Not So Perfect (West Coast Campus Book 4)

Prologue

Tatum-Age 18

There's this feeling in my stomach. I'm not really sure how to describe it, to be honest. I've never felt anything like it before.

It's heavy, so very heavy, almost as heavy as the pounding in my chest as I run.

I can't leave this boy along for more than two seconds, I think as I navigate through the twisted white hallways, ignoring the strange looks from the doctors and other staff members.

When Connor called me twenty minutes ago, a sobbing mess of tears and incomprehension words, I knew something was wrong.

First of all, Connor and I don't get along at all. I can't emphasise that enough. Mostly because he refuses to see the abuse and negligence his parents give his little sister, Ava, who's only a year and a bit younger than I am.

That stick is so far up his ass that I don't have any leverage to pull it out. And trust me, Atlas and I have tried to wedge it free many times.

My feet slide out from under me as I turn the corner but I quickly regain my footing as I continue to sprint through the hospital, Atlas and Ava the only thing on my mind as I try and fail to calm my erratic breathing.

I probably shouldn't be running this fast with only one more round of chemo left since to everyone around me, I'm frail and could shatter at any moment.

Sure, I lost almost thirty pounds but I'm suddenly filled with immense amounts of strength as I round another sharp corner.

Connors pacing the hallway, his hands pulling tightly at his hair, his face droopy as fat tears roll down his cheeks.

I would normally make some sort of joke about how ugly he looks but I stop myself when his eyes meet mine, full of gut wrenching pain and guilt.

"Where is he, Connor? And don't fuck with me. Not now." My whisper is hoarse, demanding. His face caves again, nose scrunching.

"You should go see Ava," He tells me, not bothering to glance my way, "She's been asking for you."

My back straightens. I'm not too keen on how he's looking at me with pity and pain. "Where?" I bite out.

Connor shakes his head and when his throat works a swallow before his body shakes with the effort of his quiet sobs, I realize he's in shock from the accident and decide to walk hesitantly down the gloomy hallway until I push open Ava's door.

He's just in surgery. Or was placed somewhere else in the hospital.

Ava's resting peacefully on the uncomfortable bed, her face silvery and pale as she spares me a glance. Her usual blazing blue and green eyes are now dark and dim, the sorrowful expression on her face breaking my heart.

Blood is splattered on her face and when I draw closer, I realize a large scar that wasn't there before is stitched closed on her cheek, along with stitches on the back of her head.

Her beautiful curly hair is matted together by dirt and blood and I bite down on my lip to keep in my cry.

"I kissed his cheek for you," Ava murmurs, her head turning slightly towards me, "And I promised him I would take care of you since he can't anymore."

I blink, confused. "I don't understand."

A soft cry leaves Ava's down turned lips. "He's gone, Tatum. He flew through the windshield when the other truck hit us."

No. My hand covers my sob. "You're lying," I hiss, regretting it when I watch her flinch.

"He wasn't alone. I held him and made sure he knew how much you loved him." She gives me a watery smile. "I hope you know how much he loved you as well. So very much, Tatum. And I told him not to feel guilty about leaving; that he should try and be happy until we can see him again."

Silence follows. Ava reaches for my limp hand and she squeezes tightly, and I let her offer any type of comfort she can give to me right now.

"Was it painful?" I clear my throat. "Was he in lots of pain when he passed?"

Ava shakes her head but I see her swallow. "No. He didn't feel anything."

Even though I'm certain it's a lie, I let that lie relax my shoulders slightly.

Oh god. No, no, no. He's really gone. Actually gone. And I never got to say goodbye.

My hands fly to my stomach, heart beating wildly as I clutch the last piece of him that's growing inside me.

We learned about three weeks from my doctor that I'm over twelve weeks pregnant and because I was that far along, that's the only reason the baby survived chemotherapy.

Atlas was so incredibly happy, over the moon with joy. We've been dating for over three years and even at fifteen years old, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him.

But now he's...gone. Gone without me.

My heart squeezes firmly and everything around me shakes. Spins. Crashes.

"I'm so sorry, Tatum," Ava sobs, heart wrenching cries coming from her, "I'm sorry I couldn't save him."

Realizing that she just lost her brother, the one who promised her everything-the moon if he could have reached it-I wrap my arms tightly around her, my tears soaking through her ratty hospital dress.

"Don't apologize, Ava. We'll get through this together, yeah?"

I say that, watching the way it relaxes her and sets her at ease but in reality, I know I'll never be able to actually live without him.

Atlas was my one love, the brightest and most lively of them all. His smile drew out my own, his laugh pulling out my fucking soul.

The way he loved me, held me, cared for me. The way he would describe his day for me, good or bad just because I asked. Buy me gummy worms when I was feeling down and the way he would sing in the shower loud enough for me to hear from the bedroom.

He was going to be such a good father and it makes me ache to think about how he was stripped away from our baby in a matter of seconds.

The complete awe on his face when we got to see our baby for the first time on the screen is something I know is going to be etched into my memory forever. The way he cried shamelessly and held my hand. The way he was done building the crib that very night.

Sobs build in my chest and I let the damn free, the world already so much dimmer without him in it.

I can't tell which is worse. The shock of everything that just happened or my crushing ache for what never will.

I cry endlessly, for what feels like years upon years.

I promise to take care of our baby, I tell him. I promise to love them double the amount so they know what yours feels like. I promise to help Ava through this guilt.

And I promise, I fucking promise, that I won't let my many tears that fall when I think about you mar the many smiles and lifetime memories you gave me when you were still here.

For the first time today, a smile builds on my face softly. I love you so much, Atlas. Fly fucking higher than anyone else ever has. But not too high so I can still make my way back to you one day.