laugh. They’re having movie nights. There are epic kitchen failures, even setting it on fire. Eating candy. Standing in a few different cities. They’re always being the ridiculous cunts I have come to know and love.

I delete every single one featuring Cole. She can be mad at me about it later. When she wakes up she’s going to hate me anyways, because I’m the one who left her that night.

There’s one of me in the locker room, headphones on with my face in a book, studying. A lot of them have text, and she must have sent them to Penny. Various statements, completely roasting me in only the way Ashland can. Some of them, though, are of us. I didn’t know she was taking them. We’re in the car. I’m doing my stupid thing with the plates. We’re painting. Then the candids. The one of us watching Barbie. Ashland and I at happy hour. Parties. One that someone took of us, probably Penny, on New Year’s.

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