Make A Wish (Dandelion #1) (4 page)

“I’m sorry, Say.” She sat up and rubbed her temples. “This was never about you. I just needed time. I hadn’t expected things with Beau to end so badly and I still feel like shit over it. All I can do is cry or sleep, and as of late, I’ve taken up residence on the bathroom floor because I can’t stop puking my guts out. I’m a mess, Saylor, and the last thing I wanted was to drag you into it too.”

Her admission caused me to soften, I could see how much of a mess she was. Her eyes had dark baggy circles, and lines from the tile were indented on her cheek from where she’d fallen asleep. Her hair was tangled and sticking up in various places as if she had stuck her finger in a light socket and gotten electrocuted. Her clothes weren’t much better, with stains and wrinkles as far as the eye could see.

What was going on in Juliette’s head that made her feel that she needed to go through whatever she was going through alone? Giving her a hard time would only make matters worse and I wouldn’t do that to her. She needed me.

“Okay… Fair enough. What happened with
Hottie McHot Stuff
?” I asked, not caring that it came out much blunter than I’d anticipated.

Juliette took a deep breath and spoke, her words slurring together into one big word. “Weslepttogether.”

My mouth dropped open. Of all the things I’d expected her to say, that definitely wasn’t it. She reached over and pushed my chin up to close my mouth.

“I know. Don’t give me that look, really. I totally get how stupid I was. Not only did I throw myself at the first hot guy that looked my way, but I was actually surprised when he left. You know, I never got that vibe from him, that he was the type of guy that would do something like that, but I guess I was wrong. It’s the first time I slept with someone since—”

“Don’t go there,” I interrupted. “No need to dwell on it.” The last thing I wanted was to reminisce on some of her most painful memories, only bringing it to the forefront of her mind even more than it already was.

“You’re right… It’s just… I enjoyed myself with Beau. He treated me like I was the only girl alive. He must have asked me three or four times if I was okay with what was happening. I could have stopped it at any point, but I didn’t. Had I known, I might’ve... maybe.”

Tears spilled down her cheek as she brushed them away. I sat, watching her struggle with her emotions and the demons that haunted her. Juliette is strong, much stronger than she gives herself credit for, but there comes a time when you need more than just strength to get you through the day.

I could see the hopelessness in her eyes, and my heart ached for her. I wanted to take away the pain and make her feel better. The girl who I’ve nicknamed the cyborg because she rarely shows any emotion couldn’t stop crying and I didn’t know what to do to help her.               Juliette needed to face her problems, instead of running like she always does, but no matter how many times I’ve tried to help her see that, it doesn’t do any good. She needs to want to change and better her life; I can’t do it for her, and I’m beginning to learn that. How could I make her see it, though?

“And the bottle of pills?” I asked, addressing the question that I really wasn’t sure I wanted the answer to.

“I swallowed them all.”

I gasped, the room quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

“Don’t worry. They exited my body days ago. You know, the whole puking-my-guts-out thing.”

I could see Jules trying to make light of the situation to calm my nerves, but it honestly didn’t help. Tears filled my eyes as I imagined a world without my sweet and caring best friend, my better half in every single way. Truthfully, the world would be a dark and dreary place without her and that was too painful to think about.

“Why?” I asked. I was truly curious as to why she felt like she couldn’t go on another moment.

“I don’t know. It felt right. I wanted a way out from all the pain and hurt I’m constantly being put through. While deep down, I know Beau didn’t mean to hurt me, he did and I really hate to admit that. Me swallowing the pills really wasn’t only about him—it’s about everything. Gosh, Say, I’m unlovable and you know it. Besides you, no one has ever paid any attention or cared about me. Not a single person in any of the fifteen foster homes I was in and not anybody else since then. I’m alone.”

She wrapped her arms around her knees pulled to her chest and let the tears fall, not putting a second thought to suppressing them. I slid up beside Jules, leaning against the bathroom wall, and pulled her into a hug, trying my best to comfort her.

I understood the pain that Juliette was going through. I don’t have parents either. I was dropped off at a hospital when I was two hours old, or that’s what I’ve been told by the multiple social workers who worked hard to place me in home after home over the years.

I was scrambled around—nobody wanted a mouthy brat like me. I was told I was too defiant and disrespectful. I didn’t mean to be; it’s just how I’ve always been. If I don’t speak when a thought pops into my head, I’ll forget it and I hate forgetting things. I never took abuse like Jules. I fought back and I knew the way I was being treated was wrong.

Juliette isn’t a fighter in that way, though. She’s shy at times and caring, always thinking before she speaks. She lets people treat her bad in hopes that someday people will surprise her and change. They never do. She’s experienced worse things than I have but still keeps pushing forward.

She’s gentle and I’m rough. It’s why we get along so well. Since we met, I’ve tried my best to protect her, because she needs a protector, but sometimes it’s too hard of a task even for me.

I wanted Juliette to be happy and I was more than ticked off that Beau hurt her. I swore if I ever saw him again, he’d be lucky to be leaving with all his appendages intact.

And that, that’s a promise I’d gladly fulfill.

BEAU

It had been weeks since I’d last seen Jules, and everyday I felt awful for leaving her like I did. In the moment, it’d seemed like a good idea, but since then I questioned it more times than not.

How could I, as Alpha, willingly put my entire pack at risk? My mind and heart were tearing me in different directions, causing even more turmoil between the wolf and man.

Was I doing the right thing?

Every waking minute since I arrived back at the pack reservation, I threw myself into my Alpha duties. Training the pups, prepping my warriors, checking boundaries, upholding pack law, the list goes on. I’d even taken a two week trip to visit my mom. Still, Juliette’s image crept into my mind.

How long would Jules plague me? But, did I really want it to stop?

SAYLOR

I curled up in bed beside Juliette, who’d finally drifted to sleep. My mind was still reeling over everything we’d talked about. It was hard to wrap my head around the fact that my sweet, loving, beautiful best friend—who ignores and avoids men—had a one night stand and almost succeeded in committing suicide over the guy leaving.

I knew she struggled with depression and anxiety. She always has. Well, as long as I’ve known her at least, but I didn’t know she’d go that far. Ending your life is irreversible. Everyone goes through their my-life-sucks moments, but to go that far? I just couldn’t comprehend it.

Jules went to counseling one, two, sometimes even three times a week, in hopes that many of her problems would dwindle and she’d be okay. I always thought three times a week was excessive, but maybe she really needed it after all.

I love her and I would go to the ends of the earth for her, but I couldn’t fix her. I couldn’t magically make her better, no matter how much I wished I could.

As I looked down on her sleeping, I began to pray. I don’t know if there is a God or a heaven, but for her sake, I hoped there was.

I prayed for Juliette to find a light in the darkness of her life. I prayed for hope and guidance in helping her the best way I could. And most importantly, I prayed for my wonderful best friend to no longer hurt from her past trials and tribulations, learning to cope and move on.

JULIETTE

The second I opened my eyes, I felt an overwhelming nausea advancing up my throat. I sprang from the bed and ran to the bathroom, Saylor following close behind me. What little was residing in my stomach made its way from my mouth. It was complete and utter torture.

When I was younger, one of my biggest fears was throwing up. Every time I got sick, I tried to force myself to keep it down, which only resulted in me getting even sicker. Even now, I still get the heebie jeebies from it. It’s disgusting and, in an effort to never get sick, I eat an abnormal amount of gummy vitamins. It really does help.

“Ugh… Not again. Kill. Me. Now,”

I muttered as I wiped my mouth and rested my pounding head against the wall, urging the defiant pulsing to go away.

“How long has this been going on?” Saylor motioned to the toilet that I’d just had my head drooped over.

“Too long… Probably around a week. I freaking take a bite or drink of anything and I’m rushing in here. And this,” I wave my hand around in the air, like a fairy would do with a wand, “is exactly why I’ve taken up residence on the cold, hard floor.”

A sigh escapes my lips as I breathe in and out, working on settling my queasy stomach. One glance at Saylor and I instantly regretted saying a word.

“What?” I ask, bottling the eye roll I so desperately want to make.

“Now excuse me for being the voice of reason for the first time, like ever. But I believe you, my friend, should see a Doc,” Saylor said.

I shook my head as hard as I could, only making the pulsing worse. One of the things I hate almost as much as throwing up is doctors. After the many times they’d failed to come to my rescue as a kid, I didn’t trust them. Never have, never will.

“Nope. Nada. Not happening. You can’t make me.” I puckered my bottom lip, acting every bit as childish as I sounded.

“And what if you’re still sick from all those pills that you stupidly tried to put into your body? What if you damaged your stomach? What if your stomach is collapsing from the abundance of drugs?”

The more she talked, the more I realized that the voice of reason left the building, never to be seen or heard from again.

“Saylor. Chill. I’m fine. I took the pills almost seven days ago, and I haven’t kicked the bucket yet. So, something tells me I’ll survive.”