His words slice right through me.
Any part of me that had been changed during my time with Andrew, all of the walls that I let down for him, just shot right back up around me.
Because he’s right and I fucking know he’s right.
That logic is what kept me from jumping fully into his world all this time. And in a matter of seconds the truth in his words made me submissive to that logic once again.
I decide to drop it. There’s an issue far more important than mine right now and I make sure I don’t treat him any differently.
“You’ll…need to go to your father’s funeral, so—”
Andrew swings around at the waist, his eyes full of resolve.
“No, I won’t be going to the funeral.”
He slips a clean shirt on down over his abs.
“But Andrew…you have to.” My eyebrows deepen heavily within my forehead. “You’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t go to your own father’s funeral.”
I see his jaw moving as if he’s gritting his teeth. He looks away from me and sits on the end of the bed, bending over and wedging his bare feet down inside his low black running shoes, not bothering to untie them so they’ll loosen.
He stands up.
I can only stand here in the center of the room, unbelieving. I feel like I should know something to say that will make him change his mind about the funeral, but my heart tells me that this is one argument I’m not going to win.
“I’ve got something I’ve gotta do,” he says, shoving his car keys down inside his shorts pocket. “I’ll be back in a little while, alright?”
Before I can answer, he steps up to me and cradles both sides of my head within his hands and leans in, touching his forehead to mine. I just look into his eyes, seeing so much pain and conflict and indecision among a storm of other things that I can’t even begin to put a name to.
“Will you be alright?” he asks softly with his face inches from my own.
I lean away and look at him and nod.
“I’ll be alright,” I say.
But it’s all that I can bring myself to say. I’m as conflicted and indecisive as he seems to be. But I’m also hurting. I feel like something is happening between us, but it’s pulling us further apart than together like this whole trip had been doing. And it scares me.
I understand the logic. My walls are back up. But it scares me unlike anything ever has before.
He leaves me standing here as I watch him slip out of the room.
This is the first time since he came back for me in that bus station that he’s left me. We have been together, practically inseparable, this whole time and now…since he walked out that door, I feel like I’m never going to see him again.
ANDREW
28
“STARTIN’ EARLY, AREN’T YAH?” the bartender says as he slides a shot across the bar top and into my hand.
“If you’re open and serving already, then it’s not too early.”
It’s already three o’clock in the afternoon. I left Camryn alone early this morning, well before eight. Kind of odd that we’ve been on this trip together all this time and neither of us ever thought to, or wanted to, bring up anything about swapping phone numbers. I guess it didn’t matter much since she and I were always together. I’m sure by now she’s long past wondering if I’m ever coming back, maybe wishing she had my number so she can find out if I’m alright—the glass on the cell is broken, but it still works. I’m starting to wish that it didn’t though because Asher and my mom have tried calling dozens of times already.
I intend to go back to the hotel, but I’ve decided that it’ll only be to get Aidan’s guitar from the room and to leave a plane ticket for Camryn on my bed. The room is paid up for two more days, so she’ll be alright. I’ll leave her money for a cab ride to the airport, too. It’s the least I can do. I’m the one that talked her into this shit with me. I’ll be the one making sure her way home is paid in-full and that it’s not a bus this time.
It ends today.
I never should’ve let it go this far, but I was delusional and blinded by my painfully forbidden feelings for her. But I think she’ll be alright; we didn’t sleep together and no one said those three damning words that would definitely make things more complicated, so yeah…I think she’ll be just fine.
After all, she never gave in to me. I basically laid the option out on the table for her: If you were to let me fuck you, you would have to let me own you. If that wasn’t a blatant invitation then I don’t know what is. Not very romantic, but it is what it is.
I pay for my shot and leave the bar. I just needed something to take the edge off. Though, for it really to do any good at taking this kind of edge off I would’ve had to drink the whole damn bottle. I slide my hands down inside my pockets and walk the length of Bourbon Street and Canal Street and eventually down streets I don’t even recall the names of as I go past the signs. I walk forever, everywhere, much like on mine and Camryn’s sporadic road trip with no direction or purpose. I just go.
I think I’m not trying to waste time so that the night falls and I can slip in and out quietly while she sleeps, but I’m wasting time hoping I’ll change my mind. I don’t want to leave her, but I know I have to.
I end up at Woldenberg Riverfront Park, sitting along the bank of the Mississippi and watching the ships and the ferry as it travels back and forth to and from Algiers. The night falls. And for the longest time my only company is a statue of Malcolm Woldenberg, until two girls, obviously tourists judging by the I Love NOLA t-shirts, walks up.
The blonde one smiles coyly at me while the brown-haired one goes in for the kill.
“Partying anywhere tonight?” She cocks her head to one side looking down at me. “I’m Leah and this is Amy.”
The blonde, ‘Amy’, smiles at me in a way that I know all I’d have to do is ask her to fuck me and she would.
I nod, trying to be polite, but don’t offer my own name.
“So? Partying tonight, or not?” the brown-haired one asks, sitting down next to me on the concrete.
I’ve already forgotten their names.
“No, actually I’m not,” I say and leave it at that.
The blonde sits down on the other side, drawing her knees up so that her shorts hike way up her bare thighs.
Camryn looks better in shorts like that.
I just shake my head and look back out at the Mississippi.
“You should come with us,” the brown-haired girl says. “There’s a lot of action going on over at d.b.a tonight; you look bored as hell.”
I glance over at her. She’s pretty hot, just like the blonde, but I find myself completely turned off the more she talks. All I can think about is Camryn. The girl has wounded my soul. It’ll never be the same.
I scan the brown-haired girl’s legs and then watch how her lips move when she says, “We’d really like you to join us; it’ll be fun.”
I could…if I’m leaving and intend never to see Camryn again, maybe I should leave with these two, get a room somewhere else and fuck them both. I’m pretty sure at the rate things are going that they would do each other in front of me. Been there, done that a few times and it never really gets old.
“I don’t know,” I say. “I was waiting for someone.”
I have no idea what I’m saying, or why I’m saying it.
The brown-haired girl leans over and puts her hand on my thigh.
“We’d be better company,” she says in a sultry sort of whisper with all of the obvious overtones of a girl who has had way too many one-night stands.
I move her hand off me and stand up, thrusting my hands back inside my pockets and leave. Any other time I might be on it, but not today.
Yeah, my soul is probably wounded beyond repair. I’ve got to get out of this city.
As I walk away from the two girls without saying a word, I hear their voices fluttering on the air behind me. I don’t give a shit what they’re saying, or how rejected
they feel. In an hour they’ll be riding some other guy’s cock and will forget they ever spoke to me.
It’s after midnight now. I already stopped at an internet café and purchased Camryn’s plane ticket to North Carolina online and afterwards stopped at an ATM and withdrew more than enough cash to pay her cab ride to the airport and one home from the airport in North Carolina.
On my way into the front lobby of our hotel, I ask the front desk clerk for an envelope, a piece of paper and something to write with and then I sit down on a couch in the lobby and write Camryn a note:
Camryn,
I’m sorry I left like I did, but I know I couldn’t say goodbye face-to-face. I hope you’ll remember me, but if forgetting me is easier then I can live with that, too.
Never hold back, Camryn Bennett; be sure to do what you want in life, say what you feel and never be afraid to be yourself. Fuck what everybody else thinks. You’re living for you, not them.
The code below is what you’ll need to give to the airport to get on your plane home. All you’ll need is your I.D. The plane leaves tomorrow morning. The cash is for your cab.
Thank you for best two weeks of my life and for being there for me when I needed you the most.
-Andrew Parrish
KYYBPR
I read the note over five times before I’m satisfied with it and finally fold it and place it with the cash into the envelope.
I make my way to the elevator. One last hurdle is slipping out without Camryn knowing about it. I hope she’s still asleep. Please just let her be asleep. I can do this if I don’t have to see her, but if she sees me…No. I have to be able to do this either way.
And I will.
I step out of the elevator on our floor and make my way through one long, brightly-lit stretch of hallway past several rooms. Seeing our rooms out ahead makes my stomach swim nervously. I walk past quietly; worried that my shoes shuffling across the floor might be enough to let her know I’m out here. There’s a DO NOT DISTURB sign hanging on her doorknob and I don’t know why but seeing it causes my stomach to twist up in knots. Maybe because the only time I’ve ever hung one of those on a hotel door was when I was inside getting laid. The thought of Camryn being fucked by some other guy….
I grind my teeth together and walk past. How insanely pathetic was that? She’s not even mine and I just got raped by a crazy-jealous reaction.
The sooner I get out of New Orleans, the better.
I slide my card-key in my door and slip inside the room. It looks exactly the way I left it: clothes strewn near my bags and Aidan’s guitar propped against the wall underneath the mounted light fixture. I move through the room, gathering up everything and have an oh-yeah moment when I realize I probably would’ve left my chargers in the wall if I hadn’t of seen them at the right angle when I passed. I unplug them and shove them along with my clothes down into my bag. Lastly, I hurry into the bathroom to get my toothbrush from the sink.
Camryn is standing in the doorway when I walk back out.
CAMRYN
29
“ANDREW? ARE YOU ALRIGHT?” I look across at him, crossing my arms as the room door clicks closed softly behind me.
I’ve been so worried about him…worried because I was afraid he’d left without saying goodbye, but more worried because of the state of mind he was in when he left. Because his father just died.
I catch my breath quietly and he walks past me towards his bags sitting on the end of the bed.
Why won’t he look at me?
I glance at the bags again and realize instantly what he’s doing. I let my arms fall back to my sides and I walk closer to him.
“Please talk to me,” I say gently. “Andrew, you scared the shit out of me—.” He shoves his toothbrush into his duffle bag, keeping his back to me. “—if you need to go to the funeral, that’s good. I can go back home. Maybe we can talk—”
Andrew whirls around.
“This isn’t about the funeral or my father, Camryn,” he says and his words hurt me without knowing the meaning behind them first.
“Then what is it?”
He turns away from me again, pretending to rummage through one of his bags though I know it’s just a distraction. I see an envelope sticking out of his back pocket. RYN is written across the front; the first half of what I’m guessing is my name is covered by the fabric of his pocket.
I reach out and take it.
Andrew turns around again and his face falls.
“Camryn…,” he breathes a sad breath and looks briefly down at the floor.
“What is this?” I ask looking down at my name.
Already I’m pulling out the top flap from inside the envelope with my finger.
Andrew doesn’t answer; he just stands there waiting for me to read the contents of the note because he knows I’m going to anyway.
He wants me to.
I see the cash and leave it in the envelope without touching it and I set it aside on the foot of the bed. All I care about is the note in my hands that already is crushing my heart and I haven’t even read it yet. I look up at him and down at the note a few times before finally unfolding it.
My hands are shaking.
Why are my hands shaking?
And as I read, a hot lump wedges itself in the center of my throat. My eyes are burning with anger and hurt and tears.
“Babe, you knew this trip had to end sometime.”
“Don’t call me babe,” I snap, gripping the note tightly within my fingertips now down at my side. “If you’re leaving, you no longer have that right.”
“Fair enough.”
I glare back up at him, my face full of pain and questions and confusion. Why am I so mad, so hurt? Andrew is right: it had to end sometime, but why am I letting it affect me like this?
Tears begin to stream from my eyes. I can’t hold them back, but I’ll be damned if I let myself bawl like a baby. I just look at him, my face tight and consumed by pain and ire. My hands are clenched at my sides, the top half of Andrew’s note crushed in my fist.
“If you were leaving like this because of your father, because you needed time alone, and the number on the bottom of this note was yours instead of a ticket confirmation, then I could understand.” I raise the crushed note up in front of me and let it fall back at my side. “But to leave because of me and pretend that nothing between us ever happened…Andrew, that hurts. It fucking hurts.”
I see his jaw twitch.
“Who the hell said I could ever pretend that it never happened?” he rips the words out, clearly stung by mine. He drops the duffle bag handle and moves away from the bed toward me. “I’ll never be able to forget any of this, Camryn! That’s why I couldn’t face you!” He slashes the air between us with his hands.
I step backward and away from him. I can’t deal with this. My heart hurts too much. And I’m pissed off that I can’t make myself stop crying. I look down at the note in my hand and then back up at him and finally I walk around him to the bed and drop it down beside the envelope and the money.
“Fine. Go ahead and leave. But I’ll pay my own way home.”
I wipe my eyes and walk to the door.
“Still afraid,” he calls out behind me.
I whirl around. “You don’t know shit!” And I push open the door, dropping his extra key on the floor and go back into my room.
I pace. And pace. And pace. I want to hit a wall or tear something up, but I settle with finally bawling like a baby.
Andrew storms inside my room, letting the door smack the wall on his way in. He grabs me by my upper-arms, digging his fingers into my muscles.
“Why are you still afraid?!” Tears lace his eyes: furious, painful tears. He shakes me. “SAY WHAT YOU FEEL!”
His thunderous voice makes my body go rigid for a moment, but I shove his hands off me. I’m so confused. I know what I want to say. I don’t want him to go, but—
“Camryn!” His face is full of wrath and desperation. “Say whatever
it is that you feel! I don’t care how dangerous or stupid or hurtful or hilarious—TELL ME HOW YOU FEEL!” His voice sears through me.
He doesn’t stop:
“Be honest with me. Be honest with yourself!” His hands wave outward toward me in gesture. “CAMR—”
“I want you, goddammit!” I scream at him. “The thought of you leaving and never seeing you again tears-me-up-inside!” My throat burns like fire. “I can’t fucking breathe without you!”
“SAY IT! Son-of-a-bitch,” he says, exasperated, “just say it!”
“I want you to own me!” I can hardly stand on my own anymore. Sobs rock my entire body. My eyes sting and my heart hurts like it never has before.
Andrew grabs me, twisting my wrists together behind my back with one of his hands. He pulls my back harshly into his chest. “Say it again, Camryn,” he demands, the heat of his breath bathing the side of my neck, sending chills throughout my limbs. I feel his teeth graze the flesh just below my ear. “Fucking say it, baby.” His hand tightens painfully around my wrists.
“I belong to you, Andrew Parrish…I want you to own me….”
He coils the fingers from his other hand tightly within my hair, pulling my neck back and exposing my throat to him. He bites my chin and then down along my neck. I feel his cock pressing into me from behind through the barrier of our clothes.
“Please…,” I whisper, “don’t let me go….”
With my back still pressed into his hard body and my wrists in his hand, he slips his fingers behind my shorts and panties and tears them off. He forces me around toward the bed where my knees are pressed against the mattress and he lifts my arms above my head, slipping off my tank-top.
I don’t look behind me when I sense him kicking off his shoes and removing his clothes. I’ll only move when he allows it.
His rock-hard abs press firmly into my back. I feel his warm arms slip around my naked waist; one hand moving up to fully squeeze one breast, the other sliding down in-between my legs. My neck falls back against his chest when he slips a finger between my throbbing lips below and teases me with it. I gasp, tilting my neck back so that I can reach his mouth. His tongue snakes out to touch mine; the fleshy warm wetness of it drives me insane. He crushes his lips against mine and kisses me ravenously, to the point that neither of us can breathe. And then he forces me forward onto the bed. My hands burrow into the sheets, my fingers curling into the fabric until he presses all of his weight on my back and my arms can’t hold my body up anymore. He grabs my wrists again and pulls them around behind me, pressing himself against me.
The Edge of Never Page 27