Whole Girl

"Oh - Am, you're home."

I gave my mother a steely glare as I crossed my arms over my chest. I was on the verge of having a mental breakdown and she had the nerve to bring her little boy toy intern home with her? The guy literally looked like he was my age. He couldn't be older than twenty, if he was even that. And my thirty-nine year old mother was banging him. Ew.

"Yeah, I'm home," I snapped, tapping my heal against the hardwood floor.
"But you're going out," she prompted while her boy toy cowered behind her.

"What makes you think that?" I sneered in annoyance. I was stressed over August's party tonight and this encounter was not helping.
"Well you're waiting by the door wearing a ball gown," she said smarmily.

"Yeah. I'm going out," I said bluntly, refusing to recognize the fact that she was right, "My boyfriend's having a party tonight."
"That burn out kid Will is throwing a keger and you're wearing that?" she asked snootily, raising an eyebrow.

Did she really think I would wear this to some teenage party? I was wearing a form-fitting, silk, strapless, floor-length, glittery, black gown for God's sake. I had gold bracelets around my wrists and an elaborate gold choker on with dozens of chains falling from it. My heels were a good four inches high but my dress covered them. My hair was down and I had gold eyeshadow and red lipstick on. I looked like I was going to prom; not a fucking house party.

"First off, Will and I broke up two weeks ago. I'm dating August now. His father's the ambassador of Australia and I'm going to his birthday party at their mansion," I explained to her in annoyance. I wasn't sure what annoyed me more; the fact that she had called Will a burn out, or the fact that she was so out-of-touch with my life that she didn't realize that we'd broken up.

"Fancy, fancy," was all she said but really, she was glad I'd broken up with that "kid who was going nowhere in life."
"Yeah. So if you two could hold off on the intercourse until August picks me up . . . That'd be great," I sneered at them.

"Oh Amunet . . . " my mother mumbled in exasperation, rolling her eyes as her boy toy ran his hands through his hair and stared at the floor in embarrassment. My mother elbowed him gently in the stomach to get his attention. He looked up at her and she nodded towards me, prompting him to introduce himself.

"I'm Tony," he said as he stepped out of my mother's shadow, holding out his hand.
I kept my arms crossed and looked at his outstretched hand for a moment. "I'm not calling you Daddy," I told him plainly.

"Wasn't expecting you to," he mumbled as he ran a hand through his light brown hair nervously.
"Ignore my daughter Tony," my mother soothed him, coming up behind him and rubbing circles on his back, "She hates any guy I date."

"I don't hate the guys you date Mom, I hate the fact that they're closer to my age than to yours," I snapped.
My mother shook her head in a 'you just don't understand' fashion. "I might as well use my looks while they last," was all she said, as if that was an explanation.

"And what better way to do that than to bang little sluts half your age?" I quipped.
"Amunet Dendera Lamorte," my mother thundered, "You watch your mouth and apologize to Anthony."

I looked over at Anthony with a raised eyebrow, giving him a speculative once over. He was certainly good looking. My mother had good taste, I'd give her that. He was probably fresh out of high school, but the stubble on his chin made him look about college age. He was tan with tousled light brown hair, puppy dog eyes, and an attractive face and body. He was dressed nicely too; in dark jeans and a green button up shirt.

"Anthony," I said, looking him dead in the eye, "I am sorry that you are such a little slut."
He looked shocked but he recovered quickly. "And I'm sorry that you're such a little bitch," he retorted with surprised heat.

I had to admit, I did respect him more after that last comment. Of course, not enough to stop me from wanting to rip his testicles off over it.

"Amunet! Anthony!" my mother bellowed, sounding like she was scolding her two children. That made me smirk. Anthony just raised an eyebrow in a 'you're kidding' way. He didn't appreciate being treated like a child. He may have been half her age but he considered himself an equal in their relationship. She didn't.

"Tony," my mother hissed between her teeth. She did not want him to start this now.
He just crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a look that clearly said 'if you want to keep fucking me . . .' He was as every bit as petulant and stubborn as any teenager I'd ever met. Probably because he was one.

"Amunet," my mother said sternly, turning to me as she realized that disciplining her boyfriend was not going to fly, "You are grounded. Give me your car keys."
She was holding out her hand for my keys and I stared at her hand. After a silent moment, I reached into my purse and handed her my keys. "Take 'em. I don't need them."

Just then I noticed headlights flood through the window from the corner of my eye. It was accompanied by the thundering hum of a luxury sports car. A devious smirk crossed my lips.

"I don't need them because August can take me anywhere I want to go," I sneered and grabbed the door handle.
"Amunet don't you dare get in that boy's car," she warned.

"I'm not," I said, "I'm going to get in my new car that my rich boyfriend is giving me for having sex with him."
"Amunet Dendera Lamorte!" she said, sounding like she was about to pop a blood vessel.

"Goodbye mother," I said, slamming the door behind me. Using telekinesis, I locked it so she'd have to struggle with that to get to me. I lifted my skirt slightly so I could descend the porch without hurting myself. I made my way down the walkway and up the driveway, my heels clicking against the ground as I went.

"AMUNET!" my mother screamed out at me from the porch as I reached my new car. I looked over my shoulder at her with a look of pure anger. I hadn't been so mad at my mother in years. My life was in shambles and she didn't even care, she didn't even notice. As long as she got to fuck her little love toy, she could care less about me. And that pissed me off.

Without another word I angrily pounded on the window of my new tiny sports car until August got out, looking aggravatingly debonair and absolutely prime evil in a black suit.

"What 'tis it love?" he asked.
"I'm driving," I told him heatedly.

"Alright princess," he said passively, getting into the passenger seat as I threw myself into the driver's seat and put my healed foot to the gas. The car took off, roaring underneath me as I turned around on the col-de-sac and sped down the hill.

"Everything alright princess?" August asked.
"No," I muttered irately, "My mom's being a bitch. Trying to make me get along with her little sex toy intern who is like my age."

"I'm sorry lovie," he said, "Don't worry. You'll forget all about her at the party."
"Good," I snapped volatilely, although I wasn't so sure that it was good.

"You'll have a great time," he promised.
"Wait a minute," I realized, "I don't know where you live."

"Relax darling," he said, "I'll give you directions. It's not far from here." We didn't speak for the rest of the way, except for him telling me to turn here or take a left there. I of course couldn't help but notice that we had entered a very upscale neighborhood containing large elegant houses that were few and far between. At the end of the road there was a large mansion on top of a hill with fancy cars parked all along it's winding driving and out front on the curb. I had a pretty good idea of who lived there.

"This one right 'ere flower," he said, pointing to that exact house.
"Shocking," I muttered, "Ugh, we're going to have to walk up that whole big hill."

"I'll carry you if you want princess," he teased.
I snorted. "Just because I don't like walking uphill doesn't mean I can't," I snapped, refusing to be carried by August.

"I was kidding dear," he said.
I didn't respond to that. "Where the hell am I supposed to park?" I demanded.

"Over there is fine," he said, pointing at the end of a large line of cars.
I made a face and groaned. "For the love of Christ . . ." I muttered. It was going to take forever to get up to that damn house.

I parked the car behind a bright yellow sports car and killed the engine. I took the keys out of the ignition and stashed them in my purse.
"So I take it you like the car?" he inquired.

"Yes," I said, "I like it a lot."
Even in the darkness that filled the car, I could see the devilish smile that crossed his lips. "Good," he said, but the one word had a million sinister implications.

Immediately I opened the car door and stepped outside. With my heels on, I could see over the small car to see August standing on the other side of the car. It may have been late, but there were lights coming from all over. The entire mansion on the hill was lit up, lights streaming out of every window with the porch lights on as well. People were everywhere, all dressed immaculately and making their way up to the house.

"Let's get going," I said, beginning the walk to the driveway. He caught up with me with ease and we began the endless trek to the house. The driveway seemed never ending. August had an arm around my waist as I made the horrid journey in my accursed heels. We were both silent but occasionally I noticed August shooting friendly smiles at certain people. Probably people who knew the real August.

When we finally reached the front door there was a line to get in. A fucking line. It was August's damn house and we had to wait on a line to get in. I'm surprised that he was okay with that. I half expected him to just push everybody aside and storm in like the petulant brat he was. But maybe the real August wasn't like that, and this 'August' didn't want to tip people off by acting out of character. He was smart, I'd give him that.

When we finally reached the door the man in the suit let us in without asking for our names. He obviously recognized August. He lived here after all. Inside, the house was extravagant. I mean my house was nice, but it still looked like a house. This looked more like a reception hall; a really nice and really large reception hall. The room was circularly shaped and the walls were bathed in white with intricate designs carved into them. There were tables of refreshments and people in formal clothing everywhere. Nicely dressed waiters delivered drinks and Hors d'œuvre to guests.

"Jesus Christ," I muttered, stepping inside. I was familiar with higher living, but not this high.
"Nice it 'n it?" he asked, smiling. "Look there's me Mum and Dad."

I looked where he was nodding to see Harrison and Katherine Bronze standing across the room, mingling with other wealthy people. Harrison and Katherine looked just like they did in the picture of them that Heather had shown me. Harrison Bronze was your average middle aged man with thinning hair, but without the beer belly. He was wearing an expensive looking suit and the smile on his lips made it clear that he was born to be a politician. His wife, Katherine, looked every bit as charismatic. She appeared a little younger than her husband, but that was probably due to the Botox. Her fair hair was short and sleek and her gown was an alluring forest green color. They looked like too very successful people.

Who were too stupid to realize their son had been possessed.

"Let's go say hello," I said.
"Certainly," he agreed, leading me across the room. People glanced at us and smiled and August smiled back like he knew them.

"Auggie! There you are," Katherine Bronze rejoiced in a distinct Australian accent when we neared her, breaking away from her conversation to come greet us.
"Sorry mum," he apologized for his lateness smoothly, "Amunet's is pretty far out there though."

"Ah yes," she said, turning to me with a smile, "The famous Amunet. You must be her. I've heard so much about you."
"And I've heard nothing of you," I said. It wasn't meant to be a joke, but they both laughed anyway.

"That's probably for the best," she said in her fluttery, delighted voice, "Right Auggie?"
"Certainly," he agreed, "The stories I have to tell about you mum are not the sort of stories you want people hearing."

"Oh hush. Harrison," she called daintily, "Come over here and meet your son's girlfriend."
Mr. Bronze smiled to the people he was conversing with before departing and coming to stand beside his wife. He had a glass of champagne in his hand.

"You must be Amunet," he said in a smooth, accented voice, reaching out with his unoccupied hand to shake mine.
"Yes I am," I said.

"My son's told us all about you," he went on.
I let my eyes slide over to give August an accusatory glare. "So I've heard."

"You're just as beautiful as Auggie said you were," he said, smiling at me.
"Makeup helps," I said quietly.

"And modest too," Katherine giggled, "Don't let this one go Auggie."
"I certainly won't mum," he said, his slips set in a sinister grin.

He certainly will when I certainly make him.

"Lovely," she rejoiced, "I'd love to stay and chat but there's so many we have to mingle with."
"It's alright," I said.

"Do stop by more often," she insisted though, "So we can get to know each other better."
"Will do," I lied.

"It was nice meeting you Amunet," Harrison Bronze said, "Your blood seems worth bottling."
I stared at them in confusion and disgust as they walked off together to go mingle with others.

"What did he just say to me?" I demanded of August. I thought his parents were humans!
"It's an expression," he explained, "Obviously not an American expression."

"What the hell does it mean?" I asked.
"It means he thinks your a nice person," he explained.

"Well that's an awful creepy way of saying it," I muttered.
He shrugged, beginning to guide me in the direction of the bar. "It's the way people talk back home."

"How come you never talk like that?" I asked. My voice held a note of accusation.
"Do you want me to talk like that?" he retorted.

"I'd like to see it," I hinted, not believing he could. Seeing as he wasn't the real August.
"All 'ight," he said, "You asked for it."

He led me over to the bar and said to the bartender, "Two glasses of Montrachet. None of that plonk for us."
I had no clue what that meant, and neither did the bartender, who obviously wasn't Australian. But he did know what kind of wine August had asked for. Apparently it was ridiculously expensive. I wasn't surprised.

"Thanks mate," August said when the bartender handed each of us a glass of wine.
"Your parents let you drink?" I asked him.

"Course they do. All the top poppies I know let their children drink," he said with a shrug.
I cursed myself for challenging him. Obviously he could keep up the Australian facade but chose not to. Which meant he'd been pretending to be the real August for longer than I thought.

I gave him a glare to tell him he could stop but he just smirked back. I was about to verbally tell him to knock it off when a guy came over to us. He looked around our age, maybe in his early twenties with thick wavy brown hair and an expensive suit on his body. He held a flute of champagne as he waltzed over to us.

"Auggie Bronze," he said in an accented voice, "Long time no see mate."
August raised his glass to him. "That'd be right," he said. "Amunet, this is Carter. We've been mates since kindie, right Carter?"

"Right," he agreed, "I can't remember the last time I saw you. Not since your daddy became a polly and you all went O.S. last year."
"It's down right tragic that we haven't kept up our contacts," August said, nodding and lifting his glass.

Carter shrugged. "The past is the past. So when are you all coming back to Oz?"
"I don't have the slightest idea," August said in response.

"Soon I imagine," Carter said, "You all must miss the Big Smokes, after being stuck out here in the middle of bloody nowhere."
"Well I've had this sheila to keep me entertained," August said, securing a hand around my waist.

"Entertained huh?" Carter said, smirking.
"Not like that," August disagreed, "Not until tonight that is."

Even I got that.

Carter grinned at him, assuming me too stupid to keep up with the conversation. "And how you gonna do that mate?"
"Get her downright rotten," August explained, smirking.

"You'll need a whole lot more plonk than that then," he said, looking at the glass in my hand.
"Not much more," August disagreed, "She's a two pot screamer."

And just like that I was lost again.

"Ah so a few more glasses and you'll have her rooted enough to show you her Mappa Tassie."
My what?

"Hopefully she'll do more than show," August said, smirking.
"Um hello?" I spoke up, "I am right here. Just because I don't know exactly what you're saying doesn't mean I don't know that you're talking about getting me plastered and then fucking me."

"Plastered?" Carter repeated.
"Now how do you know that's what we were talking about?" August demanded of me, ignoring Carter.

"Because I'm not an idiot?" I asked, going heavy on the sarcasm.
He must have decided denying it wasn't going to work. "Well we did have a deal, didn't we princess?"

"Well the deals off unless you stop using words I don't understand," I snapped petulantly.
"Deal on then," he said, smirking.

I had no fucking clue how I was going to get out of this.

"It was great seeing you Carter," August was saying, "But I'll 'ave to catch up with you later. I see another bloke over there that I need to speak with."
"Sure thing Auggie," Carter said, shaking his hand, "I'll catch you later. You too sheila."

I glared at him as he walked away before turning to August. "So which one of these pretentious bastards do you want to talk with now?"
He lifted his glass in the direction of the door. "That one."

I followed his gesture towards the entrance, to see Will just walking in. I wasn't sure what shocked me more. The fact that he had actually shown up or the fact that he was wearing a suit. He looked . . . absolutely stunning. He just seemed so debonair with a suit on. Granted, his hair was still a shaggy mess with black tips, but somehow that made him look even better. It personalized his outfit.

He was flanked on either side by a skank. Xana on his left and Little Lyn on his right. They stuck out like sore thumbs . . . Granted, exotically gorgeous sore thumbs but still. Xana was wearing a blood red gown with a slit going all the way up her leg. She'd dyed her hair since the last time I'd seen her. It used to be white and purple; now it was white and red. To match her dress.

Little Lyn was even more flamboyant. Her dress was short and made out of metallicy, hot pink material that bunched together. Her pastel streaked blonde hair had all sorts of pink beads adorning it and around her eyes, she had painted a pink masquerade mask. She looked like she was a part of Circ de Soleil.

"I can't believe he showed up," I said to August in reference to Will.
"I can," August said with a devious smirk, beginning to stride over to the trio.

I kept pace with him without looking too conscious. "I swear to God August if you hurt him I will disembowel you with a rusty can opener," I hissed at him.
"Relax darling," he said smoothly.

"I mean it August," I went on, "You swore not to hurt him. We had a deal. If you break it I'll make you regret it."
"If I didn't know better desert flower," he said, "I would think you still had feelings for him."

"What do you care how I feel?" I snarled, "As long as I'm yours, right?"
"That's right," he sung lowly, "You're mine."

"That's right," I agreed grudgingly, "So you have no reason to want to hurt him."
"Right," he said, but I felt like he was lying.

I was about to press on but we'd arrived. Now we were face to face with Will and his harem.
"William," August said in a friendly tone, "You made it."

Will shrugged. "Yeah well these ritzy parties always have really good liquor so . . ." he trailed off. Now that we were so close, I could see a fresh bruise on his jaw.
"Still, how lovely of you to join us," he said, "So who are these gorgeous ladies?"

"This is Xana," Will said, gesturing to each girl as he said their name, "And this is Little Lyn. Girls, you remember August. From Nightmare?"
Little Lyn made a face like she didn't remember him but Xana nodded slowly, her serious gaze falling on me for a minute. "I remember," she said.

I thought back to that night and felt a chill go down my spine.

"Well it's wonderful to meet you formally," August said, shaking each of their hands. Xana looked reluctant to touch him but eventually did. August and Little Lyn began talking then, casually, just about Nightmare. But still, I was surprised she felt comfortable enough to talk to him. Xana obviously didn't. She just stared at me the entire time with those big, somber eyes. She wasn't the only one staring at me though. Will was too. And the look in his eyes was absolutely mournful.

It was just a devastated look. It was a combination of anger, sadness, longing. But most of all, mourning. He was looking at me like one would look at a deceased loved one lying in a casket. With love, but with the conviction that what you're looking at is not really the person you loved. That was how Will was looking at me. Like I was a shell. Like the real me was gone forever. Like he'd loved the real me. Like he missed the real me.

And that's when I decided that I couldn't let Will suffer anymore. Consequences be damned. I couldn't do this anymore. I couldn't keep lying. It was killing me to hurt Will over and over and over again. I couldn't go on like this. I had to end this. Tonight. Right now.

Channeling my telekinesis, I ever so slightly tilted August's wine glass forward as he went to take a sip. The red liquid spilled down the front of his suit, causing him to jump back and nearly drop the glass.

"Mother fucker," he muttered in annoyance, looking down at his stained suit.
"You should go wash that out before it stains," I suggested.

"You're right," he mumbled the agreement, "I'll be right back."
And as expected, he walked away, off to go clean his suit. I had to bite back the smirk.

Xana, oh intuitive Xana, must have realized I was trying to stick it to August and she smiled at me. "Lyn?" she said to the small blonde, "How about we go get drinks."
"Ohh yummy!" she squealed, "You coming Will?"

He was about to say yes but I cut him off. "How about just you to go?" I suggested, "I need to talk to Will."
Little Lyn frowned, seeming more annoyed than the situation demanded. "Alright," she pouted.

"C'mon Little Lyn," Xana said, leading her away. I watched them walk away until they were out of earshot before turning back to Will. His mournful expression was gone and now he just looked pissed. I forced myself to remember that under that angry exterior was a broken interior. His hate was fueled by the pain I had caused him.

"What the hell do you want?" he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I need to talk to you," I said. "In private."

"Oh this has gotta be good," he muttered.
"Just c'mon," I hissed at him.

I wanted to grab his hand and lead him away, but knew he wouldn't let me. So I just started walking and let him follow behind me. I wasn't sure where I was going actually. I was just looking for somewhere private. Bathroom, closet, anything. I eventually located a hallway that veered off of the main room and went down that way. The hallway was just like the main room; unusually large and extravagantly decorated.

"Where are you taking me?" Will demanded, irate.
I didn't respond and continued my frantic search. I didn't have much time before August came looking for me. I kept checking doors but they kept leading to places that seemed less than suitable. Finally, I located a coat closet.

"Get in," I said, holding it open for Will.
He stared at the closet for a moment. "Seriously?" he asked.

"Seriously," I urged.
He sighed. "Fine, but remember that this was your idea."

He stepped inside the closet and I followed, closing the door behind us. Light streamed in from under the door but other than that it was pitch black. I could just barely see Will's face, right in front of mine. The closet wasn't large and expensive fur coats were pressing up against my back.

"So what is so damn important that you," he said, "Had to drag me away from free booze? Haven't you caused me enough pain?"
"Yes," I admitted, "And that's why I'm doing this."

In the faint light, I could just barely see him furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. "What are you talking about?"
Instead of answering, I opened my mind out to him, attempting to create a link between our minds.

"What are you doing?" he asked skeptically.
"Shut up," I hissed, trying to concentrate.

I tried to remember what Will had told me when he'd tried to teach me telepathy . . . Expand your mind . . . I closed my eyes and opened my mind. I tried to imagine my thoughts being barricaded behind a door, and then I tried to imagine that door flying open, sharing my thoughts with Will.

Hone in on that person . . . .Remembering Will's words I began to concentrate on him. I didn't need to open my eyes to see him. I knew every contour of his face by heart. I knew how his lips felt against mine and how his hands felt against my skin. I thought of his soft dark brown hair, but without the black tips. I imagined his hair with the rainbow tips, the way it should be. Colorful. Just like Will. I thought of his pearly, radiant skin and his imposing muscles. And I thought of his eyes. Those stormy grey eyes that looked the sky over the sea just before a storm. Turbulent and unpredictable, dangerous even, but beautiful. So beautiful . . .

"Will . . ."

"Nettie?"
"It feels so nice to hear him say that . . ."
I'd thought that, yet I'd just heard it clear as day. As if it had been spoken. Obviously Will heard it too.

"Well I didn't actually say it," he pointed out, "I thought it. Of course you finally learn to use telepathy after we break up."
"Will there's something I need to tell you,"
I thought.

"I gathered that." Somehow, even his mental voice managed to be snarky.
"There's so much I need to tell you . . . So much you don't know."

And with that introduction, I opened up my mind. I allowed all of my memories over the last few weeks flood out of me and into Will. I showed him everything. I showed him the confrontation between August and I outside his hospital room, when August had threatened to kill Will if I didn't break up with him. I showed him that August was actually present during our breakup with a knife, forcing me to say horrible things to him to make him cry. I showed him my horrific meltdown after our breakup. I showed him a multitude of conversations with August and I showed him the night at Nightmare, when August had beat me up. And I showed him how I'd spied on him during his meltdown the other day. I showed him when I'd told Heather everything and when I was at her house and we discovered that the Augst we knew was an imposter.

And after the memories, I gave Will the feelings. The sadness, the guilt, the self-hate. But never hate for him. I shared with him my feelings of undying love for him. I let him know that through everything, I had always loved him. I let him know that I'd done I'd done to protect him.

By the end, I was crying. Sobbing actually. Against Will's chest. His arms were around me as I cried into his chest. I could feel Will's tears landing on my hair but they were much more infrequent than mine.

"I'm so sorry," I sobbed miserably, "I'm so sorry. I-I never meant to hurt you. I . . . I just wanted to protect you. It seemed like the right thing to do . . . My head kept telling me it was right. My brain just kept saying that I had to do this . . . But my heart. . . my heart kept saying that it was wrong. That I was wrong without you."

"Without you," I went on, "Everything was wrong. I couldn't read or listen to music because every line and every lyric reminded me of you. Every time I drove by Hanley's or saw the tree that you first kissed me under I wanted to cry. I could barely stand Hollow Creek anymore. Everything reminded me of you. I wanted to get away. I just wanted to go somewhere where the pain couldn't touch me."

"But the idea of leaving was almost more painful than staying," I went on crying, "Because if I left Hollow Creek . . . How would I know if I would ever see you again? And the idea of never seeing you again . . . Never having you hold me or kiss me or make me laugh or tell me everything was going to be okay . . . That was a million times worse than seeing the hate in your eyes everyday."

"But still . . . It didn't make the pain go away. I felt so . . . guilty. I watched you everyday. Watched you smile less and less . . . Watch you scowl more and more. You never laughed unless you were high. And when you weren't high . . . you looked miserable. Angry and bitter. And all I could do was watch on helplessly as you got colder and colder everyday. And I wanted to kill myself for turning a great person like you into a bitter ice sculpture like me."

"And then the other day . . . When I saw you cry like that . . . When I heard how much pain you were in . . . I wanted to go to you and put my arms around you - to tell you the truth . . . To make you feel better. But my head, my head told me I couldn't. That I couldn't put you in danger like that. That it was selfish to endanger you like that. But my heart . . . It kept telling me to help you. And I kept telling it to shut up."

"And then today . . . I saw that look in your eyes. You looked so . . . miserable. You looked at me like I was the corpse of the love of your life. And I just couldn't stand to see you in pain anymore. I stopped caring about August and his threats . . . All I cared about was you. . .All I care about is you."

I looked up at him then. He'd been silent this whole time. Tears streaked his cheeks but he was smiling. "All I care about is you," he finally said, "I don't care if August kills me. As long as I die knowing that you loved me . . . Then I'll die happy. . ."

The tears began falling harder from my eyes as I realized that August could very well find out about this and kill Will. My throat felt raw and sore and I felt like I was going to throw up. The tears were falling so hard and so fast that I could barely catch my breath.

"Knowing is enough," Will went on, "But . . . It'd be nice to hear you say it . . . Just once . . . Before I die."
"I love you," I managed through my tears.

"I love you too," he said, holding me closer.
"I'm so sorry," I sobbed.

"Don't be," he said, petting my hair.
"This is all my fault," I disagreed, "If it wasn't for me, none of this would have happened. Your life wouldn't be in danger."

He put a hand under my chin and forced me to look up. I could barely see his face in the darkness but I could see the tears that streaked his cheeks, illuminated in the faint light. "If it wasn't for you Nettie, my life wouldn't matter," he said, "Not to me anyway. I told you already. All I care about is you. Without you, my life isn't worth living."

"Yes it would be," I disagreed, "So many people love you Will."
"Those people aren't you," he said.

The tears starting falling even harder as I realized how much Will loved me. I was the most important thing to him. I wasn't the most important thing in the world to anybody before. Even my own mother had better things to do than spend time with me. Will was the only person who really loved me. And I might not have been the only person who loved Will, but I sure as hell loved him th most.

"You can't die," I sobbed, "I - I won't let you. If August tries to kill you I'll threaten to kill myself. And if kills you anyway, I will kill myself."
"Nettie," he said, his voice very serious, "You can't do that."

"Yes I can," I said fiercely, "I can't live in a world without you. I have nothing else. You're my life Will."
"Nettie, please, if you love me, you won't do that," he pleaded.

"If you love me you'll understand why I would have to do that," I argued, "You're my other half Will. If you're dead, I'm half dead anyway. And the pain . . . The pain of living in a world without you would be so unbearable . . . You wouldn't want me to be in that much pain."

"I - I wouldn't," he struggled, "But Nettie - the thought of you dead . . . Even if I'm already dead, it's just . . . it's awful."
"How do you think I feel?" I demanded, "I mean, you're the one who's life is in danger."

"Then . . . then I guess we have to do something," he decided.
"We have to get the spirit out of August," I said.

"If we wound him badly enough maybe the spirit will leave his body," Will offered.
"That might work," I said, "But if it doesn't . . . I'm prepared to kill the real August to get rid of the fake one. I don't want to, but I will, if I have to."

Will nodded. "I'll do anything to be with you again," he said solemnly.
I nodded in agreement, more tears forming in my eyes. "I'll do anything to make you safe," I agreed.

"I love you Nettie," he said, his grip around me tightening, "More than anything. Before I met you . . . I didn't even know it was possible to love someone so much that you'd not only die for them, but that you'd die with a smile on your face because at least you got to love her, even if it was just for a little while. I love you Nettie."

"I love you too Will," I sobbed, "And I swear, I'm not going to let him tear us apart. Not again."
"Never," Will promised, as the door suddenly opened, filling the closet with light.

"So this is where the lovebirds have made their nest?" August asked with a sinister smirk on his lips.


I know, I know, I know. I'm a horrible person for making you wait this long. I'm sorry. I had writer's block. I blame summer. But I'm back now and more pumped than ever to write! Hope you liked this chapter - I made it super long because I felt bad for not updating and I made Will and Nettie get back together so . . .No complaining about me taking forever, okay? But still review anyway! Oh, and check out my new story Get Bitten. It'll be a while before the next chapter of She Hates You is up. Not as long as last time though, I swear. Maybe a week. It's going to be an intense chapter so give me a little time. Anyway, thanks to all of you for sticking with me through the writer's block. I love you all! And please review! :D