by A. J. Briar
Nathan shoots towards me but I right myself before he can touch me. My determination is already skating on thin ice, the last thing I need is him distorting my resolve.
“Shit, Izzy. Are you alright? Why would you stand behind a door?” Roxy half glares, half laughs at me while I regain some of my equilibrium. Nathan’s concern filled face assesses me for injuries and I can tell he’s moments away from lurching forward to check whether I’m hurt.
“Why are you here?” I defer her question with a question of my own. She waltzes in and makes herself comfortable on the bed. The vision of Roxy on Nathan’s bed makes my eyebrows knit together. A sick feeling forms in the pit of my stomach. One I struggle to shake off. I can’t bare the mental image of the two of them together.
Nathan looks between me and Roxy, before settling on Roxy, giving her a flirtatious smirk that nearly has me killing them both. I gag slightly, while rolling my eyes. If he thinks he has a shot with her, he’s deluded. I know Roxy is a slut but she’s loyal as fuck. She knows he’s off limits, and she’ll respect that. All of this is just to provoke a response out of me. Textbook Roxy. She doesn’t even answer my question. Just returns Nathan’s coy expression while settling further into his pillows, making me insanely jealous.
Unable to watch her any longer, I hightail it out of there and into the living room where Logan is standing washing the plates we’d used earlier. Roxy follows closely behind; the smell of her fruity perfume invades my nostrils. I glance back and see Nathan following, his eyes focused on me.
“You lied. You said they’d had sex, and they hadn’t.” Roxy addresses Logan as he turns to assess the situation. He wipes his hand then throws the towel at her. She dodges easily, the girl has reflexes like a cat, before whipping it back at him.
“I said they would end up fucking. Not that they already had.” They both chuckle and my blush deepens to a rosy pink. I swear this is why, these two are perfect for each other, they’re both nosy gossips with the same sense of humor.
“If you’re done making fun of us, I’d like to go now.” I plaster a fake smile on my face and grab my things together. Roxy murmurs something under her breath, which I can’t hear but she heads towards the door anyway.
Logan pulls us both into a bone crushing hug then shows us out. Just as we’re about to leave, Roxy shouts out behind her.
“Bye Nathan. Next time yeah?” She winks and I don’t stop myself from shoving her out of the door. She’s purposely winding me up now and I stare her down, setting her on fire with my mind. I flash a quick look back to Nathan, who is staring at me, an unreadable expression on his face. I wave sheepishly, grateful that he doesn’t grace Roxy with a response. Roxy skips to her car and I almost decide to ditch her and walk. I love her, but that final remark was uncalled for. Reluctantly, I get in, and don’t bother to hide my anger.
“Come on Izzy. You know I’ve done you a favor here.” My head swivels to her and I draw my eyebrows together, perplexed to how she could ever come up with that conclusion. She throws me some serious side eye and huffs.
“How’re you feeling right now?” I grunt a response at her because she knows exactly how I’m feeling at the moment.
“Exactly. You’re pissed at me for flirting, when normally it doesn’t bother you. I flirt with anything that moves and you never bat an eyelid. The fact I’ve flirted with Nathan, and you’re fuming, must tell you that you care about him. More than I think you’re willing to let on.” Her words resonate through me. I know she’s right; I’m just too stubborn to admit it. It still pisses me off imagining them together but fuck it if I’m ready to face the clusterfuck of reasons why I feel like that.
The rest of our journey home is made in silence as I mull everything over. I’m about to head to bed when Roxy stops me.
“Izzy James. Talk to me right now. Tell me what you’re thinking so I can understand.” She pulls me to the couch, and then crosses her legs, while still holding my hand. The action is comforting, and I know I can trust her with everything from my past. She knows majority of it, considering one drunken night a year ago, had me spilling my guts to her. But I still carry around things, I haven’t spoken to anyone about, other than Isla.
“I’m scared of remembering Rox.” I sigh and close my eyes, pouring my heart out to her. “Every time I remember, it takes me back to that exact moment. You can’t imagine how overwhelming it is, to remember feelings and thoughts that I honestly never thought I’d think of again. Isla told me about what I’d gone through and it terrifies me to remember half of the shit that happened. Do I want to remember being attacked? Hell fucking no. But I don’t seem to be able to control these memories, especially now with Nathan being here.” Roxy pulls me towards her, her face full of worry while I continue explaining. “I put on this exterior that I’m strong, but I’m really fucking not. I know how much of a coward I am, and I don’t know whether I want to continue remembering all the pain and hurt I went through.” I blink back tears, not wanting to break down in front of Roxy. She grabs the box of tissues anyway and hands me one.
“Girl let it out. I don’t even care that you’re an ugly crier, you need this.” I snort at her insult, knowing that she’s only speaking the truth. Letting the tears fall, I allow all the emotions I’ve been feeling, through the dam I’d built so high. Roxy pulls me in an awkward side hug while I sniffle into her shoulder. I mumble a thank you to her just as she releases me to face me head on. She steals a deep breath in before she speaks.
“Have you ever thought that maybe remembering all the hurt, might be worth it, if you get to remember all the love?” Her voice wobbles but she stares me down. I shake my head, not even sure how to respond. My mouth opens, but no words come out while my brain tries to reason with what she is saying. She’s probably right, Roxy normally is. But at this moment, I can’t think. I don’t want to think. It’s been mentally exhausting telling her my inner fears and I just want to curl up and try to go to sleep. Telling her as much, she lets me go and insists that if I need her, she’s only a room away.
I wave her off, and head to the solace of my bed, praying that I’ll be able to switch off enough to get a decent night’s sleep. My worries and fears are put aside when I close my eyes and sleep a dreamless slumber.
The deafening tones of Roxy’s indie music wakes me, and I sit up in alarm. I glance around and mentally curse her for waking me up. Deciding to start the day off right, I quickly change into my work out gear and head out for a run. Bypassing Roxy’s open door, I flip her the bird, which she chuckles at, before I plug in my headphones and drown out the world.
By the time, my head is clear, I’ve been running for an hour and need to get back. I shower, change, and grab my stuff in record time, sliding into my seat in class, only a few minutes late. Luckily, the professor is late too, so I’m off the hook. I definitely don’t need her hating on me anymore than she already does. Logan is sitting in our usual seats with an iced frappuccino waiting for me. The guy knows me well and I’m forever grateful for the caffeine buzz it gives me.
“You do realize that the frap is a bribe.” I pout and mock give him it back, which he refuses. His puppy dog eyes draw me in, and I damn well know I’m being played.
“What do I have to do?” I try my best to be mad, but I’m not really.
“Come to our first game. Maybe bring Roxy?” He tacks the Roxy bit on the end, and I intuitively know why he’s trying to sweet talk me into going. He probably does want me there, but he wants her there more. I swear, the guy is a glutton for punishment, it’s like a recovering alcoholic living next to a bar. A nasty feeling settles in the pit of my stomach, I’m unsure how this will pan out, but knowing Roxy, she’ll probably surprise me at every turn.
“I’ll try and make sure she’s there.” I should feel more guilty that I’m pimping out my best friend for coffee, but I don’t.
Ten minutes later, the professor walks in and the lesson begins. I honestly really do try and focus on what she teaches, but
by the end of the class, I barely recall any of it. I spent most of it, thinking about the game and whether I should go. Of course, I want to support Logan and the team, but that includes Nathan.
I come to the conclusion that I can’t ignore him forever, considering I need him for this stupid article. Especially since good old professor ball buster expects a first draft of our article in two weeks’ time, which is absolutely ridiculous, considering she’s only just set it. I nudge Logan, asking how his article is going, since he wasn’t here when we received it.
“It’s going, slowly. She let me choose one of the volleyball chicks, seen as I wasn’t here to pick.” He throws a cocky smirk my way and I roll my eyes in response. Of course, our professor let him choose who he wanted. No doubt his article will rock too. I thank him for my frap and we head our separate ways.
That evening, I try and get a head start on my article, thinking about how I’m going to approach this. I don’t have much to work on, apart from the basics. As I type I realize everything I’ve typed so far is mundane. I’m basically writing his wiki page and I’m sure that would earn me a big fat fail. I need a better angle and I need to think fast. Closing my eyes, I think about what I look for when I read anything. It needs to draw the reader in, making me think what draws me to Nathan. My first thought should be his looks; but it’s not. The mystery surrounding the past few years, pulls me in and I find myself wanting to know more about what brought him here. I flash my eyes open and realize I have the content I want to write about; now, I just need to find it.
8
Nathan
Two days. Two whole fucking days I’ve spent fantasizing about Isabella’s ability to make me forget who I am, with just the touch of her lips. I swear when I saw the recognition dawn on her as she spied the tattoo on my chest, I nearly lost all reason. Her eyes fluttered closed but I knew she was recalling another memory of our time together. I don’t even think she realized that she was mouthing the words I spoke to her that night, which snapped my already too thin resolve. Nothing could’ve stopped me from claiming her once again. When she wrapped her legs around me, I nearly lost it right there and then. Her groans have played on repeat in my head, providing me with a constant distraction.
Hearing her say that it meant nothing was like a knife to the heart, though seeing how angry she was when Roxy flirted with me, is enough to placate me, that maybe Isabella isn’t being entirely honest with herself. It was a risky move to reciprocate Roxy’s advances, but I was hoping that Isabella would cave. Instead, it’s had the opposite effect, she’s completely ghosted me since. I mean it’s only been a few days, but still, it feels like fucking forever.
“Fucking hell Nathan, get your head out of the clouds and focus.” Logan’s voice brings me back to the present, just in time to feel a pen ricochet off my head. I launch it back at him, although the dude has a point. I have been sat here for an hour, thinking of nothing but Isabella, when I should really be paying attention to the lesson.
Pushing her to the back of my mind, I put all my attention into listening and taking notes. Fuck, if anything goes in, but at least no more pens are fired at my head. I’m just grateful it was only a pen and nothing more. The dude’s been frosty as fuck, after over hearing Roxy flirtatious comments the other night. Despite me telling him it was nothing but a wind up, I think he’s still slightly pissed at me. My phone vibrates and I discreetly read the incoming message.
Rory: Impromptu practice. Gym court. 4pm.
Glancing up, I see Logan checking his, a grimace marks his expression before he sighs loudly. There goes our only rest day this week. Rory seems hell bent on finding every possible moment to practice, so we’re ready for our first game at the weekend. Which I get, whether we win or lose falls on his shoulders as captain, so the dudes necessarily gonna be stressed. I reply with the thumbs up emoji, then slip my phone away, keeping my thoughts to myself. Logan echoes my movements, before turning his attention back to the textbook in front of him. I do the same, but by the end of class, I have no idea what’s been said or done. I only realize it’s the end when Logan’s begins to pack his stuff away, bringing me out of the Isabella induced daze I’m in. Following him out, I nod bye to him as we split up to go our separate ways. I’m incredibly jealous he gets to spend the next hour with Isabella, knowing they share a class together. I tamp down my ridiculousness and head across campus towards my next lesson.
A flash of raven hair draws my attention, so I stop, in the hope that attached to her side might be Isabella. When my eyes scan the area, and come up blank, disappointment flows through me. Roxy approaches anyway, apprehension written all over her expression, which I’m sure is reflected back at her.
“Have you seen it?” Confusion mounts inside, as I have zero fucks what she’s talking about. I must say it out loud, because her eyebrows raise, and her mouth turns down at the corners. She looks around us, before grabbing my arm and pulling me over to a nearby bench.
“I need to talk to you.” Her hands land on my shoulders, pushing me to sit. “You should be sitting for this.” Her words give me little confidence, and my patience is hanging on by a thread.
“What the fuck is going on?” I struggle to keep the malice out of my tone, but there’s only one reason why Roxy would need to speak with me, and that alone, is enough to have my heart thump erratically out of my chest. Roxy pulls out her phone and scrolls for a second, before turning it around to show me. I swear my eyes must bug out of my head, while my heart splinters in two, as I’m faced with a picture of Isabella and Rory. They’re sat facing each other but that’s not what bothers me. The fact Rory’s got his hands all over her, while she is leaning into his touch really irks me. Especially when I notice that she’s wearing that fucking summer dress from the other day in the library, meaning that this was probably taken at some point that day. My chest heaves, trying to control the anger that is currently running havoc through my veins. Flashbacks of being in this exact position play over and over again in my mind, same girl, different guy. Although last time was entirely staged, I’m not sure whether this is real or not. I look again closely, noting his grasp on Isabella’s face and my mind reels at all the possibilities. The more I look at it, the irater I become. Comment after comment saying that they’re together and what a cute couple they make. Even some hateful ones directed towards Isabella make my blood boil. I’m torn between needing to find Isabella and demand she explains what the fuck is going on and wanting to find Rory and rearrange his face. Roxy must sense the direction my thoughts are taking me, as she speaks for the first time, breaking the silence between us.
“I’m sure it’s not what it looks like.” Her tone lacks her usual sass, filling me with nothing but dread. The fact she sought me out speaks fucking volumes about the situation. “I know my brother and he wouldn’t go there with Izzy. Sure, he’d liked to, but Izzy’s never gone there. She’s been shooting him down since day one.” Roxy’s words echo around my ears and the annoyance I’m feeling, intensifies to a point where my entire body shakes.
“Shit, I shouldn’t have said anything.” Knowing I shouldn’t let Roxy feel bad about telling me, I force my brain to respond.
“No, it’s alright. I’m glad you did.” She gives me some serious side eye, while pocketing her phone.
“If it makes you feel better, I really think there’s more to it than what’s being shown in that picture.” Her whiskey-colored eyes pin me with a steely gaze, letting me know that she’s just being honest.
“A picture speaks a thousand words, Roxy.” I grit my teeth together, imagining all sorts of scenarios involving Rory and Isabella together. All of which, I wish I could scrub from my brain.
“A picture can also be misconstrued entirely by the powers of social media, Nathan.” Her words linger in the air, as she spins on her heels, leaving me with nothing but my own heavy breathing and incensed thoughts. The urge to find out exactly what’s going on with them, overpowers every other thought to a point where my
mind struggles to focus on anything but them. Any attempt of trying to soothe the anger inside, is fucking fruitless.
After spending all afternoon, walking aimlessly around campus, my mind is still hyper fixated on Isabella and Rory. Every carefully laid plan of keeping my cool at practice, is thrown out of the window, when I walk into the locker room, to whispers of Isabella’s name. I toss my bag down, quickly side-eyeing the guys to see if Rory is around. Considering he called this extra practice; I’m pissed he’s not here yet.
Shrugging my jersey over my head, I pull out my phone, needing something to distract myself from the impending doom I feel. A chorus of cheers interrupts my cogitations, as Rory enters, with Logan hot on his heels. Revulsion works up my throat, and subconsciously, my head bows and my fists clench. I hear Logan before I see him.
“You alright dude?” Tremors shake through my body, while I articulate an answer. I can’t exactly say that I’ve seen a picture of his best friend and my ex circulating which has made me become a jealous, pissed off dick with a severe attitude problem. Instead, I jerk my head in a resemblance of a nod and focus on controlling the resentment I feel towards Rory.
We’re just about to head out onto the court when I hear Isabella’s name again. One of the dudes, Cole, I think, elbows Rory in the ribs and makes a crude gesture, which I’m sure is supposed to resemble fucking Isabella. Rage unleashes through my body, meaning I edge closer to hear Rory’s response.
“You know me, I don’t kiss and tell. It’s always the chicks that do th-” I don’t even let him finish speaking, before I’m charging at him. A blind frenzy takes over my movements, fueling my punches. I have to hand it to Rory, it’s not long before he returns jab for jab. He gets in a lucky shot, splitting my lip, just as the team wrestle us apart.
“What the fuck man? What’s your problem?” Rory’s breaths are heavy, but he manages to spit out the words, along with a mouthful of blood. One of his eyes is swollen shut along with his nose, that is trickling blood onto his lips. I’m about to answer when Coach’s booming voice bounces off the walls on the locker room.