I try to stay calm, to avoid jumping to conclusions and letting me fall into the anguish. It’s Stanley, for fuck’s sake. I trust him; he’s the most trustworthy person that I know. He’s always been transparent and honest with me. All of this time, Stanley has always been clear with me.
Why is it so hard to be sincere with him?
Cora is right. Insecurities are parasites, and my brain is full of them. I don’t have the tools to deal with them, only the pieces from my heart and shattered confidence. The only thing that I can do is bare my soul for him and be honest. Put on my big girl’s pants and face the situation, as he would say.
Stanley sits on the bottom edge of the bed, keeping his distance from me. Although he’s a meter away, I feel like there are miles between us, when a couple of hours ago, we couldn’t have been closer.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about what the message said,” I begin to say. My voice doesn’t sound drowned out, but hoarse from the tears I shed when I talked with Cora. “I should’ve told you, but I didn’t know how. Sometimes I do things, and I don’t even know why. That message was before I knew you, the real you. Before we got together.”
Stanley limits himself to nod. His sight focused on his feet.
During these seconds in which he remains silent, I notice that he’s not wearing yesterday’s clothes. He has some sweatpants and a black hoodie. It looks odd on him. Maybe more vulnerable and lost.
“I know,” he mutters, and I wait for him to say something else. I don’t know if it’s because I stay quiet, or if it was his intention from the beginning, but he opens his mouth again. “Just… you could’ve told me, you know?”
May lightning strike me if I don’t realize that now.
“I know,” I whisper.
“I knew that you sent him a message. I’m not stupid, I remember everything that happened in our interactions, but I didn’t think that it would affect me in the future,” he confesses, being completely clear with his purpose of being here as I guessed that he would. “Bree, I’m sorry that I even have to ask, but I need to make sure, or I won’t be able to be with you.”
My heart squeezes inside my thoracic cage.
“Ask whatever you want, whatever you need to be at peace,” I pronounce as I blink away the tears.
“Do you have feelings for him? Am I just a consolation prize?”
The questions feel like punches in my gut, even when I saw them coming.
“No, no, no, and no,” I respond firmly. “Stan, look at me, please,” I beg when his eyes don’t meet mine. He does not see my honesty, and his gaze never meets mine. I have to crawl to get closer to him. I lead two fingers under his chin, turning his face and forcing him to look at me. His green irises are deep in a lake of pain. “How can you think that?’
“I’ve been here for hours, Bree,” he breaks down. His eyes scream at me. “I’ve been sitting on the other side of your door, waiting for you to talk to me. I’ve been racking my mind for hours, trying to understand why you wouldn’t let me in, and the only conclusion that I have is that.”
“I don’t have any kind of feelings for John Carter that are not contempt and resentment. He was a stupid and naïve crush that never turned into something else, and I wrote that message due to an exaggerated dose of alcohol. That’s it. That’s all it was,” I reassure him, trying to make him understand. “You’re not a consolation prize. You’re the one I want.”
Stanley presses his lips in a tight line. I know that I fed his insecurities for hours, but that wasn’t my intention. It was never my intention to hurt him.
“Why didn’t you want to see me?”
“Because I didn’t want you to look at me differently. Kind of how you’re looking at me now,” I respond, blinking faster to keep me from crying, but it’s useless because a few tears roll down my cheeks. “I didn’t want you to look at me and see the impulsive girl who made a mistake. I just—I wanted your vision of me to be from the one I truly am.”
He closes his eyes, letting out a sigh, giving in.
“I’m not going to say that this didn’t hurt me,” he tells me. I hold my breath, waiting for more. “But it would take more than this to change the way I look at you. Also, I won’t deny that I’m jealous and fucking angry and that I can’t wait to beat him up for doing this to you. But that will have to wait until tomorrow because my girlfriend needs me right now.”
I choke back a sob, and I climb into his lap, straddling him as my arms hug him. I’m relieved and grateful. So, so grateful. The sensation that spreads to my bones is overwhelming.
“You’re the most amazing person that I have in my life,” I mumble in his ear.
Stanley returns the hug, squeezing me closer to him. We’re just hugging, but I feel everything and more. We’re prisoners of our rollercoaster of emotions as the tension around us starts to dissolve, ending with the sweetness of our feelings.
“And you are mine.”
I smile with relief. It’s probably the first real and genuine smile that I’ve ever done. I’m glad that Stanley is the reason why I’m smiling in the middle of this clusterfuck.
“Thank you for being here, Stan. I know that I’m a mess and that I don’t handle my feelings well, but thank you for not giving up on me,” I express, unable to put together everything that I want to say.
“You’re my girl, Bree. I liked you with all of your disaster and chaos, and that’s not going to change anytime soon,” he assures me, kissing my forehead.
“Not even because of what I wrote in that message, or what the people are saying?”
“People can go to hell,” Stanley says bitterly. “The message is part of your past, before we were an us, no?”
I nod.
“Of course, it’s in the past.”
“Then I don’t have to worry about what people say. I believe you, and I trust what we have.”
I stray away a couple of inches to glance at him.
“How did I get so damn lucky?”
He shakes his head.
“Nah, I’m sure that I’m the lucky bastard,” Stan replies, wrinkling his nose, and leans in to kiss me briefly. “Are you okay?”
Licking my lips, I think about my answer.
“I will be.”
I know that I’m honest, even if right now I’m still in a challenging and demanding position where I’m not okay. I’ll soon find a way to simplify my feelings and compartmentalize them enough to get over how overwhelming they are. I’m not alone, my feelings are valid, and I’m grateful to have people that don’t judge me for my mistakes. However, even when I’m conscious that Stanley is wise and reasonable, I can’t help the need to rip off the parasite of insecurity that John inserted.
“Stan,” I call him, cupping his face with my hands. I make sure to look him directly in the eye so he can see that I’m not lying. “Never think for a second that you’re my second option. You’ve always been and will always be my only choice.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I refuse to skip class no matter how much the girls and Stanley advise me to take a break due to what happened. First, I promised my parents that I would take Luanna to the admissions office. Ash offered to do it, but I can’t let the humiliation take over my life. This was an unfortunate thing that I didn’t deserve—at least not entirely—and I have to live with my mistakes. Besides, I can’t miss the chemistry class. I can handle what the people will say for a couple of hours. I’ve developed a sense of tough skin to fight whatever gets in my way.
At least that’s what I’ve forced myself to believe. Their words can’t make me feel inferior if I don’t give them the power to do so.
After a long conversation about it, Stanley offers Luanna and I a ride, mostly because he’s still unsure that I’m making the right choice. During our trip to campus, he tells us that John hasn’t been in the apartment since Friday, but that he’ll find his stuff in the trash because Ryder had his fun last night throwing out his shit. Fortunately, Carter d
idn’t show up because I’m not sure of what would’ve happened if he had.
I don’t want Stanley and Ryder to get in trouble because of me. Especially Stan. Moss has strict policies, and he’s already on a tightrope with his grades. He can’t lose his scholarship for something that involves me. I would never forgive myself if something like that ever happened. Nor do I want us to be in the position where we have to plan to see if we could have a long-distance relationship. The thing about Stanley is that once you get used to his presence, it’s impossible to imagine a life without it.
When we arrive at campus, the nerves linger in my stomach, nausea threatening to make me sick. Insecurity wants me to go far from here, but I just take a deep breath and look at Stan, knowing that he’s here with me. His hand holds mine, our fingers intertwined.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks when we get out of the car.
I reach for my sunglasses inside my backpack and put them on. The dark lenses work as a defense mechanism that protects me from the stares.
Today I’ve done everything in my power to work on my appearance so that it becomes my armor. Even when the girls made up a schedule with shifts to avoid leaving me alone, I need a barrier that gives me the confidence to live through this day. This is the first time that I’ve dressed up for college since I started my degree. Today I left behind my faithful companion, James’ hoodie, and my yoga pants. In its place, washed-out jeans, a black leather jacket with a purple shirt underneath, and combat boots support me.
“Absolutely,” I respond with a convincing smile.
It’s barely seven in the morning, but it still feels like a century. It’s the fear, nerves, and anxiety playing against me. I just need to have a better move to make this work.
“So, the plan is to go to the admissions office first, and then—”
“Cafeteria. Luanna is meeting up with Karma,” I tell him, and he inhales deeply.
The cafeteria is a public place where people tend to get together a lot. It’s one of the top-visited sites on campus. Technically, I’d be throwing myself to the lion’s den.
“Bree.”
“I can take it,” I assure him.
Stanley is capable of seeing through my bullshit because I see a scowl forming, but he lets it pass. Instead of protesting and telling me what I shouldn’t do, he gives my hand a comforting squeeze and starts walking. As planned, we go to the admissions office, where Luanna drops off a couple of documents that she was missing from her application. By going so early and with Stanley along, the personal makes sure to help us as quickly as possible.
“I’ll see you next week so you can sign up for your courses, alright?” The recruiter offers Luanna a copy of her documents as they say goodbye.
I can see her major in the corner of one of the documents, and confusion takes over me.
“Finance?” I ask when we leave the office. Luanna’s sight strays away from me. “Lu, what the hell? That’s not your field. You don’t belong there.”
She bites her bottom lip.
“It was that or nothing at all, okay?” It’s what she replies. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
I hold her arm, preventing her from running away from this conversation. I need to understand why she had to choose that degree when it’s more than obvious that she belongs in the science field. Luanna has always been passionate about science and chemistry. That’s her real talent and where she should be putting her energies. Not in another major that she’s going to hate and will suck the life out of her. Lu won’t be happy studying finances.
“Luanna.”
“Bree, I’m serious.”
Her eyes are pleading me to let the topic go.
“Your father is making you do this,” I guess, and her gaze darkens.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Luanna repeats.
Rage, as a fire, spreads in my chest when her answer —or the lack of it— confirms my suspicion. I’m skeptical of the fact that my uncle could be such an asshole. I had low expectations about the guy, but now they got even lower. Forcing his daughter to study and invest four years of her life in something that she doesn’t like for what? His own benefit? God, I can’t even decide what’s the most messed up thing in this whole situation. The fact that Lu is sentenced to a degree that will only make her unhappy, or the fact that her father refused to pay for another career that wasn’t the one he chose?
At this point, I’m surprised that Luanna hasn’t escaped from her house. I don’t know how she’s capable of living in that circus that she calls her home. Uncle Parker is probably the worst human being that I’ve ever encountered, and I’m disgusted to say that we are related, that I share blood with that douche. It’s unbelievable that no one has called him out on his abuse and gaslighting over Luanna.
My cousin blinks a couple of times, as if she wanted to hold back the tears.
“Is Karma already in the cafeteria?” Stanley intervenes the tense environment, changing the subject before it gets worse.
“She should be,” I respond in a dry tone.
“If she isn’t, I can wait for her there. I doubt that someone will eat me alive if I stay a couple of minutes on my own,” reinstates Luanna, shrugging slightly.
I don’t doubt that what she says is true, but it doesn’t make me comfortable. We’re heading towards the cafeteria anyway, so we can decide later what we’re going to do about it. My breath shortens as Stan pushes the door, allowing me to enter the place.
Even though it’s early, there’s a small crowd of people filling it. Some of them mumble as I walk by, some even point at me with their fingers, not bothering to hide it. The nausea returns, and I start sweating under my jacket.
They don’t know me, I repeat in my head like a mantra that’s going to keep me from giving in to the panic that fuels me.
Society is rotten to the core. They are hypocrites, talking about how we should stop destroying each other, but don’t hesitate when it comes to tearing apart someone, putting them to shame. There’s no empathy, or a collective conscience that stops them. People maintain this toxic pattern that has no end.
“Ignore them,” Luanna says, tilting her head.
If only it were that easy.
“I know,” I force out the words.
Karma is not here yet, but Ryder is. He’s walking towards us, or at least I thought he was until I see him looking over my shoulder. Turning around, I grab Stanley’s arm harder, preventing him from imitating Ryder’s movements. John Carter is entering the cafeteria with a smug expression stuck to his face.
Everyone has their eyes on us, expecting the scene that’s about to unfold.
“Bree, let me go,” Stanley grits out.
I shake my head firmly.
“I can’t let you do that.”
“Bree—”
“You could get in so much trouble,” I remind him, trying to knock some sense into him, but he’s blind with rage.
He clenches his jaw. A vein is visible on his neck, an angry blush spreading all over his face. He looks seconds away from getting rid of my grasp to beat Carter senseless. But we’re in a very public place. Students are surrounding us, some with their phones out, recording the whole thing. If we were in a private area, I’d let him do whatever he wanted. He could tear him to shreds for all I care. We’re on campus, and Moss has a strict policy against fights and violence.
There are too many witnesses.
“I don’t care,” he fights back, but I keep holding onto him.
“Stan, please,” I beg. Ryder passes in front of me, and I feel dizzy, knowing what he’s going to do. “Ryder!”
He turns for a second.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” Ryder apologizes. Still, he’s not sorry because he continues his path, and before everyone can process it, his fist flies to Carter’s face, striking him so hard that he staggers back. “You’re a piece of shit!”
Carter’s groan echoes in the cafeteria. The deathly silence installs in the
space, and I’m paralyzed. No one knows how to react. Ryder is typically a laid-back guy, funny and not the violent type, but today he’s the opposite of that. He’s furious, almost to the point where he’s after his teammate’s blood. His icy-blue eyes are glowing with malice.
“I expected more from you, Ryder,” John mutters, his hand checking if he’s bleeding. There’s a small trail of blood in his bottom lip, where he probably bit himself with the impact. “But well, I guess it shouldn’t surprise me. You’re Stanley’s bitch. What are you hoping for, to be the third plate?”
Ryder snorts.
“As if you were ever an option.”
Carter shrugs. “If that helps you sleep at night,” he retorts. “But be careful, that bitch will only stay to destroy everything.”
“Do not push me, asshole,” Ryder warns through clenched teeth. “I know your pretty little secret, so if you don’t want me to go around making posts about your truths, stay in your fucking lane.”
John’s face goes paler than I thought humanly possible with Ryder’s threat.
“I dunno what you’re talking about.”
Ryder takes a step towards him, leaning to say something that only John can hear. After he’s done, Ry steps back with a satisfied grin.
“I know that because I was the one who stole your phone.”
The silence continues to the point where I don’t know if people are breathing. I haven’t been able to inhale since the moment Ryder punched him. Things have gone downhill fast and hard. I can’t understand what’s going on. Ryder threatened Carter to stop him from doing something else, and he also took the blame for—
Ryder’s protecting Stan.
Oh, Lord.
He has the power and the resources to come out of this without a single bruise, while Stanley can’t.
I follow Ryder out of the cafeteria, making sure that Stanley is walking with me and hasn’t stayed behind to kick Carter’s ass. We manage to catch up to him when he’s reaching the parking lot.
“Ry!” I yell, and this time he stops. I push him with both hands, although he can take my whole strength without issues. “What the fuck were you thinking, dumb cow?”
Sweet Keeper (Sweet Talkers Book 1) Page 26