When Tomorrow Starts Without me Page 11

  It's fun and kind of addicting. I can see why everyone loves all the social apps.

  Cove goes back to her phone, grinning. "Now we all have the same profile. I love it!"

  Tiana finally relaxes, then we all like and comment on each other's profile pictures.

  It feels unreal. I'm hanging out with friends, using my phone, connecting online. While the others giggle over a meme, a sadness washes over me. If I'd had access to all this when I was in school, I might have actually enjoyed my time there. Maybe had some friends. Not been a total loser.

  Yeah, I'd still have been the girl with outdated clothes that didn't fit right, but at least I also wouldn't have had the no-online-presence thing hanging over my neck like a social guillotine.

  The lights dim, and the band takes their places.

  Cove scoots over to me and takes my phone. "Now you have to join the other ones."

  She downloads so many new apps it makes my head spin. I stare in disbelief. "Right now?"

  "Well, soon." She nudges me with her shoulder. "I want everyone to know we're friends!"

  I grab my phone and choose the most colorful icon. Cove tells me all about it as I create my account. I'm practically a pro at this now.

  Poppy scoots over. "Oh, you're joining more?"

  I nod as I accept terms I don't bother to read.

  Cove sighs dramatically. "Rogan's looking at you."

  "He is?" I glance up, and he gives me a mind-melting grin. I smile back, my heart fluttering.

  How can he have such an effect on me?

  Poppy clutches her heart after Rogan turns his attention back to Flaming Combustion. "I wish someone would look at me the way Rogan looks at you."

  "Right?" Cove stares at him.

  My face warms again, but this time for all the right reasons.

  The first song starts, and it's one of Rogan's new ones. He's been practicing it all day. When I stepped into the hall after waking, the tune sounded from his music room.

  I stick the phone in my purse and hum along. Poppy excuses herself, and Tiana scoots closer. "Did he write this song about you?"

  Did he? I shrug. "It's one of his new ones."

  "Obviously. That's why I'm asking." She sounds annoyed.

  "Did I do something to you?"

  Her eyes widen. "What do you mean?"

  "Oh, come on." Cove rolls her eyes. "We can all feel you freezing her out."

  Tiana's expression tightens. "I don't get why you're not online. Like, at all. That's just not normal."

  "I've been focused on school."

  She gives me a sideways glance. "Even all the biggest nerds I know have all these accounts. Every last one of them."

  "Well, not me. But that's changing."

  "Would you stop looking at her like that?" Cove snaps.

  "You have to admit it's weird." Tiana turns to me. "What are you hiding?"

  "Nothing! My parents didn't have a phone or anything, okay? I was sheltered like you wouldn't believe. Happy?"

  Her expression softens, but not by much. "You never signed up for anything behind their backs? Not once?"

  My dad's balled fists and furious eyes pop into mind. I shake my head. "My brother would've found out and told them."

  "In other words, he's on all the sites?"

  "Yeah."

  "They let him, but not you?" Tiana's brows knit together.

  "Right."

  "Stop giving her the fifth degree and enjoy the song." Cove sighs even more dramatically than before. "The lyrics are unbelievably romantic."

  "You mean the third degree?" Tiana plays with her spiky hair.

  "Whatever. What's with you tonight, Ti?"

  Tiana glances at me, then back to Cove. "Nothing."

  Poppy comes back, balancing four drinks. "I told the bartender we're twenty-one, and he didn't even ask for my ID!"

  "Oh!" Cove's eyes light up. "What'd you get?"

  "I told him to surprise me." She sits and hands out the glasses.

  Cove holds hers up. "To the band!"

  "The band." We all hold up our glasses and clink them together. Tiana even smiles at me a little.

  I return the smile and stare at my drink. I'd sworn I would never go near alcohol for fear of the alcoholic gene being passed down.

  But now I know I'm adopted. Except that I'm still Dad's distant relative. Distant enough that I might not be genetically predisposed?

  Poppy elbows me.

  I bring the glass to my mouth and drink. The strength of it surprises me, but I like the sour, fruity taste.

  Once the glass is empty, I don't care at all about Tiana's attitude toward me. I don't care about my parents or Theo or anyone from school.

  I raise my glass. "To Tiana."

  She laughs. "There's nothing in there."

  "I know!" I raise it higher. "To Tiana."

  Cove raises her empty glass. "To Kenna."

  Poppy lifts hers. "To all of us!"

  "To us." Tiana joins us as we toast with empty glasses, and we all burst into a fit of laughter.

  Kenna

  I snuggle against Rogan. There's nothing like being in his arms. He's the only guy who's ever touched me without disgusting me or scaring me, or both. With him, I feel safe. Protected.

  And I want it to last forever. I keep waiting to wake up and find myself back at home, only to discover all of this has been one long too-good-to-be-true dream. If that's the case, I hope I never wake.

  Maybe that train really did hit me, but rather than going to Heaven, I'm in a coma. That seriously makes more sense than any of this being real.

  The only thing that gives me any hint to Rogan's affection being real are the distrusting glances Tiana throws my way every so often. Well, that and my run-ins with my family. My fake family.

  I sigh.

  "You okay?" Rogan squeezes my arm with a gentleness that makes me want to melt into a puddle against him.

  "Yeah. Just thinking."

  "Shh!" Tiana glares at me from Lathe's lap. "Some of us are trying to watch the movie."

  "Sorry." I lean my head against Rogan's chest, and my mind goes right back to my family. As much as I want them to be my fake family, they aren't. The adoption makes everything as real as if I'd been born to them, or at least Dad. I could probably get away with thinking of Liz and Theo as fake family, except that Liz is married to my Dad.

  Really, it probably doesn't matter since I'm never going to see any of them ever again. Real, fake, or whatever they are, now they're dead to me. They've never done anything to help or protect me.

  True family doesn't force you to live an existence of fear and dread. They've never been there for me, never thought about what's best for me, never stood up for me or protected me.

  Rogan and his family are more of a family to me than the people legally responsible for me all these years.

  My mind races. I hate that I can't stop thinking about those people. I've walked away, never to return again, yet they still rule my thoughts.

  Can I ever truly get away from them? Or will they always be with me because they raised me? Will new memories and new relationships eventually push them out of my life as if I'd never even met them?

  Everyone bursts out laughing, and I realize I haven't been paying attention to the movie at all. I try to focus, but it's pointless. The movie's at least halfway through, and I can't figure out what's going on. There's some kind of a love triangle and talk of a zombie virus taking over a nearby town.

  I close my eyes and focus on Rogan's heartbeat. It lulls me to sleep, which I gladly accept.

  He laughs again, waking me.

  "How can she sleep? This is the best movie all year." That sounds like Tiana.

  I groan inwardly and debate opening my eyes. I'm really getting tired of her not trusting me. What did I ever do to her?

  "I thought you wanted to pay attention to the movie." Rogan's voice vibrates against me. He runs his hands over my hair.

  That settles it. I keep my eyes
closed. I don't ever want him to stop touching my hair.

  Everyone stops talking, and explosions sound from the speakers around the room. One of the girls shrieks. A couple guys laugh. I just enjoy the safety that Rogan's embrace provides. His warmth. The comforting sounds of his heart.

  This isn't a coma, it is Heaven.

  No, it's actually happening on Earth. I need to stop thinking like I have been. The train didn't hit me. Rogan actually saved my life. He actually cares about me. He has actually brought me into his world, inviting me to be a part of his family and his circle of friends.

  Things are turning around for me. I don't know what next year holds, but it doesn't matter. If everything falls apart at some point, I'll deal with it then. For now, I'm just going to accept it and enjoy every moment.

  Rogan stops running his hand over my hair. His hand slides to my shoulder, then down to my elbow, and finally my wrist. His fingers hover over my waist.

  My heart races. Fear pulsates through me. I can't breathe.

  Move your hand. Move it, please.

  It continues hovering.

  This is too much. My heart is about to explode from my chest. If Rogan's hand slides down and actually touches my waist, I can't help how I react.

  Theo's face appears before my closed eyes. His beady eyes stare at me, lusting. Reaching for my pants. To once again take what isn't his.

  Fingers brush against my waist.

  I don't know if they're real or a memory, but I jump up and run from the room. My heart is going to give out. My pulse drums in my ears, blocking out any sounds. I gasp for air.

  I stop at a closed door. Do I go through it or turn down the hall? I don't know where I am. The walls are closing in on me.

  Theo's in jail, but he's right here.

  "Kenna!"

  He's really here. He must've posted bail.

  I turn around, arms swinging. I punch him in the chest. I won't stop until he's on the ground, motionless. He needs to die.

  "Kenna, it's me!" The voice doesn't belong to Theo.

  Fingers grasp my arms, but not tight enough to hurt.

  I focus on his face. It's not Theo.

  Rogan stands inches from me, his expression anguished. Theo's nowhere in sight. It's Rogan.

  "What happened?" He pulls me close.

  I squirm to get away, but his firm hold doesn't relinquish its grip. I try to hit him, but finally fall limp and accept his protection.

  "Are you okay?" He kisses the top of my head.

  Realization hits me. I've just struck out at the one person who doesn't deserve it. "I'm so sorry."

  Rogan steps back and stares into my eyes, holding my shoulders. "I don't want an apology. I want to know if you're okay. What did I do wrong?"

  My stomach squeezes and threatens to expunge everything I've eaten all day.

  "Kenna?"

  I take a deep breath and focus on his eyes.

  "What did I do wrong? Tell me so I can make sure not to do it again. I fell asleep, and I don't know what happened."

  He didn't mean to touch my waist. It had been an accident.

  "Your hand… it was on my… my…" I sound so stupid. Who freaks out over something so insignificant? Any normal person wouldn't care.

  "What? Whatever it was, I didn't mean it." His eyes plead with me. "I fell asleep. Whatever I touched, I didn't mean to. Do you believe me?"

  I nod slowly.

  Rogan breathes a sigh of relief and runs a hand through his hair. "I swear it was an accident, Kenna. I would never… Not with knowing what you've been through." He takes my hand and traces shapes over my palm.

  "I know. I just—it takes nothing to bring back painful memories."

  "And I never want to be the person who does that. Ever. You know that, right?"

  His concern is going to crush me. I don't know how to respond to such kindness.

  "Do you want to go back and watch the movie? Or we can go home? Seems like we're both pretty tired."

  "Is it okay if we go? You don't mind?"

  "It was my idea. Of course I don't mind." He pulls me into his embrace.

  I close my eyes and let it swallow me whole. It tears me apart that the same hands which provide security also wreak such havoc on me. It's not Rogan's fault.

  I'm broken. Possibly beyond fixing.

  Rogan

  The next several weeks go by in a blur of activity. Most of my time is spent practicing, either at home by myself or with an audience of one—Kenna. As the time goes by, we settle into comfortable routines. In a way, it's like Kenna has always been in my life.

  As much as I love performing on stage, it doesn't hold a candle to sitting on the floor singing for the one I wrote the songs about. Even the ones composed before I knew Kenna had somehow been written about her too. I just hadn't known it at the time.

  Though we don't talk a whole lot, sitting together draws us closer. We have a connection that goes beyond speaking. It's something I can't explain but can feel in a place so deep in my soul that I never knew existed before she came into my life.

  I set my guitar down and take in her beauty. I swear, she grows more gorgeous every day. If she keeps this up, I don't know what I'll do with myself.

  The only thing that keeps me from kissing her until neither of us can breathe is the fact that she needs space. After accidentally brushing her waist that one night, I'm especially careful about touching her.

  Kenna always relaxes in my arms, so I hold her as much as possible. She also doesn't seem to mind when I kiss the top of her head, so I sneak those in as often as I can.

  "Have you picked which agent you want yet?"

  Her question startles me for some reason. Everything about her elicits an over-the-top reaction from me. "No. The guys and I are going to discuss it at this afternoon's practice. We need to make a decision before the agents get tired of waiting for us to decide."

  "Ellis and Lathe still can't agree?"

  I shake my head. "Ashton's happy either way, but the other two refuse to budge."

  "But you're the leader, right? Can't you just decide?"

  I draw in a deep breath. "Sure, I could, but I'd rather we all agree. No matter who I pick, one of them is going to be pissed at me."

  "What about that third agent?" Kenna arches a brow.

  I get lost in her eyes. I'm overcome by my need for her.

  "Rogan?"

  I shake my head. "What did you say?"

  She smiles and says something.

  What I wouldn't give to cover those lips with mine. I cup her chin.

  Stupid. Now I want to kiss her even more. I want to press her against the wall behind her, cover her lips with mine, and show her just how much I crave her.

  Since I can't, I let go of her chin and step back, taking a deep breath. This is so hard, but it's too soon for her. I'll wait as long as she needs, but it might just do me in.

  "What are you thinking about?" she asks.

  My mind races as I struggle to think of something to say. I can't tell her how much I desire her. It would scare her off, so I fib. "I'm thinking about the band."

  Kenna frowns. "I don't think Tiana likes me very much."

  "What makes you think that?"

  "Just a feeling I get."

  "I'm sure you're wrong. What's not to like?"

  "I'm glad you think so highly of me, but not everyone feels the same way you do."

  "Don't worry about her. She's probably just jealous."

  "Jealous? Of what?"

  I draw in a deep breath. I've seen the way Tiana unashamedly undresses me with her eyes, and I've never given her reason to encourage her. Never will. But that doesn't change the fact that she would drop Lathe in a heartbeat if I paid her any attention.

  "Rogan?" Kenna's sweet voice brings me back to the present.

  I gaze into her alluring eyes, wanting to taste her mouth. To show her that kisses and caresses can be full of love, not cruelty. I take a deep breath and focus on her question. "Why w
ouldn't Tiana be jealous of you? You're beautiful and perfect."

  One side of her mouth curves down. She doesn't believe me.

  I'm going to have to work on that. Kenna needs to know how amazing she is before I allow myself to take our relationship further.

  She stays quiet, so I talk about band stuff to keep my mind off her luscious lips. Maybe I'll take a cold shower. I could sure use one.

  The house is quiet, not that it's surprising at this hour. It's well into the morning. I turn to Kenna. "Do you want to go to sleep? You must be tired."

  She sighs. "I wish."

  "You're not?"

  "My mind is racing."

  "What about?"

  She leans against the wall and stares at the floor. "A lot of things. My family, mostly."

  "Don't think about them. They suck."

  Kenna smiles. "I couldn't agree more. But I mean my parents—my real ones. I don't know anything about them."

  "Is there a way you can find out? Go to the courthouse, maybe?"

  She shrugs. "I have no idea. Maybe. I should probably try online now that I have access."

  "Let me know how I can help."

  "Thanks, but I'll do this on my own."

  "I want to help, unless this is something you need to do on your own. But if you need a ride or anything, I'm your man."

  Kenna twists some hair around her finger. "I don't even know where to begin. There are questions I want to ask my dad, but I can't go back there. Not that he'd tell me what I want to know, anyway."

  "I'll go with you. He wouldn't dare try anything with me there."

  She smiles, but her eyes are sad. "Thanks, but like I said, I won't get any information out of him. He made that pretty clear when I went over there. Plus, now they hate me because Theo's in jail."

  Anger churns in my gut. "It's him they should hate."

  Kenna's quiet a few moments before speaking. "You know, I'm actually not in the mood to look anything up. Mind if we watch something? Or is it too late?"

  "No way. That's why they invented coffee, right?" I put my arm around her, and we meander down the hall. "Do you want to watch TV in the family room or see a movie in the theater?"

  "The family room sounds nice." She yawns.