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Chapter Sixty-Six
Point of View: Narrator

After kissing Kayla in the driveway for quite some time, Nick had finally walked her back to the Aveo and kissed her one last time through her window before letting her drive off.

He carried the tupperware bowl of left over casserole that Zoe had sent home with him into the house and put it in the fridge. He pulled out a stick of celery and opened the cupboard, getting some peanut butter to put on it. He felt like he'd eaten nothing but crap for the last few days and looked down at his stomach, imagining it was growing as he stared at it. He dipped the end of the celery stick into the peanut butter, and put the jar back in the cupboard, before heading to the stairs.

Nick was jogging up, chewing the celery, when he spotted on a step about halfway up the case, something shiny embedded in the carpet. He stopped and knelt down and reached for it. It was a diamond tennis bracelet, engraved on the inside edge with I love you Krystal, NGC.

It had been a Valentine's present. He'd bought it at Tiffany's and had it engraved, in New York - the one in the movie. She'd been so excited, she'd worn it everyday, never took it off. Even after they'd broken up, she'd kept it on. It was her trademark piece of jewelry - it had even been featured on the cover of her album, as she'd held her wrist up and they'd added extra sparkle to enhance it. She'd worn little else on that cover.

He swallowed the suddenly bitter-tasting celery's last bite, staring at the bracelet, his heart pounding. He twisted his hand and the light caught the diamonds, making them sparkle.

And suddenly, he was in the Camaro.

They were driving neck-to-neck, the windows unrolled in both their cars as they raced down the narrow street, the trees rushing by them - one long, green blur. He was glancing at her, then looking ahead, his heart pounding from the line he'd done and the adrenaline rushing through his body. "Krystal, pull over," he yelled, "We need to talk." But the words were slurred.
Her arm extended out the window, her middle finger in the air. She was laughing. The diamonds sparkled in the moonlight, like stars tied to her wrist. He could hear the engine of her car, roaring loudly, feel the grip of the wheel in his hands. "Pull over, Kryssie," he could hear his voice, rasping in his throat, begging. "Kryssie, please..."

Nick opened his eyes, everything felt dizzy. He was sweating. His shirt was sticking to his back and chest, to his underarms. His stomach was swirling, his head trying to make sense of what he'd just seen.

He leaped up. The casserole and the celery were not going to stay inside him. He bolted up the stairs, carrying the bracelet clutched in his hand, and threw himself at the toilet, throwing up until there was nothing left inside. His fingers were pale as he held onto the edge of the bowl, his head throbbing.

Nick sank to the tile, his cheek hot, pressing it against the cool floor. "Kryssie, please pull over..." His own voice echoed in his head, the words bouncing off the crevices of the inside of his skull like an old Atari game.

"No," he whispered aloud to the bathroom fixtures, curling his knees to his chest. "Please, God, no."