by Xana Jordan
“You should have expected this before you sat down. You’ve eaten with us enough to know how things can get.” Tavon nods his head, as does Dillon, in agreement.
“I’d think you’d be immune to it by now, since you’ve been around Cade so much,” Noel says. He should know. They’ve been best friends since they were kids, and is never surprised with what comes out of Cade’s mouth. Not that I’ve seen, at least.
“I can’t help it. Apparently, I’m easily amused.” She grins widely at the guys, and they laugh with her.
Dillon bends his head and shakes it slowly. “We’ve corrupted another one. There’s no hope for you now, Mal.”
“Aww, don’t feel bad. Someone has to be able to put up with y’all. You’re just lucky it’s me.” She winks at him before laughing with the rest of us.
Wanting to change the subject, I turn to Mallory and say, “Why aren’t you still at work? Aren’t you supposed to close this week?
“Yeah, but we were slow. One of the other girls needed more hours and volunteered to stay. I wasn’t about to pass that up.” I don’t blame her. She’s been working a lot of overtime to make up for being gone for a week. She’s let other girls have off since they were going to need to cover her shift next week.
Conversation resumes around the table, and before we know it, it’s time to put our trays away and head out. As I look around, I notice there are only about twenty people left in the cafeteria. I can see the cafeteria workers eyeing our table, waiting for us to leave so they can clean it and be done for the day.
“We’d better get going before we get kicked out. I didn’t realize it was almost eight thirty.” Standing up, I gather my things and help Mallory with hers. The other guys agree and start picking up their trays to leave along with us.
Once we exit the dining hall and walk up to the sidewalk, Mallory and I part from the rest of our group and head to her dorm.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come to Galveston with us? It will be a lot of fun.” Mallory looks up at me, her bottom lip stuck out in an attempt to get me to change my mind.
“I’m sure it will, but I don’t think me going is a good idea, for anyone.” She’s bugged me about going for the past week, and I’m running out of ways to politely excuse myself without having to tell her the truth.
“Oh, come on. Of course it’s a good idea! You should be there with us and you know it,” she argues, pulling on my hand to stop me from crossing the street. Looking at those pouty lips of hers stirs something inside me. Thinking about her letting Keaton kiss those lips instead of me pisses me off.
“I’m not changing my mind, so stop asking,” I tell her rather harshly. I don’t want to yell at her, but I’m more jealous than I’d like to admit, and getting madder by the minute.
“Please come, Gavin. Why don’t you want to go?” The look of confusion and hurt on her face doesn’t help my mood. I hate making her feel that way, but me hiding my feelings is for the best right now.
“Look, it doesn’t matter why. I’m just not going, alright? What else do you want me to say?” I yank my hands away from her and place them in my jacket pocket. Staring at her, I inhale deeply so I can try and reign in my temper. Why the hell won’t she just let this whole thing drop? Why is it so important that I go?
“I want the truth! Dammit, I know there is something you’re not telling me.” Her hands move to her hips and she takes another step closer to me. “Tell me.”
Before I can stop myself, my mouth takes over, “Truth? You don’t want the truth.”
“Yes, I do!”
“Fine! You want the truth? The truth is that your boyfriend is a cheating, lying asshole who doesn’t deserve you, and the thought of him kissing you makes me want to punch something! You can try and cover for him and make excuses for him not calling and never coming to see you, but I saw those pictures! He’s cheating on you!” I’m interrupted from my tirade when her hand connects with my face. I should have expected that.
“How dare you! Keaton isn’t cheating on me! He would never do that to me!” Her voice is loud enough to echo off of the buildings behind us, causing several people across the street turn in our direction, but there is a tremble to it that is unmistakable.
“I’ve been where you are, and I know what I’m talking about! You aren’t number one for him anymore, and he’s too much of a coward to tell you differently, or maybe he’s just an idiot that can’t see what’s right in front of him. I’m not going to Galveston just so I can watch him hold and kiss you when I am the one who should be doing those things with you! I’m the one that thinks about you all the time, the one who can’t get you out of my head, no matter what I try. You’re number one for me, Mallory!” My heart is beating wildly, and my breathing has increased just as much. What did I just say?
Shocked by what I’ve just said, she takes a step backward and her hand flies to her open mouth. Her head begins to shake, and tears slowly trickle down her face. “No, you’re wrong about him. He loves me,” she says, her voice not nearly as confident as she intends.
“I know the signs, Mallory,” I respond, my voice losing a bit of the edge it had before. “I’ve been where you are, and I’m telling you the truth. His feelings for you have changed. Maybe he doesn’t realize it, but you have to see that!”
“Stop, just stop, Gavin. I can’t do this with you anymore,” she cries, turning to dash across the street to her dorm.
“SHIT!” Running my hands through my hair, I yank it as hard as I can in frustration while watching her run through the dorm doors.
Completely pissed about what just happened, I turn and start running towards the gym. Working out usually calms my mind, and a clear mind is what I desperately need right now. Why in the hell couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut and make up some lame excuse instead of giving myself verbal diarrhea?
The last two days have been exhausting. Mallory and I haven’t spoken since our fight Wednesday night. They all left early Friday afternoon and I didn’t leave until the following morning. I didn’t have a terribly long drive, but I wasn’t really in any mood to drive on Friday.
I’ve spent most of the week with several high school friends down in San Antonio. Our parents are good friends and decided to spend some of the break with us and our younger siblings. We’ve all had a good time, even though it’s humid enough to kill an elephant. I’ve never been more thankful our coach makes us workout in a gym without air conditioning and just a fan. If he didn’t, this would be way worse than it is.
It’s Thursday and our time in San Antonio has come to an end, leaving me to think about Mallory and her birthday tomorrow. I want nothing more than to be there to share it with her, but with us not exactly speaking at the moment, that isn’t looking likely to happen. I found something for her while I was shopping with my family one day along the Riverwalk. It was in this trendy little touristy shop, which my mother always seems to gravitate to, where I found it.
We were looking around for one of the items on Mom’s ‘need-to-find gift list’ when I saw it on one of the displays in the toy section. A plush M&M keychain caught my attention and screamed her name at me, Mallory Martin, my M&M. The fact that it happened to be yellow sealed the deal for me. I worried about how she would interpret it, and whether or not she would even accept it after the fight we had about her boyfriend. Finally, I just said screw it and bought it, along with a bright yellow gift bag and matching tissue paper to wrap it in. I was going to give it to her, regardless of whether she was still mad at me or not, and just maybe she’d keep it.
After we arrive back home, I decide to head over to the local gym and get a good workout in and clear my head. I had a great time this week with my family, but my thoughts were always on Mallory, and I really need just a few hours of thinking about something else.
Three hours at the gym yesterday didn’t do much to remove thoughts of her from my head, but it did wear me out enough that I went to sleep quickly, sleeping like the dead. After taki
ng a shower to wake myself up and eating a late breakfast, I decide to text Mallory and wish her happy birthday. It’s almost lunchtime so she should be awake by now. She may still be mad at me, but I don’t give a shit.
ME: Happy Birthday M&M. I hope you’re having a great time. :)
There isn’t an immediate response, so I place my dishes in the sink and walk to the living room to watch television with my brother and sister. They’re watching some movie on Netflix I haven’t heard of, but I’m not really paying attention to it, so it doesn’t matter to me.
Sitting on the other end of the couch from GiGi, I settle in and try to relax for awhile. My attempt is thwarted when she brings up the topic I’ve been avoiding all week. “Who did you buy that gift for? Is she your girlfriend?” Can’t she just mind her own business for once?
“No, she isn’t my girlfriend. She’s just someone I hang out with at school,” I inform her, praying against hope that she will drop the subject.
“But you like her,” GiGi says in that annoyingly innocent voice of hers, dragging out the word like.
“Of course he does. He wants her to be his girlfriend. Why else would he buy her a gift if she’s not his girl. He only buys us gifts because he’s expected to.” Carson laughs, amused at his own words and GiGi grins wider than before. I haven’t missed this part of having siblings.
“Yeah, and you two can expect that to stop if you keep this up,” I warn, throwing a pillow at his face, which he catches.
“Ooooh, so touchy,” he laughs and throws the pillow back at me, but falls short.
“Awwe, what’s her name, Gavy? You know you want to tell us,” GiGi teases, and I swear if I could disown them, I would.
“I don’t want to tell you two anything. It’s not as big a deal as you’re making it out to be,” I insist, grabbing the remote and pulling up the guide.
“Hey, we were watching that!” Carson throws another pillow trying to get me to stop messing with their movie.
“Didn’t sound like it to me with the way you were more interested in a gift I bought.” I grin and raise my brow to him, daring them both to argue with me.
“Just tell us her name, and I promise we’ll drop it, won’t we Cars?” GiGi looks over to our brother, silently pleading with him to go along with her. He reluctantly nods, clearly not pleased at having to drop his harassment of me.
“Sooo, what’s her name, Gavy?” My sister looks over at me with those big brown eyes of hers, the ones that got me to do her bidding when we were children, and I cave.
“Mallory. Now drop it. That’s all there is to say.” Turning back to the television, I close the guide and place it on the side table next to me.
Satisfied with my answer, for now I’m sure, we give our attention back to the movie on television, and I let myself become absorbed in the ridiculous plot so my brain can have some time free of Mallory.
An hour passes, and then three, and I have no response from Mallory. I suppose they’re out doing something for her birthday. I’m glad they’re doing that for her. She deserves a day that is all about her. She’s always helping other people out, forgetting about herself in the process.
We’re halfway through dinner when my phone chimes with a text message. Mom forces us to leave our phones on the bar until we are finished eating, so it’s a few more minutes before I am able to see if it is Mal who has texted me.
“You kids help clear the table for your mom before you leave the table,” Dad instructs us, and we all respond with a simultaneous ‘yes sir’ and continue eating. I’m not even sure why he reminds us to do it. It isn’t like it’s something we’ve never heard before, or didn’t have ingrained in us from birth.
Standing up to gather my plate and the empty bowl of mashed potatoes, I excuse myself from the table and take the dishes to the kitchen to put them away. Having rinsed my plate, silverware and the potato bowl, I set them in the dishwasher, and take my phone from the counter. Looking at the caller ID as I walk to my bedroom, I see that Mallory is finally returning my text.
M&M: Thank you. I didn’t think you’d remember.
ME: Of course I remembered. Do anything good?
And I get radio silence once again for two more hours. They must have gone out to eat since it’s already past dinner time. At least she texted me back, and didn’t shut me out completely. That’s a step in the right direction, for now. Her silence still bothers me, and that just cements my decision to head back to SAU a little earlier than planned. Hopefully, getting back to my dorm room and hitting the gym, not to mention some physical distance, will take my mind off of Mallory and Keaton.
Deciding to go back to school a little early this morning has given me plenty of time to think on the seven hour trip. Fortunately, the traffic isn’t too bad and I am able to let the music distract me while I drive, making the time go by faster.
I’m almost back to Magnolia, when I receive a text from Mallory.
M&M: We’re leaving today. Are you coming back tomorrow?
ME: No, I’m about an hour from school. Y?
M&M: I just couldn’t remember.
ME: Come over when you get in?
M&M: K
I leave the conversation where it is, and finish my drive back to campus. I was able to get all of my laundry done at home and Mom sent me back with a lot of groceries and snacks, so all I have to do when I get there is put my things away and relax. The gang’s drive from Galveston isn’t nearly as long as mine, so they should be back on campus in only a few hours. Something seems off with Mallory’s text, and it leaves me puzzled as I wait for her to get back.
It’s six o’clock when she calls me from the lobby to come check her in. Steven isn’t back from Pine Bluff yet, so I take my keys and lock the door before making my way to meet her. People are starting to trickle back to campus from the break, but the halls are still fairly empty. I expect them to be a whole lot busier tomorrow.
She is talking to the guy on duty at the check in desk when I arrive, and I notice that her eyes seem to be a little puffy, if not a light red. Has she been crying? Making our way back to my room, she seems to be nervous enough about something to turn around and leave, so I take her hand in mine and squeeze it gently, smiling at her in the process. Returning my smile, though half-heartedly, she returns my squeeze and moves just a touch closer to me.
Unlocking the door with my free hand, I let her enter first and lock the door behind us. Nervous fidgeting has never been something Mallory is prone to do, but she’s doing it now.
“What’s wrong? You’re not acting like yourself?” I sit back on my bed up against the headboard and Mallory sits on the foot of the bed, facing me.
“Here,” she says quietly, then finds something on her phone before handing it to me.
“What am I looking at,” I begin until I turn the screen to me where I can see a video ready to play. In the frozen frame appears to be some party.
“Push play.”
Watching the video play before my eyes is much like watching a car accident in slow motion. You hope beyond hope that the car misses the other vehicle, but deep down, you know there is no stopping the collision. Keaton is at some party, or some type of gathering, attached to a girl, who is clearly not Mallory, and his hands are all over her. Keaton and the unknown female are very into what they are doing, and eventually he picks her up at the waist, her legs wrapping around him, and carries her down a hallway.
Whoever is taking the video, starts to follow them down the hallway, and eventually stops in front of the closed door to the room where Keaton took the girl. A few moments pass before the phone is held up to the door and various sounds are now audible. The clearest sound is the girl calling out Keaton’s name. Holy DAMN!!
Raising my eyes to look at her face, I can see tears welling up in her eyes. My hands are gripping her phone tight enough to make my knuckles turn white and my hand ache. Releasing my grip, I hand the phone back to her. “Maybe it’s not really him,” I offer, praying I’m
right so she won’t shed a tear.
“I’m sure. He left the beach house yesterday morning, saying he had to go to a football team meeting and practice,” she pauses, looking down at the comforter under her criss-crossed legs while pretending to pick non-existent lint from it. “Then he texted last night to say he was too tired to drive back to the house so he was going to spend the night at the dorms. I tried to call and just talk to him, even texted a few times, but he never answered any of them.”
“Maybe he just crashed after a long practice,” I suggest, trying to explain away his absence and lack of communication, even though I know damn good and well everything in that video is from last night and Keaton is guilty of everything she saw.
Hearing my reasoning, she jerks her head up to face mine, and says, “No. Those are the clothes he was wearing when he left yesterday. You were right about him cheating on me, all of it, and I just didn’t want to admit it. I still don’t, but I can’t overlook that video. You can clearly see Keaton in it, and exactly what he is doing.” Tears fall freely from the corners of her eyes, and I automatically wipe them away.
“I mean, I know we are pretty far apart at school, and that makes things harder, but why didn’t he say anything to me? Why did he plan to be with me over Spring Break if he wanted to be somewhere else?”
“Because he’s an idiot,” I ask with a laugh, hoping to lighten up the mood, and it helps make her smile, even though it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I wish I knew what he was thinking, but only he can answer that. Have you talked to him today?”
“I didn’t want to hear his voice,” she shakes her head. “He didn’t even tell me Happy Birthday.” Her lip begins to quiver and more tears threaten to fall. Son of a bitch.
Reaching over to grab the small gift bag sitting on my desk, I hand it to her and she looks at me in confusion. “Happy Birthday,” I say, nodding for her to see what’s inside.