Something (All the Things Book 1) Read online

  Something

  All the Things: part one

  K. A. Last

  www.kalastbooks.com.au

  Copyright © 2018 K. A. Last

  All rights reserved.

  First published in Australia 2018 by K. A. Last

  Contents

  Dedication

  The damage is already done

  You never know unless you try

  My answer is yes

  That bitch will never see you coming

  The bed can be Switzerland if you like

  Bring it, bitch

  Now it’s my turn

  As it falls back into place

  Why is it so hard in the first place?

  The fairy-tale ending I’ve always wanted

  What will I be getting myself into?

  Who I am

  So heartbreaking

  Author’s note and acknowledgements

  About the author

  Also by K. A. Last

  Copyright

  Dedication

  For my sixteen-year-old self. If only I knew then what I know now.

  The damage is already done

  The words on the page in front of me blur, and I drop my pen onto my desk. It rolls off and lands on the carpet beside my foot. With a sigh, I swivel in my chair. I stare at the pen for a moment before bending to pick it up.

  Study is the last thing I want to be doing on a Saturday night, but term three starts on Monday and trial HSC exams are in two weeks. I worked hard to earn my scholarship, and I don’t want to disappoint Mum and Dad. They have big dreams of me becoming a lawyer or a doctor. I have to keep my grades up.

  I roll the pen between my fingers and turn back to my history text, blinking a few times. Outside, a car door slams and a voice yells something, but I don’t catch the words. I glance up at the clock. It’s almost eleven-thirty pm. No wonder my eyes are blurry.

  Usually when I hear a car outside I go to the window to see if it’s Levi White. But tonight, I need to get through thirty more pages on Egypt and the pyramids.

  Something crashes. I jump.

  I put my pen down and go to my window anyway, glancing out to our front yard below.

  Next door, the veranda light shines brightly into the darkness. Levi sits on the wooden boards, his feet hanging over the top step, staring at a pot plant lying broken on his front path.

  I bite my lip. Levi’s mum, Yvonne, is not going to be happy.

  The front door opens, and Levi’s mum comes out, pulling her dressing gown tight around herself. She says something to him, but I can’t make out the words.

  I unlatch the lock on my window and slide the bottom sash up.

  Yvonne speaks again, and this time I hear her. “Did you drive home?”

  Levi’s car is in the driveway, but it wasn’t there half an hour ago. I’d checked.

  “No, Mum … Jarred …” Levi trails off. He’s still sitting on the veranda, his upper body swaying from side to side.

  “He better not have been drinking. You know—”

  “He wasn’t,” Levi says. “I’m not stupid, Mum.”

  Yvonne glances up at my window. Shit! My heart beats faster. I dart backwards.

  I don’t want her to know I’m watching them. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want me to ogle her son and the mess he’s made. Or hear their conversation about drink driving.

  If Levi has been drinking, how can he do this to her? His brother only died a year ago, killed in a car accident when he got behind the wheel drunk.

  I miss him.

  He was like an older brother to me, sometimes better than my own.

  Mason would never have turned his back on me like his brother has. Ever since I landed that scholarship, Levi has been different. On my first day at his preppy private school, he pretended not to know who I was. It’s like I’m his dirty little secret that no one can ever discover.

  I move back to the window and pull the curtains closed, leaving a small gap in the middle so I can see what’s happening.

  Levi gets to his feet and turns away from his mum. His foot slips, and he tumbles down the stairs. He lands in the mess of the pot plant, sprawling onto the path and face-planting the concrete. I wince.

  Yvonne shakes her head and swipes at her cheek. She makes her way down the steps to Levi, her mouth moving in a low whisper. She crouches and tries to help him up, but he shoves her hands away.

  “You’re bleeding,” she says. “Come inside.”

  “Leave me alone!” Levi shouts.

  I suck in a sharp breath and hold it, glancing around, expecting someone in our quiet street to react to Levi’s loud yell. But most of the houses are dark. They stay that way, and no one comes outside.

  Levi glares at his mum. Blood runs from a cut on his cheekbone.

  Yvonne stands. “I’ll leave the door unlocked,” she says before going inside.

  I grip the edge of the curtains and stare down at Levi. What’s happened to him? His gaze flicks towards me, and I quickly step back, my heart racing again.

  I stand in the middle of my room and twist my fingers together. I shouldn’t be spying on him. He’s drunk and injured, so I should help him, but he didn’t want his mum’s assistance, so why would I be any different? Besides, it’s not like he’s been nice to me the past couple of years.

  A car door slams, and when I go back to the window, Levi is sitting on the lawn with his knees up and his head hanging between them. His fingers grip the neck of a bottle of bourbon. He raises his head and stares at my window, then brings the bottle to his lips and takes a swig. I should step back again, but I can’t. My gaze is glued to Levi’s face.

  The pain in his eyes sears its way through my heart.

  What happened to the boy I have loved my entire life?

  How did he become so broken?

  He shakes his head and looks away, then flops back onto the grass.

  I want to go and see if he’s okay.

  But I don’t.

  I back away from the window and sit at my desk, my history book open where I left off. I try to concentrate on studying, but ten minutes pass and my thoughts keep returning to Levi. I can’t stop glancing at the window and wondering if I should go downstairs and see if he’s okay.

  “Katie, are you still studying?” Mum’s voice makes me jump, and I drop my pen on the desk.

  “You scared me,” I say.

  “Everything all right?” She leans against my open door and crosses her arms.

  I shrug. “Levi’s out on the lawn. He’s drunk.”

  Mum frowns. “I heard the yelling.” She goes to my window and peeks through the gap in the curtains. “Maybe you should go and see if he’s okay.”

  “It’s late, Mum.”

  “Yeah, but it’s Saturday night.” She glances at my clock and smiles. “Tomorrow is the last day of the holidays, and you have a bit over an hour before curfew.”

  “He’s a big boy, Mum. I’m sure he’ll be fine.” I tap my pen on my desk.

  Mum sighs. “He might need a friend to talk to, Katie. See you in the morning.” She pulls my door closed, and I listen to her pad down the hallway to her bedroom.

  I take my glasses off and rub my eyes. Maybe Levi does need a friend, but that friend isn’t me. With a deep breath, I push my glasses back up my nose and return to the window, pulling the curtains aside.

  Levi hasn’t moved from his position on the lawn. His gaze locks with mine as if he’s been expecting me to come back. He gets to his feet and staggers a couple of steps to his veranda, avoiding the smashed flower pot. I raise my hand and give him a half-hearted wave and a close-lipped smile. He scoffs and shakes his head, and I regret even looking at him. He puts
a foot on the first step and clutches the railing.

  I turn away from the window, go to my desk, and close my text book. I think I’m done for tonight. Levi’s reaction has gotten under my skin, but I told myself a long time ago that there are worse things in life than people laughing at me.

  My eyes are heavy, so I take my glasses off and set them on my desk. I flick my overhead light off and get changed into my PJs by the light of the reading lamp attached to my bedhead. The covers are cool when I slip between them. I lie back and stare at my ceiling, counting the stars my brother, Daniel, and I stuck up there when we were kids. They’ve been there so long they don’t glow much anymore. I want them to glow again. Maybe I’ll replace them.

  I reach up to turn off the lamp when something taps on my window. The curtains move, and Levi sticks his head through the open section at the bottom, a frown on his face.

  I scramble to sit up and grab my glasses, putting them on.

  Oh God, I’m in my PJs. I grip the edge of the covers and pull them up to my chest.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I ask in a whisper.

  He mutters something I can’t make out, then he tumbles through and lands in a heap on the window seat before falling to the floor. My journal lands beside him with a thud.

  Levi pushes himself up and sits with his back resting against the wall. His head lolls onto the seat cushion.

  I have no words.

  Levi White just climbed in my window.

  He hasn’t done that since the middle of tenth grade, when he found out about my scholarship.

  Levi raises his head and studies me. “Stop opening and closing your mouth, Katie. You look like a fish.”

  I finally find my voice. “I … what … how did you not fall and kill yourself?”

  He gets to his feet then plonks down on the end of my bed, almost falling off.

  “I haven’t forgotten how to climb—”

  “What do you want?” I keep my voice low.

  “You waved. I came.” He smiles.

  “I was trying to offer you a little support,” I say. “Not asking you to scale the side of my house and fall through my window.”

  “Your trellis is still pretty sturdy … even after all this time.”

  I scoff. “I remember the last time you climbed it.” My heart lurches at the memory.

  “So do I,” he says.

  Levi’s eyelids are droopy, and he closes his eyes for a second. I take the opportunity to stare at his face. Despite how he’s treated me, he’s still the boy next door who I fell in love with in kindergarten. And I’m secretly glad he’s climbed into my room. Maybe …

  I shake my head, refusing to entertain something that’s impossible.

  “That looks nasty.” I point to the bloody cut on his left cheek.

  “It didn’t tickle,” Levi says. “My hand hurts, too.” He frowns and looks down to where his right hand rests on his leg.

  “Wait here.” I throw the covers aside and go to my door.

  Levi smiles a lopsided, drunken smile. “Nice PJs.”

  I roll my eyes and inch the door open, escaping into the hallway, thankful Levi can’t see me blush. Having him see me in baby pink flannel pants covered with little white sheep is embarrassing.

  Dad’s soft snores float down the hallway. Daniel is out, but I check the hall anyway, then go to the bathroom to grab a wet face washer and some Dettol.

  Back in my room, Levi is lying on his side on my bed with his head propped up on his elbow.

  “Are you going to tend to my wounds?” His smile widens.

  Levi is muscular and gorgeous, and I want to do more than tend his wounds, but I’m not about to tell him that—especially while he’s being an idiot.

  “Don’t be a jerk.” I perch on the edge of the bed, pouring some Dettol onto the face washer. “Sit up.”

  Levi shuffles behind me and drops his legs over the side of the mattress, moving until he’s beside me. I dab his cheek with the wet cloth.

  “Ouch!” Levi’s smile falls away, and he winces.

  “You really should ice it … to stop any swelling.”

  Levi grabs my hand and pulls it gently away from his face. “Why are you so nice to me?”

  “I try to be nice to everyone.”

  “You shouldn’t.”

  I stare at his hand holding mine, and I want him to be holding me in other ways, but it’s never going to happen. Outside this room we can’t be friends. Not anymore.

  “What’s the point in being mean to people?” I say. “It only makes you unhappy.”

  “Some people deserve it.”

  “That’s true.”

  Levi’s grip on my wrist tightens. “Katie …”

  I stare into his deep brown eyes. “Levi.” I hold my breath.

  He tears his gaze away from mine and looks at his fingers wrapped around my wrist. “Don’t tell anyone about this.” He lets go, and my skin is cold where he’s been touching me.

  “Don’t tell anyone about your drunken fall down your front steps, or don’t tell anyone you climbed in my window?”

  “Both,” he says.

  I lick my lips and chew on the bottom one. “Who would I tell?”

  I take his injured hand and look at his palm. There are some cuts on it, so I swab them with Dettol as well. He winces again.

  “Don’t be such a baby,” I say, but I stop anyway.

  We sit in silence. I fold the face washer and rest it on the edge of my desk.

  “Your mum seemed upset,” I say to try and break the tension in the air.

  “She’s always upset.”

  “Why? Because of … Mason?”

  Levi scoots around me and flops back onto my pillow. “I’m not having this conversation with you. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Then why are you here?” I ask. Right now, I’m not sure if I’m mad because he won’t talk to me, or happy because he climbed in my window in the first place.

  “I have no idea, Katie.” He rolls his head to the side and closes his eyes.

  “Well, it couldn’t be because we’re friends, now, could it?”

  Levi opens his eyes but doesn’t move. I blink a few times then look away, pushing my glasses up my nose.

  “I miss you,” Levi says. The words were whispered, but they were there.

  I want to tell him I miss him, too. But do I really want to open old wounds?

  I press my lips together. “Why are you drowning your sorrows in a bottle of bourbon?” I ask instead. “Drinking isn’t the answer to anything, Levi. You, of all people—”

  “Should know that? Yeah. I should. But you don’t …” He puts a hand over his face and lets out a long breath. “You have no idea.”

  There are a lot of things I could say to him, like alcohol makes it worse, or you’re not the only one with problems. But how could I say anything like that when I really don’t know what he’s going through right now? As much as I loved Mason like a brother, I’ve never lost a real family member.

  Besides, I have my own problems without having to worry about Levi’s. He’s the type of guy who’s had everything handed to him. I have to work for everything I get, and being considered trash in a private school is pretty lonely. Mr Popularity, Levi White, is the last person who would ever understand loneliness.

  Levi picks up one of the stuffed teddies on my bed and stares at it for a minute before handing it to me. I hug it to my chest. He sits, and shuffles back against the bedhead.

  “You still like that kind of shit?” he asks.

  I stare at the white bunny in my hands. It has big floppy ears and a pink tummy, and it’s my favourite. I nod but don’t say anything, putting it back with the others and going to sit at my desk.

  Levi scoots to the edge of the bed and clumsily puts his feet on the floor. He grabs the book from my desk.

  “History,” he says.

  “You should be studying, too.” I pick up my pen and glance at my clock. It’s well past
midnight.

  He laughs and puts the book back, then rubs his temples. “Study isn’t really my thing.”

  “What is?” I put my pen down and swivel my chair to face him. I may have known Levi my whole life, and we may have been best friends once, but now, I don’t really know him anymore.

  Levi shrugs. “I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.” He grins.

  I ignore his stupid comment. “What are you good at? There must be something, other than everyone loving you.”

  Levi runs a hand through his mess of dark brown hair. I want to reach out and run my fingers through it, too. The thought makes me almost laugh out loud, and a blush heats my cheeks. As if I would ever be the one who got to do something like that.

  “I don’t know. Maybe … science. Or marine biology.” He goes quiet and stares at his hands. “It’s stupid. I’m not smart enough.”

  “I could help you study … if you like.” I hold my breath, hoping he’ll say yes because it will be an excuse to spend time with him.

  Levi looks up. “I probably won’t remember this conversation tomorrow.”

  I scoff, and suddenly, I’m mad. As if we could ever be friends again. It’s obvious he’s looking for an out. Well, if that’s what he wants, I’ll give it to him. “If you really want help with your homework, you’ll remember. The window’s that way.” I point, before swivelling to face my desk.

  “Do you want me to leave?”

  “That would be good.” I stare at my closed history book.

  “Are you angry with me?”

  I look up. “No, Levi. I’m not angry with you. Being angry is something a friend would do when their other friend behaved like an arse.”

  “You think I’m an arse?”

  “Yes … a drunk one.”

  “Why?”

  “Gee, I don’t know.” I stand and my chair spins. “Maybe because this is the first time we’ve had a real conversation in two years, and you want me to not tell anyone. And I get it. You’re the popular rich guy, and I’m the scholarship girl who’s poor and worth shit. You don’t want to be associated with me.”

  “That’s not true.”