“I can’t,” I mumble.
“I want you to,” he demands as his eyes harden.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” His head shakes swiftly. “I just want you to myself. I want to start something with you and see how far we can take it.”
I frown. “You mean a relationship? You want me to commit myself to you already?”
His lips press and there is a brief pause before he nods. “It doesn’t have to be right away. We can just date like we did tonight if that will help you get comfortable with me. We don’t have to rush it.”
I pull away from him to sit up. “I don’t get it.”
“What is there not to get, Natalie?” His voice cranks in volume as his grey eyes beam holes through me. “It’s obvious that I want you and I find it beyond obvious that you want me. You can only resist my offer for so long. I want you to fall for me, just like I want to fall for you. I can already feel it happening. I want to change.”
My head whips to look at him. “What do you mean change?”
He rubs the back of his neck nervously. There is a still silence in the room and his mouth twitches, as if he doesn’t want to speak on it anymore. “Every relationship that I’ve had, I’ve . . . fucked up in.”
“What do you mean?” I ask quickly.
“I mean . . .” He pauses and I can tell that whatever he is about to say is going to destroy our entire night. “I mean that I’ve messed up a couple of times by . . . cheating.”
“What?” My face twists as I pull away from him. “And you expect me to want more with you?”
“Just hear me out,” he says while reaching for my hand. “When I was a freshman in high school, that’s when it started. But when I dated my last girlfriend, that’s when I realized that the only reason that I do it is because of them. I would fall for them too much and think that they would never hurt me but all of them did. I cheated because they cheated. I always felt that it was fair. I wanted to hurt them back.”
I shake my head. “But what does this have to do with me, Nolan?”
“Everything, Natalie.” He clutches my hand but I pull away. He hesitates but that doesn’t stop him from sliding in closer. “You were hurt, I was hurt. There is no reason to cheat but I want to start over with someone that understands my pain.”
“I can understand your pain but I don’t understand why you cheat. Cheating is unacceptable in any relationship, Nolan.”
“I know.” His head falls as he pulls his hand away.
I groan as I stand. I can’t go through with this with him. I actually did want to give him a shot at something but now that he’s told me this, it’s a definite no for me. I can understand being hurt but to cheat period is a huge violation. There is no need for it. I seriously can’t tolerate a cheater and imagining more with him frightens me now. I can’t do this.
“I feel as if you can help me,” he mumbles.
“I can’t help you, Nolan. I’m sorry. I seriously don’t know what I would do if I actually did give you more and you ended up ruining it.”
“But I wouldn’t!” He stands to his feet with me. “I wouldn’t hurt you because I know that you can change me.”
My eyebrows furrow. “How can I change you?”
“Because . . . while I’m with you, I can’t seem to want anyone else. Trust me, I’ve tried to get you off of my mind plenty of times but none of the girls that I’m introduced to can live up to my satisfaction.”
“I’m sure you’ve said that to the other girls that you’ve cheated on. I’m sure there was one in the bunch that actually wanted to make it work with you but you took her for granted.” My eyebrows pull upward.
His mouth seals tight as his eyes broaden. He stares into my irises but I shake my head because his silence answers it all. Even if a girl is faithful to him, he still cheats on her. Just as Bryson did to me. And he really expects me to believe in him?
“Maybe you should just go,” I mumble as I cross my arms over my chest.
“Natalie—”
He reaches for me but I back away. “Nolan, please.”
He stares at me with eyes as wide as golf balls. They’re glistening but I refuse to look into them any more than I have to. I can’t do that with him. I can’t go on a date with someone that I know is a cheater and may have the possibility of destroying my heart even more.
“I wanted to tell you the truth about me before we got too far,” he says. “I wanted to start fresh with a clean slate and let you know all about my flaws before you had ended up discovering them. But if you want me to leave, I will. I can see why you don’t want to be involved with me anymore.”
As he steps in to kiss my cheek tenderly, heat sparks throughout my entire body and my heart pumps quickly but I don’t fall for it. I can’t fall for it. I want to pull him back on my bed and kiss him longer but I find the will to hold off.
Stepping around me, he makes his way out of my bedroom door. I listen as the front door creaks open then clicks shuts and I know for sure that he is gone. My chest constricts and my throat seems to close in but I hold off on the tears.
Rushing for my bathroom, I start the shower and let the water run over me for about fifteen minutes before I finally decide to get out. But there is not a second that goes by that I don’t go over that entire conversation in my head. I should have known that he was too good to be true. Maybe he’s having troubles that are hard to fix. Maybe he really can’t control it. Either way, I can’t accept him into my life—into my heart. If I do, I’m just asking to be hurt again. It’s best to just keep Nolan at a distance. I’m going to regret the hell out of forgetting about someone as beautiful as him but I have no choice.
I refuse to break again.
Chapter Eleven
The past two weeks have dragged and not one of those days have I seen or heard from Nolan. Although I wasn’t expecting him to, I was only hoping that he would maybe show up at my doorstep or at least call. But he hasn’t and that only makes me angrier. I’m not sure why it makes me angry but anger only proves that I did feel something for him that I shouldn’t have.
I’m hurt that he is the way he is. I was actually starting to have fun and forget about Bryson for a slight moment. But that moment only lasted for a second. Now, I can’t seem to go a day without comparing the two.
My phone buzzes on my night stand and I groan as I reach for it. Checking the name on the screen, my eyes slightly widen as I perk myself up.
Mom.
Shit. I haven’t called her since the first night that I’ve been here . . . but I have my reasons. I’ve called my dad and kept him updated. I just hope that he actually passes the news on to her. My father is a lot easier to talk than my mom. My mother confuses me sometimes. I’m never sure of what she wants. When I’d told her that I don’t plan on going to a four-year college, she went bat-shit crazy on me. She shouted at me for hours and she didn’t talk to me for a whole week.
I told her that I wanted nothing more than to write and, with experience, I’ll only get better. I’m aiming to write poems that I hope people will love to read one day. But she obviously doesn’t understand that. She believes that I’m wasting my time and that I could do better if I went off to college and faced reality. But I believe that my dreams will become my reality. I just need time.
My father understands my dreams completely. He supports my every decision because he had dreams as well. My father wanted to be a mechanic. He didn’t have much money when he had started but now he makes more than enough. He started fixing cars when he was younger (around the age of sixteen) and when he’d fixed one man’s car at the age of eighteen, that man sent him to a car shop and they hired him on the spot. My father knows a lot about technology, cars, but mainly chasing dreams. His only dream was to have grease on his hands, shirt, and even his face.
My mother doesn’t understand that dreams are what keep us alive. If my father had given up, he wouldn’t be where he is now. I guess he’s where I get my boost and my go-getter mental
ity from.
But I guess I could cut my mother some slack. My grandmother is a complete bitch to her. My grandmother pretty much planned my mom’s life out before she was even born. My grandma wanted her to go to a certain high school, a certain college, and she wanted her to obtain a degree in Nursing. My mom did it, too. She went along with her commands but now she regrets it.
I know deep down that my mother wanted to be a fashion designer. My mom used to dress me up every morning before school and most times I was shocked because the outfits that she would buy or pick out for me turned out to be great ones. Every outfit that she’d chosen was complimented on by everyone. My mom has a good eye for fashion but, of course, no one will ever know that because she keeps her dreams hidden.
I sit up and press the answer button on my phone. “Hello,” I croak.
“Natalie, sweetie!” she chimes through the phone. I pull the phone away from my ear to prevent my ear buds from bursting. “I heard from your father that things are going okay . . . although I wish that you would have told me yourself.”
“I wanted to but Dad said you were still working late and I didn’t want to bother.”
“Oh.” She pauses and her silence reminds me that I always did hate when she worked late or overtime. When I really needed my mother the most, she would never be around. On graduation night when I came in with ruined makeup and puffy eyes, I had to be held in my father’s arms instead of hers. I would have preferred my mother’s arms because she would have understood more about my situation, considering that she was hurt once before, too.
My mom knew everything that went on between Bryson and I. She even knew that we were having sex. She accepted him. My father was furious on the night that he’d cheated on me. He wanted to go find Bryson and drag him out of the party so bad but I kept him grounded. My father’s large hands would have strangled Bryson to death.
“Well is everything alright down there now? Have you met any new guys?” she asks, aiming to be friendly and hip.
I groan slightly. “No, Mom.”
“What about school? Have you signed up for any classes?”
“Mom, no. I will soon.”
I knew this was coming. She’s going to badger me about school. “Sweetie, stooping down to the level of Community College is already too low for you. At least get out there and sign up. I think that you deserve more. If you want, I can look online at some two-year colleges that may still be accepting applications. It’s never too late, Natty.”
“Mom, there’s nothing wrong with Community Colleges. Stop trying to make it sound all bad. You and Dad are already tight on money because of the divorce. I don’t want my funds to get in the way.”
The line is silent and I hear my mom swallow before speaking again. “He told you, huh?”
“Yes he told me. He really didn’t have to, though. I’m not blind. I could see the divorce coming from a mile away.”
“How do you feel about it?”
“I don’t understand it,” I mutter as I pull at a loose string that is attached to my sheets.
“What is there not to understand, honey? Your father and I clash all of the time. We bump heads way too many times during the day than I can count. I’m tired of bickering and arguing. Your father is too peaceful and too humble to ever want to finish an argument with me. When he leaves them floating around in the air, the tension just builds up between us.”
“Dad drops the arguments because he loves you, Mom. He doesn’t like to hurt you. You wouldn’t understand that because you feel like you’re always right,” I snap as my eyes roll slightly.
“I do not!” she snaps back.
“You don’t realize it, but you do, Mom.” I sigh as I push my hair back. “Look, I really want you and Dad to work this out. Dad texts me all of the time asking for advice but I don’t know what to tell him. He wants to work this out. Please, just think about this more before actually going through with it. You know he would die if it means that you will be happy.”
My mom remains quiet for a few unbearable moments. “Mom?” I call after the unbearable moments become awkward. I hear a sniffle and my chest tightens. “Mom. Don’t cry. Please.” I hate to hear my mother cry. Every night when I lived with them, I would hear her in the bathroom late at night letting out tears. She probably thought I didn’t hear her but I did. She was crying because her relationship was going downhill. The bathroom was across the hall from my room. When she cries, I feel the urge to cry as well.
“Natalie, I love Frank. He’s my world. I’m just afraid that I may hurt him.”
“The only thing that can hurt him is your pride. Your pride is always in the way. Just let it go and lose a battle for once. I swear it will make you feel better.”
“Yeah,” she breathes then sniffles again. “Maybe that’s true.” A beeping noise rings on her end and muffles whoosh around in my ear. “Well, I have to get back to work. I just wanted to call and check up on you.”
“Okay.” I don’t want this to end. Although my mom can be confusing and a bit pushy, I still love talking to her and nothing felt better at the moment than hearing her voice. I’m surprised she didn’t bring Bryson up but I know that’s a subject that she won’t touch for a while. She knows how much I used to love him and how much effort I used to put into my relationship with him.
“I love you, Natty. I’ll call you as soon as I’m off tonight. I promise.”
“Okay, Mom. I love you, too. Have a good day at work.”
“I’ll try,” she groans. I press my lips before ending the call. Drawing my legs against my chest, I rest my forehead against my knee. My life is truly falling apart. First it was Bryson and now it’s this divorce crap with my parents. I seriously don’t know what I will do if they end up leaving one another.
My father has had eyes for my mother for ages. He agrees that she can be a bit complicating but he loves her entirely. He loves her more than he loves fixing cars. My mom should know that but I don’t know what is causing her to think that he’s given up. My father isn’t a quitter. He will do everything that he can to prove his love to her. He’ll fight for her like he has nothing to live for.
I’ve wanted a guy like my dad. I’ve wanted someone with dreams, goals, and a huge heart. But it seems like every guy that I meet is the complete opposite of what he is. My father is far from selfish but most guys that I know are. Maybe it’s not meant for me to be with anyone just yet.
Pushing my sheets and blankets away, I step down on the soft carpet and decide to start my day. I make my way toward my suitcase and pull out a pair of crisp skinny jeans, a white tank top, and a pair of black Chuck Taylor’s. I head for the bathroom to wash my face, brush my teeth, and then pull my hair up into a loose bun. I refuse to put on any makeup. I don’t want to appeal to anyone at the moment but myself.
I guess I could do something with myself by heading to the nearest community college and signing up for classes. I need to do something that will keep my mind guarded from Nolan and especially Bryson. I put my clothes on quickly, grab my keys, and then head out. Harper is at work which I’m glad for because I’m sure that she would be begging me to go out with her like always.
As the door clicks shut behind me, I dash down the stairs to get to my car.
Chapter Twelve
I had to use the GPS that my father had given me to find Miami-Dade Community College. To my surprise, it wasn’t too far away from Harper’s condo. As soon as I step out of my car, my shirt sticks against me. It’s blazing today and for that I had to have my air conditioning on full blast. The air is uncomfortably humid and sticky but I’m hoping that will pass as I get into the building.
As I step inside, I am fooled completely. It’s hotter inside than it is out there. I press the back of my hand against my forehead and wipe the beads of sweat away quickly. A few people pass by in just shorts and tanks and I’m glad I have a tank on but I would feel much better in shorts than jeans.
Flicking my hand as I make my way down
the hall, I follow the signs that lead me to the admissions office. I spot the line leading to it and groan. There has to be over twenty-five people ahead of me. All of them look flushed and some are sweating heavily as they fan themselves with a few papers.
“Next,” a woman calls from the front desk with the blandest voice I have ever heard. The boy in front scuffles to her desk and I’m relieved that the line is actually moving. I stand behind a girl with short brown hair that is sticking to her forehead and the nape of her neck from sweat. She is softly tanned and petite in her light blue shorts and a pink camisole.
“I take it that you haven’t been here during the registration periods before,” she says, observing my jeans with a soft smile.
I shake my head as I look down with her. “Yeah. First time here,” I sigh.
“Don’t worry. The lines tend to move fast. When it’s that hot outside, the administrators will do everything in their power to get us out of here as fast as they can. During the summer, they don’t turn the air on.”
“Well I’m glad that the lines move quickly. I don’t want it to seem like I’ve just been swimming by the time I get back home.”
The girl laughs softly at my lame joke. “I’m Brittany Lucas. I’ve just moved here a year ago so I can see how you feel.” She reaches a kind hand to me and I take it.
“Natalie Carmichael,” I say as I give her hand a slight shake.
“So what are signing up for?”
“Um . . . I guess anything that deals with writing or reading,” I shrug.
“Ohhh,” Brittany says, extending the word. “You’re a writer. You kind of seem like one now that you’ve mentioned it. Most people that want to be writers are usually reserved. I’m a big reader.” She pauses while biting on her lip and studying her hands. “This may seem pushy, but if you have anything that you’d like to share with someone one day, I’d love to read whatever you have!”
“Really?” My heart flutters ecstatically, surprised by Brittany’s remark. She doesn’t seem like much of a reader but she does seem a bit intellectual.
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