I wanna dedicate this chapter to my friend @PragathiSuresh to thank her for her support on all my stories, and particularly this one. I mean she's read all the chapters until here in about one day once she's finished her exams! 😳🤩 I know it's a lot because my chapters tend to be long 😅 Anyway, thank you so much 😘✨ and congrats on your exams 🥳 Also, I hope you're doing better 💕

'Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shootin' stars

I could really use a wish right now, wish right now, wish right now'

*DOROTHY'S POV*

"It's an impossible choice. How do you want me to decide? You, what do you advise me?" A sigh heavy with dilemma and expectation echoed in the room. "Chocolate or vanilla?"

"Um, people's favorite is generally chocolate." Loretta, the waitress, offered me and the ten people behind a sorry smile before turning back to Mrs. Jenkins.

Today, Nellie and Rachel weren't there, so she was alone to handle the diner, and what usually should have gone smoothly at this time of the afternoon had turned into a traffic jam of thirsty people thanks to Mrs. Jenkins and her legendary indecisiveness.

Though, personally, I didn't mind. It gave me a distraction, and the old woman had sensible arguments.

"Yes, but I also love vanilla. Not everyone can appreciate it. It's more subtle but as sweet..."

I watched the old woman's orange sun hat move with the movements of her head, imagining the pout adding to her wrinkled face as I absent-mindedly fiddled with the item in my left hand before I did the same with my right hand.

"At the same time, chocolate is a safe bet. The taste wraps around your tastebuds like home..."

More sighs echoed from behind me, and I was sure even Loretta let out one discreetly as Mrs. Jenkins continued,

"While vanilla is more refreshing. Maybe it's better for the weather today, but what if it's too fresh?

What about tomorrow? In a year? Forever? Once I've chosen, there's no turning back. What if I regret it? What if it leaves everyone unhappy– Okay, I might have been extrapolating.

It wasn't Mrs. Jenkins's words anymore, and it turned out the old woman's dilemma wasn't distracting me from my own, on the contrary.

Vanilla or chocolate, Blade or Spencer... it was all the same impossible choice.

"Dorothy, what do I serve you?" Loretta's smile appeared in front of me, no trace of Mrs. Jenkins, whose back I'd been staring at for the past 20 minutes.

She must have made her choice, and now, it was my turn as the waitress blinked at me, her hands already grabbing a glass to fill with what?

My gaze darted to the two signs above the counter: a chocolate bar and a vanilla pod. "Sorry, I'm not thirsty anymore."

A wave of sickness was even climbing up my throat as a result of my insides being torn apart, and the flickers of my eyes were worsening the dizziness. So I quickly escaped the line and the room filled with Spencer's memories to breathe in some fresh air.

Yet it was as suffocating outside, and not only because of the beating sun, as the too-fresh flashbacks of Blade and I on that parking lot hit me.

I loved the sparks of adrenaline coming with the sour smoke that his lips had teased me with as much as I adored the tickles from Spencer and I's fits of laughter... the shades of chocolate melting in Spencer's brown eyes when he gazed at me, and the hint of vanilla drowning in the wood and tobacco of Blade's scent.

Chocolate or vanilla, Mrs. Jenkins was right. It was an impossible choice, and I ended up huddling up in the back of the school bus ten minutes earlier, the driver looking at me weirdly when I asked to step in the suffocating heat of the empty vehicle, though he didn't comment in front of the mess I was.

I hadn't even realized how ragged my breath was until I breathed from the open window next to my seat and how tired I was until I closed my eyes.

It had been one week since I'd done the most horrible thing ever, and one week that I barely slept, barely ate, barely functioned. I was like an automaton, but an automaton aching in every inch of its being, and the most basic things were becoming an excruciating torture.

You would have thought that having your heart ripped in two had nothing to do with getting a drink, falling asleep, or just staring out the bus window, but it did. Actually, it wasn't only my heart that was torn apart, each of my cells was, and the emptiness that was settling in was widening the wounds with each passing day.

I missed Blade's bad intentions and Spencer's sweet attentions, Spencer's beautiful words that could erase all the nightmares and Blade's inks that led my way to a peaceful sleep. I missed that right dimple and that puppy expression, Spencer's heart-melting kisses and Blade's contrasting touch. Was it bad for me to want both chocolate and vanilla?

I knew it wasn't possible, and the more I delayed my decision, the more I was breaking their hearts along with mine.

All I risked doing was to end up like an old eccentric, unable to even buy a milkshake.

Why couldn't I be like other girls? Normal girls didn't love two guys at the same time. They broke up, fell out of love before slowly falling in love with someone else, or they trusted and loved their boyfriends, always.

It shouldn't have even been possible that way. Yet Blade had sneaked his way into my heart like the criminal he was, sharply and with no promise, while Spencer had kept his place there, faithfully, never leaving an instant in spite of what I'd thought. I'd never expected this, but I'd rushed straight to fall in love without falling out of love before. Rushing and crashing, the opposite of what a lady should do, as my mom would have said.

I could almost hear the disappointed tut in her voice.

"Dorothea, what are you doing?"

Oh, no, actually, she was really there, in front of me, the shake of her head going with the question, and as I blinked my eyes at the white fence separating us, I realized I'd already arrived home. It was the perfect example of how I behaved like an automaton – unless I'd magically teleported myself from the back of the empty, unmoving bus?

"Are you planning to stand here much longer?" she asked, the question rhetorical as she was already opening the front gate and grabbing my hand, the one holding the wooden fidget toy. "Your dad is here and–"

"He's here?" I blinked again, this time noticing the white car.

It was a rare sight these days, as he was working a lot on the growing campaign of the mayor, and it opened my eyes, literally and figuratively, especially with my mom gently pulling a few wild curls away from my face.

They were here; my parents were here for me.

To think I'd been wishing for the freedom and responsibilities of being an adult. Now that I had them on my small shoulders, I was starting to regret the lightness of easier times when all I'd had to worry about had been asking to go play at the park, and as my mom pulled me inside, and I was met with the unmistakable sweet smell of her angel cake, I savored still having my parents there for me.

Maybe I could still talk to them – of course, not to help me choose between Blade and Spencer because they wouldn't be objective, but it wasn't the only question I had no answer to.

Everything was uncertain, and like a simple law of physics, maybe if I let go of a few burdens on my chest, it would be easier for my heart to soar.

How could I even know whom my heart wanted when I had to pretend all the time at the police station, at school, at the diner...? Here I was home, and if I didn't always agree with them, I knew my parents had the wisdom of experience and adulthood. They had known when the weather was not safe to go play at the park, and maybe they could give me advice about Douglas's death, although the matter was much heavier.

That was what happened with adulthood: more freedom, more responsibilities, and more to lose...

"Oh, I have to take the cake out of the oven. Go to the patio, your dad is here with–"

Mr. Thornton senior. I froze in the middle of the living room, the sight of my dad shaking the mayor's hand through the open back door hitting me like a bullet.

I would have wished to be hallucinating, but each of my nerves was more aware than it had been in a week, and I took in everything acutely: Mr. Thornton's loud voice echoing in the pit of my stomach, his bulbous nose that reminded me too much of his son, and I could even picture my dad's bright eyes as the mayor offered him a cash advance for his 'excellent work'.

Well, he had preached an outstanding event for free exposure and memorable impact, and he'd got it. Ironically, it was his own daughter who had contributed to it, though I doubted it could make anyone laugh. It didn't make me as the sourness burning the back of my throat again was annihilating any humor in me.

It was clear I couldn't tell my dad, not even my mom who was carefully decorating her cake with fresh cherry jam. It would make more accomplices, more to lose.

I couldn't even imagine what would happen if they ever found out, but the images were already appearing in my veins, spreading with the bangs of my heart until I found myself running again. However, this time, I knew where I was going.

There was only one person I wished to see, and in spite of the pull at my muscles and my lungs, I didn't stop, nor hesitate as I took turns and shortcuts.

I only slowed down when the asphalt under my feet turned into gravel and finally, drying grass, and my heart recognized the gloomy surroundings that not even the beating sun could brighten.

"Hey..." I cringed at how shaky my voice was, and after catching my breath and swallowing the lump in my throat, the cracks echoed even more loudly. "I know I'm probably the last person you wanna see, but... I miss you."

The three words were left hanging in the emptiness inside and outside.

What was I expecting though? An answer from the fading gray stone would have been unlikely, and there was not a living soul in the whole cemetery. 

Yet I still sat down on the grass, and when I peered up from my hands, the engraved letters made me feel a little closer to him. 'Alfred Quint, renowned journalist, beloved father, missed grandpa.'

They hadn't changed since the last time I'd been here, contrary to the fresh flowers reminding me I hadn't visited in a while. My mom put new ones every week, making sure it was always perfect; that was her way to show her love, while I...

"I've messed everything," I choked, fighting the sour lump in my throat before giving up as it took over and exploded in a burst of tears.

'Exploding', that was the word as everything I'd bottled up inside erupted in spurting tears and silent sobs, leaving me shaking.

I didn't know how long I stayed like this, giving an awful spectacle to the dead around, but I had a lot to let out, and when my cheeks finally dried under the late afternoon sun, I had nothing left in me, no hope, no energy.

"I..." I didn't even have voice as my chest slouched more with an empty breath. "Well, you've probably seen everything... and you must be so disappointed..."

I closed my eyes as if his wrinkled eyes full of shadows and disappointment would appear here, and they actually did behind my lids.

Yet when I reopened my eyes, there were still the same flowers, the same gravestone, and a soft breeze that made me shiver.

"Your little gem is... broken." And alone. "I wish you were here," I uttered the words in a whisper like it could be my only wish, even if it was hopeless. 

There was no fairytale in this world; I didn't have my evil genie, nor my prince charming, and the shooting star had crashed.

"You didn't prepare me for all of this..."

'When you have a dream, you fight for it...

Always listen to your precious heart...

Never let anyone hurt you...'

I'd gone through all his written advice, but I was only getting more and more lost.

"You're the only one who can help me... about the college application... about Blade and Spencer... about–"

"We say people who talk to the dead have too much on their conscience." My monologue was interrupted by a voice above my shoulder, and for an instant, I really did believe my wish had been granted as my heart crashed so violently against my ribcage that I thought I would join Grandpa.

But then, a trail of shivers restarted my heart at an uneven pace as I turned to the figure looming over me.

"You know, talking to the police works better."

Kenneth Thornton was standing here, tall and in a dark navy jacket that made him look more frightening than Death itself as his shadow engulfed my whole slumped form on the grass.

How hadn't I seen him coming? I'd been sure I was alone here, and movements and crunches of gravel should have been easy to notice through the unmovable stones and silence. But I'd been too lost in my thoughts, and I'd been one second away from revealing his brother's death. 

One second, and everything would have crashed like it had when I'd pulled the trigger, like when I'd slept with Spencer, and when I'd screamed 'I love you' to Blade.

One second, one slip, and you had to pay for it all your life. It was unfair, and in that instant, if I didn't want to pay a too-expensive price, I had to keep my guard up.

Yet how to when I had nothing left in me to even stand and I was shrinking when his hand approached me?

"It's more liberating," he added, his hand stopping in front of my eyes, held out for me, and the unexpected gesture appeared inviting, as much as his words when I had no more strength to fight, to stand.

If I gave in, I would have no more lies to carry, no more people risking everything for me, no more what-ifs and scary suppositions. For one second, I considered it, until my gaze flicked up to his eyes and the look I recognized there: dark and deceiving.

In less than a second, I was up by myself. I wasn't sure how, as my legs were wobbling, along with all my nerves, yet my hands weren't. My fists were tight around the pendant at my neck and the wooden toy I held in front of me, and it was in-between those two that a spark came from.

"What I have on my conscience is none of your business."

His eyes widened at my confident tone, though only to expose more darkness, and it made me take a step back, even if his hand was withdrawing.

"That's the thing... I think it does."

He reminded me so much of Douglas as he eyed me up and down like a prey. However, it was in a more powerful, more calculating, more military way, as if he was measuring me, bringing down my guards and my clothes, all at the same time. Thus, it sent even more crippling shivers down my spine.

"I don't believe in coincidences, and it's quite 'coincidental' how you always find yourself at strategic places... here, at school, at the bar..."

"I wasn't..." My retort crumbled down as he extended his hand in front of my face again, except this time, there was a tiny circle of metal in it, a purity ring with the engraving 'True love can wait', my purity ring.

"Do you know where we found this?" He cocked an eyebrow, even if it wasn't a question, and the answer was already at the corner of his hidden smile before it flashed in my head... Me rummaging through my room to find it the night after Douglas's death... me escaping with Blade and Spencer... me running away from Blade and Spencer... always like a crashing mess.

"At the Drillin' bar, in the hallway, right in front of the courtyard where Douglas got killed, shot mercilessly in the heart."

I flinched at the harshness of his words. He was talking about his little brother here, yet he stayed unwaveringly cold and deadly, no emotion seeping past his rough features, except the need for revenge that emanated through his every pore to wrap around my insides.

"Haven't you lost yours recently?" His gaze flickered to my left hand, where the faint sun-tan line remained like a proof of what I'd lost, and I wasn't quick enough to pull my hand away, although Kenneth had surely noticed it last week, during the school interrogation.

He was an experienced captain after all, and I was just a messy girl.

Spencer was right; my hands would betray me if I wasn't careful.

"There are lots of people who lose their purity ring," I replied, dodging his question. It was one of the techniques Blade had taught me for interrogations.

When had this cemetery even turned into an interrogation room? Surely the second Kenneth had stepped into it, turning the peaceful quietness of remembrance into inquisitive silence with his insignias and lifted eyebrow, even though I doubted it was legal.

The Thorntons had all the power to get around the law, and I was reminded that Kenneth was part of this family as he leaned closer, his towering frame making me stumble back until my ankle scraped against a gravestone, and he only stopped when he was close enough for his chuckle to reverberate directly in crippling goosebumps on my skin.

"Not in the East side. People aren't pure there. They're born dirt," he spat the words from his haughty chin, arising a mix of bile and revolt up my throat because of his insults, his heady cologne, and his eyes. "Only an angel crashed from heaven would lose her purity there."

Douglas was nothing in comparison to his brother, I realized as I swallowed Kenneth's words, their underlying meaning going straight to my guts in a crippling shiver, and that, without even touching me.

I could try to reason myself that he had no proof that the ring was mine, that I'd been there that night, that I knew about Angel. Yet I was still cornered in every sense of the word. With each passing second of silence, his hovering figure appeared taller and scarier as if he was feeding on my powerlessness, his crooked smile growing with each shake of my body, and his chest puffing the more mine was shriveling.

Though the most frightening was the darkness I recognized in his eyes, the one of a predator who had just found his new prey. That was all I was as I looked down at my shaky fingers and white knuckles. 

I had no gun in my hand, this time. The only things I had left were the fidget toy and the pendant, which were acting as a pathetic shield from him. No matter how hard I gripped them and wished for a miracle, the power was only in his hands, and maybe in fate...

The tears burning behind my eyes were an excruciating contrast with the rest of my body as I tried to look at the same gravestone in a last hope, yet I couldn't. I was stuck with Kenneth Thronton for dead-end as I closed my eyes to block everything inside and outside.

"Dorothy, is everything okay?"

The voice seeping through the deadly silence felt like an apparition sent from above as my eyes shot open, and the rush of adrenaline in my veins made me take in how frozen I'd been.

My muscles were still as stiff as the stone in my lower back, and it took me a few seconds to turn my head in the direction of the voice, while Kenneth had already moved at least one or two steps back to stand at a 'respectful' distance when I caught the figure of the old woman walking in our direction.

"Nellie... I-I'm fine," I replied, my breathlessness as I stumbled away from Kenneth telling another story to Nellie's frown.

Yet I was really fine. I had no mark on my body. Kenneth hadn't touched me, and he had no concrete proof against me. I was fine... for now, the shivers in the back of my neck seemed to add as I joined Nellie on the gravelly path.

Kenneth would stop at nothing to catch the culprit, and although I didn't dare to look back, I could feel his gaze on my skin, following me like a haunting whisper over my shoulder. He didn't mind... He always liked a 'good chase'.

"Let me drive you home." Nellie confirmed my suppositions as she glanced behind, wrapping an arm around my shoulder, and the warmth contrasted with the cold sweat of my skin. "Was he bothering you?"

"No, no... I guess it's his job to scare people." Though I'd never seen Raymond belittling anyone. "I told you it's fine."

"Humph..." She pursed her lips, an expression she only wore when someone dared to criticize her famous milkshakes. "Captain or whatever he is, no one has the right to treat my little sunshine like this, and it isn't 'fine'." Her voice was growing louder, just like when she exposed her arguments in favor of fresh fruit and heavy cream, and it managed to pull a small smile on my lips.

Yet if it was like for her milkshakes, she was far from finished, and I stopped to face her by the cemetery metal gate before the colorful words could come out and the whole town could hear her annoyance.

"Nellie..." My gaze traveled from her worried features to my clenched fists. "Can you please not tell Pete? Because if Blade knows– I don't want to bring him more trouble."

I realized I was still trembling as I waited for her answer. I was still powerless to protect the people I loved, as I couldn't even protect myself, and I once more felt so small as her eyebrows fell down to take in my distressed eyes.

"Don't worry, I won't." She finally smiled, yet just for a second, and I didn't get to catch my breath that she lifted a finger. "But if it ever happens again, you better tell me, and I'll teach the Captain Thornton a lesson myself," she announced deadly serious, not even flinching as Kenneth's gaze was still on us, and although she was one of the kindest souls I knew, spoiling everyone with love and extra-cream, in that instant, she looked scarier than most of the Crossbones gangsters, with her wicker basket full of pruners, trowels, and other gardening tools.

I didn't doubt the old woman and her usually smiley round face didn't need anyone to teach him a lesson.

"Thank you, but I can manage." I had to because I couldn't involve her too in this mess.

She was already doing a lot. She had saved me just in time, appearing in the deserted cemetery at the exact second I needed, and now, instead of visiting her late husband, she was leading me to her car, holding me with all the warmth I needed. I wouldn't argue against her driving me home – because she indeed could be scary – but I had to fight by myself because the more people I counted on, the more there was to lose.

Phew! Can we all thank Nellie? Because she appeared like an angel!

Kenneth is scary, what do you think? Scarier than his brother or not? 🤔😱

Also, important question: Chocolate or Vanilla? 😏

Let me know your answers in the comments, and don't forget to vote ⭐ if you liked this chapter!

Finally, SOMETHING IMPORTANT ⚠️: Tomorrow is the 1 year ANNIVERSARY of this baby! Yes, I've posted the first chapter one year ago! Time flies when we're having fun 😉 I know I'm a slow writer 😅 but I hope you enjoy my weekly updates, and also there's still a lot more to come in this story... 🤫✨

Anyway, to celebrate, I have a little surprise coming tomorrow... So stay on the lookout 👀

And in the meantime, I love you all so much my little Shooting stars 🌠😘💕