Learning to Heal

by Cole, R. D.

  “Where?” Mason asks before I can. I’m still pissed about Chanda for absolutely no reason. I just don’t like her.

  “Jay Jay’s down on Broad Street. Never been there myself, but the party usually comes to me, not the other way around.”

  The memories from two months ago hit me and I lose my smile. So this is the band that has taken over for Benji and Blaire. God, it still seems like yesterday that we were watching them play on that stage. But then I remember Benji’s funeral and Blaire’s rage before she left town and disappeared. I know it happened, but it still sucks. Kids aren’t supposed to die, and Benji was still a kid. Of course he was fucked up, but aren’t we all? I mean look at me. A girl with everything and I hate my scarred chest that has my left breast a little off kilter. Geez, I’m such a selfish person with my pity party. Benji and Blaire lost each other, Trudy lost her son, and here I am pissed at everyone because of a fucked up boob.

  My breath hitches with these constant thoughts running in my head. Mason’s grip tightens around my waist in an embrace, but right now it’s not wanted. My overactive emotions take over and a tear slips down my cheek that I can’t hold back. My throat burns with the yearning to mourn for my friends and even myself, even though I don’t deserve it. This past Halloween night affected us all in some form; Tru losing two friends that were becoming like family, Jaxon watching Tru fall apart—which I know affected him more than he let on, me losing trust in the first guy I ever let see the real me, only for him to throw it back in my face. More tears start falling so I quickly jump up before the ever present water works start. I hate crying in front of people, especially when I know it’s going to be an ugly one. Ugh! My looks are still on my brain.

  Slamming the bathroom door, I collapse on the floor while grief takes over and shakes my body. Not caring if I’m loud, I let go. Everything is hitting me now for some stupid reason that I can’t explain, other than being pregnant. My body feels tense and ready to explode, so I bang my head on the door just to try to alleviate the hurt and rage. I hear knocking and talking in the background but my mind replays everything from Halloween night to the following week after. I hid from almost everyone in that time because I was grieving selfishly for my loss. But nobody I loved or really cared for died. They are all still around. So why can’t I get over my loss?

  I’m not sure how much time has passed when the tears stop. I feel tired, so I stand and look at myself in the mirror, hoping beyond everything I won’t see the girl I’ve been staring at for the past two months—the one who I’m disgusted to be. The one who’s stupid enough to fall for a married man. The one who’s still selfish and thinking of all these stupid things instead of worrying about anyone else for once.

  I splash water on my face to wash away the salty tears that have mixed in with my mascara. Red angry blotches are everywhere, especially my nose. I look like hell. After I’m done cleaning my face, I listen for any sign that I’m not alone. Not hearing anyone in the other room and feeling embarrassed for my female showcase of emotions, I debate on hiding for the remainder of the day or seeing if Mason and Ryan are still around. If they left I can’t blame them. I want to run from myself. The latter is the winner so I crack open the door and walk into the living room where I left them. Instead of two people I only see Mason pacing back and forth. His back is turned my way as he runs his hands through his hair and talks to himself. I can’t help but smile. He’s so quirky. I don’t know what I’d do without him. That last thought makes our arrangement come to mind and I can’t help worry about ruining us.

  Before I dwell on it too long, he turns and sees me standing there. I’m sure I still look like total shit, and I feel like the word homewrecker is tattooed on my forehead. Feeling vulnerable without makeup, I look at my bare feet. “Hi”

  “Hi.” After a few seconds with neither of us speaking he comes close enough I can see his feet come into view. “Are you okay?”

  Keeping my eyes downcast, I concentrate on his Adidas. “Yeah. Sorry about that.” I shrug my shoulders and change the subject. “Where’s Ryan?”

  “Um … I told him to leave.”

  My head comes up and my eyes widen with surprise, realizing we are alone. And there’s a bed. “Why?”

  “Well, after you ran out I explained about Benji and he felt like shit. So I gave him my keys so he could leave. I hope that’s okay. I couldn’t leave you like that. But I can get him to pick me up.” He places his hands in his front pockets and rocks back and forth on his feet nervously.

  Something melts in me with his words. He stayed behind while I cried just so I wouldn’t be alone, even when he could go hang with his friends. How many guys would do that? None. Feeling warm, I walk and lay my head on his chest while wrapping my arms around his waist and squeeze him against me. The tears start back up because of his consideration for my well-being and it just can’t be helped. Crap!

  Seeing her disheartened face with tear streaks running down her delicate cheeks breaks me. I want to make it better but I know I can’t. I hold her instead and hope that’s enough. Seeing her so broken and upset is so different than the Jazz I’m used to but no less beautiful, probably more beautiful. No make up to hide those beautiful lashes. No lipstick to cover those heart-shaped lips that cause me to lose myself when she smiles. The warmth from her tears seeps through my sweater. I hold her tighter wanting to absorb her pain. Watching my mom all these years and hearing her tears through our thin walls makes me aware that sometimes crying is needed to feel better. The pressure of life becomes so much at times that you need to relieve it. So I’ll be her shoulder. I’ll be her warmth. And I hope one day I can be her hero.

  I eventually leave later that night and head home. I need to get Grace because Mom is working. I hate it though. I’ve had Jazz all to myself today and she even fell asleep on my chest. It was the best fucking feeling—the feel of her white blonde hair sliding between my fingers and the sound of her steady breathing as she inhaled and exhaled. I hope she dreamed of me. Maybe my closeness allowed her to have good dreams and finally relax. I tried to listen to her heart a few times but it wasn’t loud enough. The urge to fix the thing that can give her to me or take her away forever is overwhelming, but I’m lost and helpless without a solution. She had curled into me, the steady rhythm of her breathing against my side, and I knew how precious this moment was. Then I felt a different vibration and realized it was my phone. Ryan was outside waiting for me. I placed a small kiss on her cheek and laid a blanket across her small body before I walked out the door. Now I lie in bed thinking about everything that has taken place the past few weeks and wonder if Jazz feels the same way about me that I do for her. And if she does, will she and I have time to explore it.

  Walking into Jay Jay’s I feel a change in the air. Maybe it’s because I haven’t been here since before Benji’s funeral, or maybe because it’s New Year’s Eve and it’s packed. Jazz’s nineteenth birthday is tomorrow but Jax and Tru are surprising her with a cake tonight. Her parents called and invited me to a party tomorrow afternoon for her, but I’m still trying to figure out if she wants me there. We’ve texted back and forth but that’s about it. Our last kiss was the day she came home from her parents and I feel like maybe she’s changed her mind. Maybe “us” is something one-sided and she doesn’t want it. The birthday gift I bought her is still in my truck, wrapped in pink—her favorite color.

  Following David and trying not to get shoved, I start to worry about Jazz in this rowdy crowd. I wish they would celebrate somewhere else instead, but Trudy had to work since she’s been out of town.

  I finally see Jazz through the crowd, and I stop and stare like a fucking moron while people shove me. It happens in slow motion like in the movies, and I know I will never forget this moment. It will go into my “Jasmine file” that’s filling up pretty fast.

  I feel sweat drip down my back as my blood heats from the look of her. Long blonde hair falls down her back. Her makeup is flawless as usual and she’s wearing her
Christmas gift I got her, but tonight she looks like she’s happy and glowing. Maybe it’s from being pregnant. Maybe it’s from the lights flashing around the room. Whatever it’s from, I’m grateful because she deserves to always be happy. She smiles when she sees me and I smile back. Straightening my spine, I make my way to the table and the girl of my dreams. Trudy is our waitress and she brings over a pitcher of beer and several chilled glasses. Jax keeps his eyes on her until she disappears and then he turns in my direction.

  “Hey, man.” He reaches his hand out and I accept it. He introduces me to a few of his teammates that showed up. I feel the overwhelming need to kiss Jazz in front of them, which is new to me. They seem nice but I still don’t like the thought of them being so close to Jazz. We’re not official and I really don’t need the added competition.

  After a few minutes of yelling my name over the music during introductions, I feel a body slide against mine and look to see Jazz looking up at me.

  “What took you so long?”

  Bending down to answer, I slide my arm around her waist. This might not be a kiss, but hopefully it has the same effect. “David’s primping. He took forever to get ready.” Smiling, my eyes wander to her pink lips. “I missed you.” Why the hell did I say that? But it’s too late to worry about what she thinks of my confession. It’s the truth. I always miss her when she’s not around me.

  Her eyes widen for a millisecond but her smile remains. “I missed you too.”

  Hell yeah! Inside I feel like dancing but I know that won’t earn me any points with her, so I squeeze her tighter. My palm spreads around her stomach and I notice her bump. Even though I didn’t help conceive the baby growing inside her, I will always love the both of them. I kiss the top of her head before I hear Ryan in the crowd surrounding the table.

  “’S’up, mothafuckas!” He runs round smacking people’s hands and some girls’ asses until he sees the death glare Jax gives him. Putting his hands up in surrender, he backs away from David and Jax and then comes toward Jazz and me. “Well hello there, Betty.”

  I roll my eyes at his nickname for Jazz. “Hey to you too. You almost got your ass kicked.” The thought has me laughing. Sometimes he needs his ass kicked.

  Running his hands through his hair, he shakes it off. “Whatever. They don’t want any of this.” He flexes his arms and kisses his muscles like an idiot. “Besides, I’m about to go on stage and blow all them assholes away.”

  Jazz laughs beside me. “Those assholes are my brothers. Or a least one is.”

  “Please tell me you’re joking, Betty. I don’t want to be related to those guys.” He puts a hand over his chest like he’s been shot, and this has Jazz bursting out more giggles.

  “Sorry. It’s the total truth.”

  “Why would you be related to her anyways?” I ask.

  Grabbing Jazz out of my arms, he picks her up bridal style. Thank God she’s wearing pants. “’Cause after I show her my moves she’ll be begging to marry me, and I can’t deny her anything.”

  He stalks away headed for the dance floor and I can’t be upset. I trust him and he knows about how I feel. Besides, Jazz is laughing and blows me a kiss that I feel in every pore on my body.

  Sitting at the table I can’t help but continually glance at Jazz as she dances with Ryan. It’s obvious to me she’s pregnant now that I watch her from the side. The white lace material clings to her bump as she moves. Then the crowd swallows her up and even in her white, knee high boots, she’s still too short to see. The thought of her pregnancy has me thinking of her heart. I turn toward Jax, who’s kissing Tru as she drops off another round. “Is all this okay for her?” I encompass our surroundings with my arms.

  “Yes and No.” He takes a gulp of his beer. “There’s no smoking in here so that’s good. But she might get tired easily so just keep your eyes on her.”

  I nod my head, feeling better, and look for her in the crowd.

  “So who’s the dick she’s dancing with?” Jax asks me. I follow his stare and see Trudy walking out toward the dance floor to bring Jazz a water.

  “He’s a good friend and the drummer to the new band Janet hired.” He just nods his head, still staring daggers Ryan’s way. “Don’t worry. He’s a good guy and has been involved in MMA stuff most of his life. He’ll protect them.”

  Right about that time I see a tall guy with a black faux hawk and tats covering his arms walk up to the girls. He grabs Trudy from behind and starts to dance. Before I can get my feet going, Jax is there and shoving him off of her. The guy has at least an inch on him, but he doesn’t back down. The music dies and the crowd makes room for a fight. I’m standing beside Jax and soon David is too.

  “What the fuck, dude? You got a death wish?” Jax is in his face ready to kill, but the guy just laughs coldly. I see a lip ring catch the light and a tattoo of a black, demonic claw on his neck. It looks so real like it’s tearing up his flesh, just as evil as this guy who’s obviously jonesing for a fight.

  “Whoa, whoa!” Ryan pushes his way between the two and turns toward the guy. “Lyric. Not. Tonight. We need you to play. Not fuck up this gig.” The big guy looks like he could eat Ryan for breakfast, but he actually seems to take his words into consideration.

  “Besides that, I can’t have you knocking the shit out of my future brother-in-law.” Ryan looks toward Jazz. “Ain’t that right, Betty? You gonna marry me now, right?”

  Jazz laughs and you can feel the tension leave the room with the sound. When she gains her composure she addresses the question. “First, buddy, you need to buy me some food ’cause I’m friggin’ starving. Then we’ll discuss marriage.” She winks and I walk over to her. Jealousy is a bitch and I’ve learned I don’t like it. I hold her close and turn back to the commotion.

  After a stare down with Jax, Lyric shakes his head and sticks his hand out around Ryan. “Sorry, man. I had no idea she was taken.”

  Jax visibly relaxes and accepts his hand and shakes it. “Well she is.” He looks at Ryan and smiles. “And apparently so is my sister.”

  Janet comes and breaks up the party and tells Ryan and Lyric they have ten minutes until show time.

  I grab Jazz and take her back to the table and away from the crowd. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m good. But I’m not the one that was grabbed. Trudy was. But I know she was ready to kick the guy’s ass.”

  She’s probably right, but I know for a fact that Lyric is nothing like Craig. From what Ryan told me the other day, he’s the lead singer and founder of their band Lyrical Obsessions, as well as a badass MMA fighter. Supposedly he did a lot of underground matches in his hometown of New Orleans, but he only trains here. I’m sure his cold stare alone could probably bring down most people in the ring. I’ll just keep that to myself for now. Ruining her birthday is not part of my plans for tonight.

  An unwanted face is sitting on David’s lap when we return to the table. Chanda sneers her bright red lips in our direction until she sees me watching her. Then she smiles like the friend I’ve always known. “Well did you two decide to actually date or are you just going for seconds, Mason?”

  “Excuse me?” Jazz and I say in unison. David turns and looks at Chanda and something happens that I never saw before. He stands up and deposits her loudly onto the floor.

  “What? Did you fuck her too?” Chanda hollers at David’s back as he walks away.

  He turns back around and looks at her like she’s worthless. “No, Babe. That’s you. Just a Fuck. She’s my sister.” He continues on his way until he reaches a group of Trudy’s friends and wraps his hand around one girl’s waist. And it’s not just any girl, but Elle from Trudy’s dance team. Then he kisses her and she doesn’t argue. It’s about damn time. He’s been pining for her almost as long as I have been pining for Jazz.

  Chanda’s face is red with embarrassment when I face her again. She has to realize she can’t come into our circle of friends and attack one. But that’s always been her problem. She doesn’
t think before she speaks or does something. A side of me sees my friend from years back and feels the urge to help her, but after what she just said about Jazz I won’t. The girl on the floor isn’t the one I used to know and has never been the same since she returned home.

  After she stomps off, I sit down and Jazz lands in my lap. I’ve never been good at reading girls, but I hope this is flirting. Soon the innocent flirting vanishes as the band starts to play and she’s dancing against me. I groan from the friction of her ass against my erection. She has to notice what she’s doing to me. After another song starts up, her hips begin to twist. I grab her by the waist, desperate to stop this torture. I put my head on the back of her shoulder trying to control my thoughts before I bust a load in my pants. “You have to stop that,” I breathe into her ear.

  “Stop what?” Her voice sounds so innocent and maybe even breathless. I can’t help but imagine her yelling out my name as I sink into her. Beating off to her vision is getting old, but if it’s what I gotta do, I’ll do it. “This?” She swivels her ass on my dick again, so I grip her hips tighter. I haven’t paid one bit of attention to the band and what they sound like because I’m getting my very first lap dance. Even if it’s an unofficial one. It still counts in my book.

  “Mmm hmm.” I look around but everyone is absorbed in the music. Thank God! My hips thrust up on their own and I feel her breath hitch. Hell yeah! She’s affected by me too. “You like that?” I don’t know anything about talking dirty, but I feel like I have to or I’ll bite my own tongue off.

  Lifting my head, I place a kiss on the side of her neck and taste her peaches ’n cream skin. I want to eat her up. My hips thrust again as she pushes down on me. My hand reaches the hem of her shirt and I feel a war inside my body raging on. Should I touch her skin or wait for her permission? Luckily she answers my unspoken question before I just do it and feel like shit when the lust-filled haze fades. She takes my hand and slides it under her shirt. The feel of her warm skin above her black tights is amazing. I’ve dreamed of feeling her skin for so long, but it’s softer and smoother than I imagined. I kiss her neck and feel her hips shift again. “If we don’t stop, baby, I am going to ruin my jeans.” I continue to thrust my dick against her ass. My hand inches up and I can feel the swell of her breast right above it begging me to touch and squeeze it. To claim it and her. However, the applause breaks through my brain and I know the band is done as well as our little session.