If We Found Heaven ✓

twenty-six ✩

It was, Cass thought to herself with conviction, definitely Sullivan's fault that Cass was trapped in a house with two horny teenage boys who happened to be gay for each other. She was slightly annoyed. Okay, more than slightly annoyed. Very, very annoyed. At least she had exiled Art and Reid to the balcony. Anyways, it was, Cass had always said, difficult to get annoyed with Sullivan. However, this situation called for it.

Sullivan and Cass had planned to meet at the diner for a casual-date lunch. And while Cass had been stood up before, it was different when it was your best friend. And it was different when said best friend was the one who had suggested the date in the first place.

Sullivan had forgotten about Cass plenty of times in the past - had forgotten about trips to the mall and parties that they had been invited to - but this time hurt worse. This time, Sullivan had not only forgotten Cass, but had also forgotten their date. It was like she had forgotten about whatever this wonderful, beautiful new thing between them was. Perhaps that thing was a wall. Perhaps Cass was just hormonal.

She pinched out her cigarette and sat, legs folded under her, in the corner of the couch. Cass was aware that she probably looked awful in her hoodie and sweatpants, with bags under her eyes and ash smeared over her fingertips, but she couldn't bring herself to care through the haze of anger and overwhelming pain.

She remembered the first day she had seen Sullivan more sharply, more clearly than she remembered any other day of her life. It had been autumn, the first falling leaves signifying the start of a fresh school year. The two of them hadn't been well-liked even then. Between Cass's snark and willingness to throw a punch and Sullivan's boyish outfits and then-buzzed hair, it was obvious that they were different from the rest of their classmates.

They had formed, at first, a wary alliance. Occasionally, they would trade lunches or play on the playground together. That had morphed into Sullivan's constant tune-humming as they sat at picnic benches in the summertime sipping glasses of Cass's mother's lemonade. That summer, they had met Art. From then on, they did everything as a trio.

They suffered through unrequited crushes and parental scoldings and made grand plans for running away together and settling down somewhere far away from Hemley. Art's obsession with clocks began to develop, Sullivan learned how to play the piano, and Cass's schemes got more and more complex.

Even so, Cass had always felt a little left out. Art and Sullivan knew what they wanted to do and who they wanted to be, and no matter how unrealistic their goals were, at least they had some. All Cass had were plans to replace the trophies that sat on a shelf in the town hall with a number of brightly colored dildos. Cass smiled fondly at the memory now. The mayor had been furious.

She grabbed the remote and switched on the TV. An episode of General Hospital was playing this afternoon. Cass rose after a while, stretching, and padded over to the kitchen to get something to eat. She grabbed a plate of macaroons. The balcony doors were cracked slightly open to let a breeze through, and Cass walked over to them, peering out.

"Well hello there," Cass said, raising her eyebrows at Art and Reid, whose lips happened to be locked in a kiss.

Reid pulled back, blushing, eyes wide as saucers. Art was smirking slightly. "Um... Sorry," Reid said, clearing his throat with all the awkwardness of a teenager who was watching a sex scene in a movie with his parents.

"As long as you don't do the dirty on my balcony, it's fine," Cass replied, waving him off.

"No promises," Art joked. Reid elbowed him hard in the side, and Arthur doubled over. "Ow! What the hell?!"

"Shut up," Reid hissed, not taking his eyes off of Cass. His face was very, very red. Cass found this whole situation quite hilarious. "I'm gonna... go to the bathroom," said Reid. Cass nodded, stepping aside to let him pass.

She stood there, watching Art, for a few moments. He was rubbing at his side, an expression that was equal parts frustration and amusement on his face. "You're going a little fast, aren't you?" she asked after a beat.

Art glanced up at her. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you took ages to kiss Rex even once. Here you are, a month after we befriended Reid," Cass ignored Art's frown at the lack of nickname, "making out with him on my balcony."

Art scowled, running a hand through his hair with a vague air of annoyance. "Does it matter? I've evolved since Rex. I don't take years to make a move on someone anymore."

"It feels like you're using him," Cass said. There was an accusatory note in her voice.

Art's expression darkened. "Are you shitting me right now? How awful a person do you think I am?"

Cass eyed him warily. "I'm just saying."

"Just 'cause your date stood you up doesn't give you the right to be an asshole to everyone," Art snapped.

"I'm the asshole?!" Cass exclaimed. "I'm trying to make sure nobody gets hurt!"

"Well that's pretty fucking ironic," Art sneered, "since you're the one of us who hurts people the most."

The words sent Cass into a stunned silence. "What?" she managed after a moment.

"Sullivan might coddle you and spare your feelings from being hurt," Art replied, "but I refuse to." He crossed his arms over his chest and spat, "You're a hypocrite, Cass."

"I don't hurt people," Cass said quietly.

"Yes you do," said Art. "You hurt Sullivan, you hurt me, you even hurt yourself. And you don't even know it!" He released a disbelieving laugh. "You don't even realize it."

The words sank into Cass's skin like barbs. She and Arthur had exchanged harsh words, even blows sometimes, but nothing had cut quite as painfully as this did. "I was just saying that you were going too fast."

"Well do me a favor and keep your opinions about my love life to yourself in the future," Art said, pushing past her.

A blinding rage filled her. She had just been trying to help. "Everyone you ever love will be too good for you," Cass said, pointing at him, her voice shaking with pent up anger and overwhelming pain.

Art spared her a sympathetic smile. "That's one thing we have in common."

Reid came out of the bathroom, walking towards them. Reid's eyes caught on Art, who was halfway to the door, and Cass, who was still pointing at him. Art stormed out of the house. Reid lingered for a moment, glancing between the open door and the tears streaming freely down Cass's cheeks. At last, he left.

Because they all left, even when Cass didn't want them to. Because Cass refused to beg the way she had begged that night when she had brought a girl home and her mother had looked upon them with scorn. Cass was fine with letting people go. She was good at it. Sometimes, she felt herself slipping away too. It would be nice, though, if someone would stay. If someone would tell her that she was worth fighting for. If someone could see the dark well of hurt inside her and tell her that it was beautiful.

She wanted to be held. She wanted to be loved. She wanted to know herself. She didn't know what she wanted. She wanted this agony, this bleeding out of the soul, to end. Because where would she go if she died? Certainly not heaven. You and I weren't made for places like heaven. That's what her first love had said to her. That's why we have to stick together. But she had left. Perhaps because burning in hell alone was better than struggling to stay afloat with Cass.

People were always leaving. Leaving this godforsaken town, leaving this godforsaken earth. Cass wanted to leave too. And yet dark hair, red hair, hazel eyes, blue ones - they kept here here. They kept her grounded. Where were they now? Cass thought bitterly to herself. Where were her best friends? Art was off with a new boy toy that Cass wasn't even sure if he wanted. Sullivan had stood Cass up and hadn't even come over afterwards like they had all planned. Cass would be damned if she would call. Cass would be damned if she would beg again. She was over begging for love. Over it.

Cass let herself slump down onto an armchair, hands shaking as she attempted to light a cigarette. Her eyes darted around the room. She hated this house. This life. This stupid, stupid world. She wanted to burn this place to the ground.

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this book is officially more than halfway published ! sorry for the angst, i hate myself too !