by Saylor Bliss
This is this beginning of the third week, and I think things have finally settled down into some semblance of a routine. Every Tuesday and Thursday, I can actually walk into the class I share with Anna and Britney without having a small panic attack. Now, when my phone dings, I don't immediately choke on the air I’m breathing. I can pull it out and read it without breaking into a sweat. I still lie in bed at night wondering, why me? But that is nothing new.
Class ends, and the teacher lets us go with a wave.
“I need to run to the bathroom,” I tell Ashlin, who is walking out right behind me. Normally, after class on Tuesday, we head to the library to get some study time in before our last class that day.
“Okay. I’ll meet you at the yogurt stand,” she says before we separate and head in opposite directions.
I’ve just finished using the restroom, and I am about to flush when I hear them walk in. Normally, I wouldn't wait, but these are the last two people I want to see right now, so I sit on the toilet and text Ashlin.
Me: I'll be a few minutes. Trapped in bathroom. Bimbo 1&2 just walked in.
Ashlin: Need help?
Me: No. Just waiting for them 2 leave.
“Can you believe she hasn't spoken to him since? I mean, WOW!” I’m not sure which one of them is talking now. I can't tell them apart. I stick my phone back in my pocket, temporarily forgotten as I eavesdrop.
“I know, right? How gullible can you be?” The second responds before her cackling laughter fills the air.
“So has he asked you out yet?”
“No. He just mopes around like a lost puppy. I swear, he wasn't this pathetic when he and Kirsten split up. Now all he does is spend his time at home or on that nasty ass field.”
“Damn. Guess the plan backfired then.”
“No. Don't give up yet. I still have something left up my sleeve.”
I tune out the rest of the conversation after I hear the name Kirsten. I can't believe it. Everything they said to me that day was a fucking lie, and I bought into it like the naive idiot I am. I never even questioned whether they were telling me the truth. In my mind, it made perfect sense. I was nothing. I didn't deserve to be happy, and I figured this was another one of the universe's cosmic slaps in the face. I wasn't allowed to be happy.
Only this time, it was all a lie.
The only person who got in the way this time was . . . me.
I should have talked to him. I should have asked. Instead, I threw away my first real chance at happiness, all because I believed the lies of two jealous sluts. How fucking stupid could I be?
I hear them washing their hands, and then the door to the bathroom swings shut. I pull out my phone and text Ashlin again.
Me: Cancel study time. Meet me at my house.
I don't wait for her reply. She will be there, and together, we will come up with a plan of attack. I am tired of being used and abused. I am sick of people running all over me just because I never fight back. I'm done. Every day, I battle with demons of my past. Demons that I'd rather stayed where I left them, but no. They creep into my mind every day, harassing me. Torturing me. And the one time I’m actually happy, some bitches ruin it. For what?
Never again.
“Are you fucking serious?” Ashlin asks after I fill her in about what I overheard in the bathroom.
“Yep! And I fell for it. I can't believe it.”
“You're not the only one. I did too. Oh my God! Poor Lucas! He has no idea what's going on.”
“I know. I was such a bitch to him, and even after that, he still tried to talk to me, which is why the first thing I'm going to do is make it up to him. I have to.”
“Eeep! I'm so excited. I really did like him. So what are you gonna do?” she asks, and I tell her my plan. Her face lights up like stars in the night sky as I go over the details.
“This is so perfect. I love it, Charlee. What do you need me to do?”
We spend all afternoon going over the plan, and the next morning, I get up early and take a little extra time getting ready. My stomach is flipping over itself, wondering what his reaction will be. I won't see him today, and that is probably for the best, but there is the chance that he will text me, and I don't know how I’ll handle it when he does. I know I need to apologize, and I will. I just hope I don't pass out from sensory overload before I get the chance.
“Ready, Freddy?” Ashlin asks, entering the kitchen. She glances up and down me with a knowing grin. “I guess so.”
I finish writing the note and pass it to her for her inspection. She nods her approval. The plan is simple. I write a message on each slip of paper and leave them where only Lucas will find them.
I draw one hundred tiny smiley faces on the first slip of paper all around the one line I write. ‘For every smile I denied you.’
On the second sheet of paper, I draw three hearts around the line, ‘For every lie I believed.’
On the third, I draw fifteen Hershey kisses. ‘For every text I ignored.’
On the forth, I draw a hundreds of birds fluttering in the sky. ‘For every moment I missed.’
On the fifth I draw a giant pair of lips, ‘For every hurt I caused.’
And on the last, I simply write, ‘I'm sorry.’ This one, I plan to give to him myself, so I pin it to the back of a stuffed camel I picked up last night and then shove it in my purse. The idea is to leave him the five notes for him to find throughout the day, and hopefully, if I haven't completely screwed up, then tomorrow, he will let me apologize in person.
“Good luck.” I yell to her as she walks out the door.
Breathe, Charlee, breathe.
After an emotional pep talk I walk out the door too. If I believed in praying, I might actually do it right now.
Chapter Twenty
Charlee
Lucas didn't text. I honestly expected him to. I know, naive. I guess some part of me held out hope that what we had shared really did mean something to him. I couldn't sleep all night, wondering if he had gotten the messages. Did he read them? Did he know who they were from? Shit, I should have signed them. God, why didn't I just call him? I should call him now.
No. I'll wait.
Today, I give him the camel. Shit! I gotta get ready. I jump from the bed and throw on the closest thing I can find to actually being clean and then run the brush through my hair and apply light makeup. I'm gonna be late.
Darting across the hall, I leave the camel on his bed and then grab Everly and head out the door before I’m late. At least I know he will put two and two together now when he finds the camel and the letter pinned to it.
He never texts.
Not once.
I feel like the room swallows me whole. I slouch down in my seat and do my best to ignore the pain in my chest, but I can't. It’s leaking outward, filling every tiny crevice of my body. I want to disappear. Just take me away, please.
Class finally ends after what seems like at least twelve hours, even though I know it's only been two, and I slowly gather my things. Everyone has already cleared out of the room by the time I finally make my way to the exit. My head is down, and I’m not really paying attention where I’m going. Thankfully, Ashlin is. She jabs me in the side, making me look up moments before I plow straight into him. I glance back at her only to see her mouth the words, I’ve got Everly. Text me later, and then she disappears, leaving me alone in the hall with Lucas. The bitch.
“Have lunch with me?” he asks, looking at the floor and shuffling back and forth on his feet. I can tell it took a lot for him to ask me that, especially after the way I acted the first week.
“Yes.” He looks up sharply. I think he really expected me to say no. I smile warmly and offer him my hand without thinking. He takes it and leads me outside to his car. I wonder where we’re going, but I don't ask. I let him drive me away from campus and try to contain the elated feeling trying to burst through my skin.
We don't go far. I'm much more focused on the way his hand feels pressed again
st mine than where he is taking me, and then I catch sight of the cast iron gate and the giant words hanging overhead. City Cemetery. I glance up at him then, wondering what the hell is going on.
“Trust me?” he asks.
I nod my head, and I realize that suddenly, I do. Against my better judgment, I do trust him.
Chapter Twenty-One
Lucas
I grab a picnic basket and a blanket from the backseat while Charlee stands next to the car nervously picking at her nails. I said I wanted to have lunch, and I know she loves picnics, but I can imagine what she is thinking. At a cemetery? She’s about to ask what on earth we are doing here when I start walking . . . and talking.
“I was eighteen when I first met Kirsten. It was June, and all the school kids had gone for home, so this place was somewhat quiet.” I look over at Charlee, making sure she is okay with the direction of this story. She nods her head for me to continue, even though I know she’d probably rather never hear another thing about Kirsten as long as she lives. I can tell she needs to hear this as much—if not more—as I need to say it, so I continue.
“I was at the creek cooling off when I first saw her. I had never seen someone so beautiful in my life. She was coming up out of the water like a Victoria’s Secret model. I know, cliché, but remember, I was just eighteen, and a virgin straight from Canada, and let me tell you, up there, we do things way different than you guys do down here. So to me, she was glorious. And to make matters worse, she actually paid attention to me. We fell in love that summer, or so I thought. I started school the next fall, and for almost three months, things were great. Maybe I was just blind. Or stupid. I don’t know. One night, Kirsten stayed home while I went out to some frat party on campus. I was about half-lit when I overheard a group of my friends laughing and joking about how they had all had turns with her. My temper got the best of me and I lost it.”
“When I confronted Kirsten later that evening, I was a bloody mess. My left eye was swollen shut, and my knuckles were so bruised, I could barely close my hands. She started crying and swearing up and down it wasn't true, then she told me she was pregnant.”
“I did the only could I knew to do. I offered to marry her. I had turned nineteen the week before. It wasn’t the ideal situation, but I had faith that we could make it work. She agreed, and two weeks later, we were married before the judge at city hall. Everything was fine for a while. It wasn't great. Somewhere along the way, I had realized the way I felt about her wasn't actually love, but a teenage boy’s idea of it. I lusted after her and the way she made me feel, but I didn't love her any more than she loved me. We grew distant. And then Cole was born.”
“He was perfect. Everything about him was pure perfection. I never thought I could love anyone as much I loved that little boy.”
We have stopped talking, and now I’m laying out the blanket and she is sitting. I know she has to have so many questions, and I want her to ask them. I want her to know the truth. The whole truth. I wait until it’s obvious that she isn’t going to comment, and then I keep on with my story, needing to purge it from my system altogether. While I talk, I help unload the basket.
“I knew that I didn't love Kirsten, but Cole was love. There is no other way to describe him. The moment Kirsten gave birth, she decided she didn't have to pretend anymore. In a way, I’m surprised she ever managed to hide who she really was, or maybe I’m just surprised that I believed it for so long. She became what everyone said she was. A whore. I bet a hundred dollars I couldn't find one guy she hadn't slept with in the entire county. It should have hurt, but it didn't.”
“I filed for divorce. I thought it was the best thing to do. She didn't care about me any more than I did her, and she didn't care about Cole either. But when I served her with the papers, she went ballistic. I didn't know what the hell overcame her. She left that day, taking Cole with her. She said if I divorced her, I would never see him again. She knew how much I loved him and that I would do anything for him.”
“I was on the phone with my lawyer, telling him to cancel the filing, when the police knocked on my door. I can't remember the days following right after that. My world collapsed in around me. She had been drinking and speeding when her car collided with the front end of a transfer truck. Cole died instantly on impact. They say he never felt anything. One minute he was there, and the next . . . gone.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Charlee
Tears are falling silently down his cheeks. I reach over and wipe them away, pulling him to me. My heart breaks for his loss. The selfishness of this woman amazes me, but it doesn't surprise me that people like her exist. After all, my own mother is cut from the same cloth. I hold his head against my chest, and for the first time, I am the one comforting someone else. My eye latches onto something directly across from him, and now I understand why we are here.
Cole Black
April 19, 2011 - July 10, 2011
Beloved Son
Lucas pulls me down next to him, laying his head next to mine. I lay my head in the crevice where his arm meets his shoulder and lay my arm across him. I can't stop the tears from falling now. I was such a bitch to him, never giving him the chance to explain himself. I can't forgive myself.
“I'm so sorry. I had no idea.” Even I know the words fall flat.
“I know. It’s ok. I kind of guessed what had happened when hags one and two doubled their efforts, trying to get me to go out with them. Those two are not the subtlest, but then your friend, Ashlin, cornered me and let me know.”
“She did?” I ask, surprised.
“Yea. You didn't know?”
“No. I had no idea.”
“Well, don't be mad at her. If it wasn't for her, you might not be here now, and I might not be kissing you.” I know he's trying to lighten the mood, and nothing makes me happier than to get off the sad subject of his son's death and the tragedy surrounding it, but then the thought of him kissing me has my pulse beating in my ear, drowning out everything else around me.
“You're not kissing me.” I laugh lightheartedly and then gasp when he flips me on my back and captures my mouth with his. I take it back. This is heaven.
My heart beats wildly, like the flapping of hummingbird wings. Lucas’s soft, warm mouth slows, and the kiss brings me down from the mountain’s edge. He pulls my lower lip into his mouth, suckling gently on it before releasing it and trailing tiny, light kisses down the edge of my jaw to my neck, where he delves deeper, making my pulse skyrocket.
My arms slink around his waist. One pulls against the back of his neck, twisting his short hair in my fingers, while the other trails along his ribcage and his taut stomach under his shirt. The lines of his abdominal muscles ripple under my fingers as I drag them down his sides.
He kisses along my neck, causing chills to break out on my arms. My breathing is heavy and shallow at the same time. Nothing else exists right now but him and the way his mouth feels on mine, the way his tongue darts in and out from between my lips, teasing mine.
I have no time to register the joy I feel from having him close to me mingled with a heavy dose of desire. I gasp in utter shock, my lips parting for his invasion. His mouth absorbs the cry of need, taking my hands and holding them prisoner above my head. His tongue continues to caress over my lips, occasionally darting between them.
I pull my hands free from his grasp and push gently against his chest, trying to resist the lure of his body on mine. I want to sink in the ground and pull him along with me. I want to keep him there with me, kissing me nonstop, but my brain won't shut off. I try to deny what my body wants. To abandon inhibition and shut out all other thoughts, but the sharp stones beneath the blanket are piercing my skin, bringing me rushing back to reality. We are in a cemetery on top of his son's grave. This isn't right.
Common sense wins the internal feud between lust and logic, and I manage to push him back a fraction. His mouth breaks from mine, our breaths panting over each other’s faces. His eyes ar
e wild with lust, reflecting the desire in my own. I find it hard to ignore the raging emotions flowing through me in this moment. My chest is heaving, and with each intake of air, my body inches closer to his. I unsuccessfully try to remind myself why this is a bad idea, but I can't deny the how much I want to ignore it. How much I want to feel right now.
He gives me a moment to gather myself, to decide if I want to stop or not. My eyes drift to his lips, slightly parted and still wet from my kiss. I want to feel his mouth on mine again. I nod my head a fraction, giving him the permission he needs. He crushes his mouth to mine. Demanding.
I instinctively move my hands over his unshaven jaw to the back of his neck and tug my fingers in the hair that curls at the base of his neck. A low moan comes from the back of his throat, bolstering my confidence, allowing me to part my lips and take more of him. My tongue entwines and dances intimately with his. A slow, seductive ballet highlighted with breathy moans and panted whimpers.
He tastes of cheese and salami from our lunch earlier. I want more. I want to soak in every part of him. To devour him from within. His hand slides down the length of my body and back up. My back arches as I wiggle underneath him, begging for his touch. He pulls back, kissing along my jaw and down my neck to the top of my breast, where he lingers for a moment before continue back up the other side. I lie beneath him, eyes closed tight, feeling every moment. His rough beard tickles my skin in the most alluring way imaginable. I'd give my first born to be able to feel it everywhere.
A raindrop falls from the heavens, hitting me right below the eye, and then another on the tip of my nose. Lucas feels them a second later and pulls back, staring deep into my soul. His breathing is labored as he tries to control the desire running through him. I feel his pain. I'm having a hard time getting my own heart to slow down to a near-normal rate. More drops of water fall around us, warning us. Then the sky opens up, and within seconds, I’m soaked through.