Disclaimer: Not mine. :)

A/N: You guys were so wonderful and thoughtful with your reviews from the last chapter. Here's a thank you. :)

Hope you enjoy!

-S

P.S. I didn't proof it as much as I should have but doing that would have delayed this post so I'm just going to hope it's not too horrible. :)


Miss Imprint

Chapter 22: Composure

"You knew." He said, his hips slouched forward because of the way he ducked to lean against the lockers.

It was after school and I'd successfully avoided him okay until now, after the bells had rung and everyone had gone home. Or at least I had thought so until I walked up to my locker and there he was in all of his heart-achingly beautiful glory.

A small sliver of brown skin was exposed at his hip. "You knew." He repeated. It was sounding more like an accusation each time he said it. A sly smirk was pulling at his lips. "You knew."

"Knew what?" I feigned ignorance as I leaned to the side to pull something-anything out of my messenger bag.

"You knew it was going to happen last night…that's why you did all of that—why you pretended."

I cut him off. "I didn't pretend, Seth." My voice was wooden and dulled. "But what happened? What're you talking about?" The devastation was on my face before he said anything.

"I imprinted." He sounded less sure now. His shoulders were higher than they should have been.

I sucked in a heavy breath and then let it out in uncontrolled gasps. To hear him say it—like it was a fact, obvious and unshakable was like a sledgehammer to my gut. I let my messenger bag slide off my arm. "You what?" My voice wasn't hushed, it was barely there. I didn't even need to pretend anymore. This was the reaction I'd been hiding for so long, and now it flowed naturally and uncontrolled from me.

His eyes widened and he stood straighter, his brows downturned. "You didn't know?"

"You imprinted." I let my jaw drop—stunned, I needed to be stunned. "You imprinted." The words started to lose their meaning as I repeated them. Good. I didn't want them to mean anything. I wanted to forget they existed. "You imprinted."

But I couldn't. Because the heartbreak that had been on his face the night before was gone. She's taken it, soothed with a single glance. The demise of our epic friendship, the one we'd had since I was three and he was two and a half and he tried to finger paint on my drawing in pre-school and I'd dumped glue on his head in retribution was erased in his mind. It didn't mean anything, we didn't mean anything because she meant too much.

I was outraged. "How? How could I possibly have known?" I shoved him, hard. "You don't even care do you? You don't even care that we freaking broke uplast night. You're over it." I spat the words at him.

But he didn't look hurt. He would have before, he would have been horrified at the person he was becoming. But he just shrugged. "You cheated on me. You don't get to know how I feel." He laughed sardonically, wickedly. It wasn't him. This wasn't him. "Besides—now you don't have to deal with me moping about how betrayed I felt. It's a win-win."

He was wrong. He was so incredibly wrong and the worst part was I couldn't even tell him he was wrong. I just shook my head. This was getting too real. I was supposed to be in control of this part. I was supposed to orchestrate how this went. But I suddenly he'd taken the reins and I couldn't get them back. "Seth, just because your DNA decided to zone in on some girl, doesn't mean that you have to let it happen. That you could just forget about us. We've been friends for 14 years—you don't just throw that away in one night."

"Why? You did."

I felt like I'd been sucker-punched and I gaped because I didn't have anything to say. He was right. And even thought this is what I had wanted—somehow it didn't seem like it was anymore. He'd cheapened what I'd done. It didn't feel remotely selfless anymore. It just felt cruel and unnecessary. If he felt so okay with everything maybe it was all for nothing. Maybe I'd given him too much credit. Maybe he would've struggled for a day or two and then left-trusting me to let him go.

Martyrdom didn't suit me. I hated it. I wanted him to be heartbroken. To feel like I was feeling—like nothing would ever be okay again because I'd broken my other half. But I wasn't that person for him—you know? That person that would massage his back when he was older, and cook him dinner after a hard days work and get surprise romanced on random days of the week by him. That was her, now. And even though I was hurt, and it felt like he'd ripped out a piece of me.

"You know I'm right, don't you? It's why you're not saying anything." Seth stood straighter and unthinkingly I took a few steps back.

"Whatever Seth." I kept my gaze steely and on his forehead. I needed to be upset. I would have been furious if this hadn't all been on purpose. "I forgot you for a night, you're about to forget me for the rest of your life."

He blinked. Stunned. "Cassie, you think-"

"Don't-just don't."

"Cassie, you don't understand, it's not-"

"Stop." I couldn't hear anymore of this. It was too hard, it was too damn hard. "Please stop."

He exhaled, frustrated. I could tell by the way his hand gripped his shirt. "Okay."

"I need to get something from my locker." I said woodenly, wishing he would just go away. If he stood there any longer, looking so impassioned and wonderful, I would throw in the towel and just beg him to remember me again. To remember us.

He hesitated and then stepped aside.

"Thanks." I said, my voice flat. Uninspired.

"Your welcome." He was still lingering but then his gaze drifted down the hall and he froze. It was her.

She was waiting for him, her books gripped to her chest, and I felt myself freeze. She went to our school. How had I never noticed her before? But there she was: eyes wide, mouth pouted and her perfect, dull, insipid hair falling around her face just waiting to be pushed back.

He turned back to me but there was a light in him that I'd never seen before. He was happy, buzzing, vibrant and impossibly happy. "I've gotta go."

And I couldn't stop myself. "Seth? Is that…is that her?"

He nodded, watching me carefully. "Yeah—do you want to meet her?"

And for a moment all I could think was how satisfying it would be to smack him upside the head. And hard. He was such a guy.

"I think," I said, faintly, "that that is what we call the worst suggestion ever."

He laughed. "Rein check?"

"Yeah—sure—can't wait." I rocked back on my heels. "

He smiled but it was nervous. "Cassie—I thought…"

"I'm sorry—I'm okay, okay?" I smiled hard. "But I've got to go." I tipping my head slightly towards her. "And so do you."

He nodded. "I'll see you?"

"Yeah." I reached forward and squeezed his hand on impulse. Some habits were hard to break and that had always been our signal when we needed time. But he was nervous and I was wimp and couldn't bare to leave him like that. "Soon." I promised vaguely and he smiled.

But his mind was elsewhere, even I could tell. I shrugged, before giving him a gentle push. "Don't keep her waiting. It's a miracle she'll put up with you." The humor was thin, bland, but he humored me anyway and chuckled.

"I'm going." And then he was gone, striding long, confident steps towards her.

I pulled my locker door open gingerly, pulling out a few books and haphazardly dumping them into my bag. And through the small magnet mirror on the door, I watched him slip his fingers between hers, and how she leaned against him, fitting into him. And I watched as the small sliver of the wall disappeared as she tiptoed to kiss him.

My forehead thudded lightly against the mirror, blocking them out with my face. My eyes were wide, red and running as I blinked once, twice and the tears came spilling out.

My front teeth bit into my lower lip as I tried to focus myself, to keep composure. Head in the game, Cassie, I whispered. Your whole life wasn't about a guy—even one as great as Seth.

There was more to it than that. What they have was unnatural—it was a sick, twisted joke that nature played on them. Because one day they were going to die and it wouldn't be together. And they were going to realize that they spent their entire life living for someone else, which wasn't living at all really. It was just existing.

Seth used to think like I did. And part of me was devastated that he didn't anymore. Because I was going to get past this, my story didn't begin and end with Seth. But Seth, he wasn't going to go to Brown. He wasn't going to travel. He wasn't going to do any of those things he'd wanted to do. Instead, he was going to live his whole life, catering to, following, loving one person more than anyone else.

That wasn't beautiful or romantic, it was a tragedy.

And I'd let it happen.

I slammed the door shut and squared my shoulders. It was time to remember what was important and it wasn't going to happen here in the hallway, moping about a boy who'd never feel the same way about me again.

It was time to heal the best way I knew how. I was going to paint.


It had been too long since I'd held a paintbrush in my fingers. The thin cylinder of wood felt startling, like coming home after a long journey. I let out a soft sigh of happiness as I swirled the bristles in water, softening them.

I had set up my easel near the small stream at the base of our house. The sun had set almost thirty minutes ago and the night was in full bloom. The moon was at crescent, casting a milking glow over the quietly flowing stream.

I was painting a landscape today. I'd stopped at the store on my way home from school and gifted myself a new set of wood colored oils and there was this one murky brown that I'd been dying to try out.

I'd left the chocolate brown, the one that was too warm, too close to the color of Seth's when he was impassioned at home, on my desk. I didn't want to tempt myself into painting anyone that wasn't there.

I'd just lifted my paintbrush to highlight the bark of a particularly colorful tree when I felt a slight breeze shake loose some of my hair. It was sweet, and icy cold.

Alice.

"I did it." I said. Quiet and solemn.

She spun in front of me, smiling and sorrowful all at once. "Thank you."

"Sure." There was a breath as I tried to keep composure.

"Cassie, now all you have to do-"

"Alice?" I interrupted, wincing at how rude it was. "Sorry-but maybe just for tonight we can just cool it with this plan of yours? The last step was kind of a doozy. I think I need a breather."

She bowed her head and then her back artfully and I almost cried at how elegant and cultured it was. A thousand dancers could have spent a thousand years practicing and never have achieved the fluidity in her immortal bones. "Of course. I'm sorry." She leaned forward then, her face slightly ashamed. "It was a great thing you did. A reprieve is perfectly reasonable." Taking a few steps backwards, she danced through the grass but then I couldn't bare her to leave, to be alone felt so terrible suddenly.

"Alice?"

She tilted her head to the side. "Yes, Cassie?"

"Could you-I mean would it be alright if you stayed?" I glanced randomly to my painting and smiled. "I could use a focal point."

She smiled her mysterious little smile and nodded. "Of course, perhaps even a few pointers?"

I scoffed at that. "Listen, vampy. If we're going to be friends, you stick to the crystal balls and I'll stick to the painting okay?"

She smirked, "I don't need a crystal ball." And then dipped into the most delicate pirouette I'd ever seen. And I'd been to my share of ballets. And then she looked at me surprisingly sweetly. "I'd like that-being friends."

I smiled back as I picked out a new Pearl grey and Darling blue that I'd gotten. They'd perfectly match the silk dress she was wearing. "Me too." And then with a sort of self-deprecating chuckle, "I'm sort of in the market for some anyway."

Alice spun closer and then her arctic grip was on my arm for just the smallest of seconds before she was back in clearing, poised perfectly on the rock as if she was about to leap into the stream. The words she whispered in my ear would stay with me for far longer.

"Look no farther, Cassie, I'm right here."