Ride or Die

1. I Write Sins Not Tragedies

~ WILLA's POV ~

I’m gonna kill that motherfúcker!

Sighing to my empty glass of milkshake, I stared at the clock on the wall and rolled my eyes dramatically. It was almost 9.30 PM. I had been waiting in this diner for over an hour and my dear brother still hasn't shown. 

Calling his phone for the twentieth time that night, I groaned when he didn’t pick up and I reached his voicemail again. “Where the hell are you, Wes? Are you even coming? Call me!”

Putting my phone away, I stared lazily at the tall glass of milkshake in front of me. I had ordered two and one was for him, but now I finished mine and his was melting away. 

No milkshake should ever go to waste like this.

I swiped the milkshake from across the table and slurped away. Although it wasn’t even cold anymore, it still tasted great. Getting milkshakes at Georgia’s Diner had been a tradition for Wes and me ever since our fifth birthday. We used to live in an apartment down the block and our parents would take us here for our birthday breakfast. This place had been around since the 70s and my parents were high school sweethearts that used to come here on date nights. Suffice to say, this place held a lot of memories for my family and me.

I hadn’t been home in three years. Tonight was my first night back in New York and I was so excited to come here. I even took a red-eye flight to make sure I got here right on my birthday, so Wes and I could do this together. 

But then the motherfucker decided not to show up!

My twin brother, Wes, was always horrible with time management, but this was a new low for him. His sister had just finished a three year modeling contract, this was the first time in three years we could spend our birthdays together, and he decided to go AWOL on me. 

“Willa!” I turned around to see Marie, one of the senior waitresses at the diner. She had been working here for years. “Oh my, I haven’t seen you in ages. You’re as skinny as a stick, girl, you need to eat more,” she ran over to me and gave me a hug.

“Oh, Marie. It’s part of the job. How are you, how’s your son?” I asked her.

“My son’s a freshman in high school now, can you believe it?”

“Little Tommy’s a freshman? Wow, you better watch out,”

“I know. They grow up so fast,” she smiled sadly. Her eyes darted to my table and the two glasses of milkshake. “Who are you with? Is Wes here?”

“Supposed to be, but he’s probably lying in a ditch somewhere,” I sighed.

“Oh, dear,” she paused for a moment before continuing, “You know, he was just here last week with a friend. I saw him,”

“Well, if you see him tonight, please tell him that I’ve gone home,”

Rolling my eyes for added dramatic effect, I fished a twenty dollar bill from my jeans pocket and put it on the table. That should be enough for two milkshakes and a generous tip.

“Aw, okay, sweetie,” Marie smiled.

“Have a good night, Marie,”

“Thank you, you too,”

I pulled my jacket tighter as I walked out of the diner, passing by the 24 hour sign outside was blinking in bright green and yellow. It was early September, so the air was cooler at night. I could be at home right now, curled under my duvet watching Netflix and eating ice cream. Instead, I was waiting at a diner for over an hour because my brother promised he would be there—but he wasn’t. 

When I get my hands on you, Wes, you are so dead!

Walking down these familiar streets, I couldn’t help but feel a little emotional. I was born and raised in New York City, Brooklyn to be exact. When I was seventeen, Wes and I both applied to Columbia because that was always our dream since we were kids playing in Central Park after school. Wes and I were like two peas in a pod. Everything he did, I had to do too. He ran track, so I ran track. I took art classes, so he took art classes. He wanted to go to Columbia, so I did too. We fought sometimes, sure, what siblings don’t? But Wes and I loved each other, that part was certain. 

Wes ended up going to Columbia, but I didn’t. Two big things happened a few months before we graduated high school and it set the course for the next few years of our lives. The first thing was that we lost our dad in a car accident. I didn’t know much about the details, but he was driving late one night in the snow, the car swerved and he hit a tree. He died on the spot.

The second big thing that happened that year was that I got scouted by an agent while Christmas shopping with my mom at Macy’s. I was really tall for girls my age, at seventeen I was 5’ 9” and I weighed 120 pounds. Wes was only a little taller than me at 5’11”. We both had honey blonde hair and bright blue eyes. We looked so much alike, when we were kids we used to prank our mom by wearing each other’s clothes and she couldn’t tell us apart. 

What was that? Did you think I just glanced over the part about my dad’s death? 

Well, yeah, I did that on purpose. I never really liked talking about my dad. After he died, mom buried herself in her work, she worked as a nurse at St. John’s Hospital. Anyway, that was all I wanted to say about that. I prefer we talk about something else. Let’s see, where was I…

So, after graduation, I decided to take that modeling offer and say no to Columbia. Wes wasn’t happy with my decision, he thought it was stupid of me to throw away an Ivy League education for a career in walking. That was the first time Wes and I ever truly disagreed on something. 

Modeling was okay to me, it wasn’t the greatest thing in the world, but I enjoyed it. The thing that got me to sign that three year contract was the fact that I could travel the world and get paid for it. Ever since I was a kid, I liked to stare at the sky and watch the airplanes go by. I always wondered where those people were going and when it would be my time. 

I never liked being in one place for too long. Plus, after my dad’s untimely passing, everything at home wasn’t the same anymore. I was questioning everything, and I felt lost. But I knew that I had to get out of there, that place wasn’t home anymore, and modeling was my ticket out.

So, I got out. 

For the last three years, I had the opportunity to travel to places like Paris, Milan, London, Hong Kong, Beijing, Tokyo, Rio de Janeiro, and Johannesburg. There were a lot of jobs in New York too, but I never took them on purpose. I wasn’t ready to go back just yet. Deep down inside, I still felt like I hadn’t dealt with my dad’s passing. It was a difficult thing to do when you were only seventeen or eighteen. But after three years, I was now twenty one and an adult. I was finally ready.

So last week, I decided to give Wes a call. I told him I was coming back on our birthday and he agreed that we should meet at the diner, ‘just like old times’ he said. Mom was still on call at the hospital, so I would see her later tonight. Mom still lived in the same house in Brooklyn, but Wes had moved out. Even though it was still in the city, it would take an hour and thirty minutes to travel from Brooklyn to Columbia, so Wes decided to get a roommate and moved in to the city. 

Turning the corner, I reached my old neighborhood, and memories of my teenage years filled my head. That bench was the bench where I had my first kiss. It was with Anthony Russell and we were in the ninth grade. That lamppost was when my first ever serious boyfriend, Michael Wallace, asked me to the prom. He held a large pizza box with M&Ms on it making the word ‘Prom?’. 

Cheesy, I know. No pun intended, but I was really into the Princess Diaries back then.

I was half-smiling, half-cringing as I remembered my high school Willa. She was a confused and naïve girl. She believed in love and fairytales and happy endings. But a lot has changed since then. No, I wasn’t the same Willa White that first left the city at eighteen. My travels had taught me that love was overrated and fairytales don’t always have a happy ending. The world out there was cold and ruthless, and you had to play the game to survive.

Having seen my fair share of the world, I learned how to handle people and how to carry myself in situations. I learned how to observe and read through people’s hidden intentions. Because everyone always had hidden intentions.

I knew when to keep my mouth shut and when to say my piece. And I learned how to say my piece in the most efficient, eloquent, and uncompromising way possible. Twenty one year old Willa was a force to be reckoned with. I came back a different, better, and stronger. 

I was mindlessly walking towards my house when suddenly I noticed the red and blue lights of a police car parked right outside. In New York City, seeing a police car around was a natural sight. But this was different. Something was wrong, and I could feel it.

I walked up the steps to my house and saw two officers in NYPD uniform at the door, knocking and ringing the doorbell.

“Can I help you, officers? I asked them.

The two men turned around and the guy with the mustache asked, “Do you know the people that live in this house?”

“Yeah, it’s my parents’ house, but my mom’s out working,”

“Are you related to Weston Daniel White?” the other one asked.

“That’s my brother. What’s going on, officers?”

They exchanged a look before turning to me and said, “You need to come with us. Something’s happened to your brother,” 

“What?” I gaped.

“We’ll explain everything on the way. Come with us,”

Before I could say another word, the two men led towards the police car and I got inside. Seconds later, the car pulled away and that familiar siren started ringing in my ears. The car sped through town and I just sat there completely bewildered. Sure, I miss New York and all, but I wasn’t expecting this kind of welcome at all.

What did Wes do this time? What’s going on?

Just like any other normal adolescent teen with grief and other issues, Wes had a knack for trouble. Ever since our dad’s death, things got worse him. He was always partying, drinking, vandalizing things in the neighborhood, but I thought he straightened himself out once he got into Columbia. Mom told me he was doing well. He got straight A’s and was always on the dean’s list.

As my mind kept racing, the car pulled to a stop and we arrived in front of Mount Sinai Hospital. The officers got out and one of them pulled the door open for me.

“What’s this? What’s happening?” I asked him.

“Please, follow me,” he strode towards the hospital’s entrance and I quickly followed behind him. We walked down a long hallway and he said, “There has been an accident. Your brother is in critical condition, but he’s stable as of now,” 

“What accident?” I gaped. I felt my heart sank to my feet. 

This can’t be real.

“I think the doctors will explain it better,” he replied and gestured to a room, “Right here,”

I pushed the door open with shaky hands and all the while I was still thinking, this couldn’t be real. I was probably just dreaming. This kind of thing couldn’t happen in real life. 

But after my dad died, I should know, these things are as real as it gets.

The first thing I saw was the doctor standing next to the bed. A guy was lying on the bed, bandaged, and all hooked up to all these machines. I stepped closer to get a better look.

Maybe it’s not him. Maybe they got the wrong guy.

But my eyes shot open and my jaw fell to the floor as soon as I saw his face. It was a face that I knew so well. I grew up with that face. Hell, I had that face.

“Wes…” I croaked and tears welled around my eyes. “Oh god, what happened?”

His eyes were closed. He looked so pale and frail. He was lying there motionless. He didn’t even flinch when I touched his skin. And his skin felt cold.

Oh god. No, I take it back. Wes… I’m so sorry, I don’t want you to die. Oh my god.

- - - - - - - - To Be Continued - - - - - - - -