Second Chance

by Willow Winters

  “Young love,” Mark says beneath his breath and Nancy nods, jotting that down too.

  “Young and stupid,” Hally says and I hate it. We may have been, but that night is what she’s thinking of. I can see it in her eyes.

  “I was stupid,” I interrupt her and Hally finally looks up at me, shaking her head slightly.

  She swallows and almost says something. She almost contradicts me, but then bites down on her words. She doesn’t want to fight me, and I hate it. My hand clenches into a fist on the table, feeling like I’m losing her.

  “And you broke up, over the fighting, we’ll say,” Nancy says as the silence stretches for too long. “Now what was on your mind when you saw him, Hally?” Nancy asks and my body stills, my lungs refusing to fill.

  How could I not have noticed? I glance back down at her picture. How was I so blind to her pain? I put my elbow on the table and my chin in my hand. Covering my mouth with my fingers I keep my emotions in check, waiting for Hally to answer.

  “I was scared,” she says with a nod and then another, the second one more confident. I can see it in her eyes that she wants to tell them the truth.

  She’s sweet and naïve, so it’s only a matter of time before she slips. In this industry, they never let up.

  Before they can ask her why, she gives a small smile and says, “I thought he wouldn’t want me the way I wanted him.” Her voice is hopeful and filled with nostalgia.

  Even I would believe her, if I didn’t know it was a lie.

  She was scared of our past, of that night. The reminder and the pain it carries.

  “Now, Nate, you need to remember these details,” Nancy says and it pisses me off.

  “Easy enough since it’s all true,” I snap back at her. They think it’s a lie? A charade? I don’t care.

  The only thing I care about is the fact that she’s hurting and I’ve been ignoring it.

  There’s one person who could destroy me and she’s the one I’m giving everything to.

  Chapter 18

  Harlow

  Ten years ago

  April 12

  * * *

  Nina’s is an old mom and pop type place on the corner. It’s a little Italian restaurant on Fourth Street, small and right on the edge of the rough part of town, but it’s where we used to go on Fridays. They had five dollar pizzas and dollar drinks. It was cheap and a habit we got into.

  It’s also where we were when it started, when I decided to be an idiot. Really, I just wanted to piss him off. I think that’s what kids do when they’re in love and hurt. They lash out. I know better now, or at least I like to pretend I do. But back then, I just wanted him to regret throwing away what we had. It was foolish and it’s why I think it was all my fault.

  * * *

  “I want to tell my parents,” I tell him again. I swear he’s ignoring me, and it’s pissing me off. He knows how important this is to me. It’s eating me alive.

  We had sex. We’ve really been having sex regularly. Every time I see him. Every fight we get into. All I want to do is kiss him and then more.

  Last night was my breaking point. I sneaked out and met Nathan at the corner store. He didn’t hesitate to buy the box of condoms, even with me standing right there. I held his hand with both of mine and tried to pretend it was okay, but it wasn’t.

  Miss Andrews was at the register and she knows my mother by first name. I don’t want my parents to find out because of someone else. Instead of bringing it up last night, we fought about him buying the condoms and then used them in the backseat of his car.

  Some backbone I have.

  I have to admit; I like it though. I like people knowing. I like him having me whenever he wants. Wherever he wants. Even if that makes me dirty. But I don’t want people to think of me that way and definitely not my parents. I can’t have them finding out from someone else.

  “Then tell them,” he answers me, but he doesn’t elaborate.

  “Are you coming with me?” I ask him. I don’t want to do it alone. I’m practically terrified. I think they already know though, but I’m not sure.

  “Fuck no,” Nathan says and looks back at me like I’m crazy.

  “Well, I don’t want to do it alone.” I try not to raise my voice, but I do. It makes my heart beat faster thinking someone heard. I look over my shoulder from our booth in the corner but no one’s looking at us. The only other people in here are a few guys who just got off work at the steel mill, or maybe they’re on their break, I don’t know. But they’re all in the opposite booth and the one right next to it. Dirty boots and the thick jackets with Stanley’s Steel logos give away who they are.

  “You don’t need me there,” Nathan says and then wipes pizza sauce from his hand with a thin napkin. He balls up the napkin as I answer, “I do. I want you there.” I try to put as much sincerity as I can into my tone.

  “That’s not happening,” he tells me as though it’s final.

  “Because you don’t want to and what I want doesn’t matter?” I ask him with nothing but venom.

  “I can’t deal with this right now,” Nathan tells me, brushing me off. He makes me feel like I’m the crazy one.

  “Is it that big of a deal to be by my side when I tell them?” I ask him desperately. Nathan looks at me for a moment like he’s considering what to say, but then he just looks out of the window as a car passes, completely distracted and not actually participating. That’s all I want; is it that unreasonable?

  “So what?” I ask him, throwing my hands into the air and leaning back against the booth. The cheap vinyl squeaks and protests. I hate this little restaurant. The tables are cheap; the flooring is peeling.

  “So, drop it.”

  I flinch at his blunt response. I don’t like living like this, feeling as though I’m lying.

  “They don’t even know we’re dating, let alone how serious it is,” I tell him as if it’s a confession. It really is, for me. I feel guilty and just want it off my chest.

  “Is it really that serious?” he asks me like I’m being dramatic.

  I sit there dumbfounded, falling back into my seat as my blood turns cold. I try to clear my throat, but it’s dry so I pick up the plastic cup of Coke and take a sip and then another, staring out of the large bay window and watching the cars drive by too. I ignore the pain in my chest and the way my eyes sting.

  We’re over. I won’t give myself to someone who won’t do the same in return.

  But I already have, and that’s the part that hurts the most. Young and dumb, puppy love. Whatever it’s called, it’s a brutal bitch.

  It was a similar breakup, like so many that we’d gone through. At the time, it felt like the worst thing imaginable. Like he’d taken my heart and torn it to shreds and didn’t give a damn about it.

  So I stormed off. Determined to piss him off and get under his skin like he’d gotten under mine.

  I went down Rodney Street, making sure to take the first few streets I’d normally walk down on the way to my house. Just in case Nathan was watching. And then I went left, down his street. Into his territory.

  I remember gritting my teeth and feeling so vindicated. He didn’t want to date me, fine. He wasn’t going to tell me what to do then.

  I was in my boots and a flimsy sweater, not nearly warm enough for the weather and I cursed Nathan under my breath, not bothering to look where I was going or to notice how the people on the streets were disappearing, leaving the sidewalks vacant.

  I looked up to see a street light flicker, the only one that was lit on that side of the street.

  And then it happened. Chills cover my arms as I remember.

  His hands were cold and rough as he pulled me just inside the alley. My heart slammed as I screamed out in surprise. His breath smelled like cigarettes. I tried to get away, I scrapped and screamed again, but I didn’t have to try hard.

  It was over so quickly. That’s the part that was so utterly shocking. It only took one motion, one swift pull and shov
e from Nathan. The man flew back as Nathan ripped him away, tearing his fingers from under my sweater, his dirty nails scratching my skin as he was snatched away.

  I heard a cry, my shrill scream from the terror I hadn’t realized was over. And then a crack. The sound is so pure in my head. A skull crashing against the sharp corner of a dumpster.

  Crack.

  It silenced me. It made the chaos go still. Somehow, deep inside, I knew it was all over from that sound. As if it were deeply embedded in me to know it was the sound that comes with immediate death.

  So many questions rushed me. I kept wondering if it was real. Did it really happen?

  Nathan dragged me down the street as I barely managed to keep up with him. Towing me by the arm and asking me over and over if I was okay. Physically I was fine; emotionally I was shaken, but I couldn’t answer him.

  Maybe I was in shock. I don’t know, but when we stopped in front of the liquor store I stumbled and tried to figure out why we were there.

  “The cops are coming,” he told me.

  My voice was caught in my throat. “Say something!” Nathan screamed as he shook me and although my memory is biased, I swear I saw fear.

  “He’s dead?” The words somehow slipped out.

  Nathan stared at me as the realization dawned on me.

  “They’ll never know you had anything to do with it,” he told me and then he let go of my hand. He ran a hand down the side of my face and now I know he was saying goodbye, one last touch, but I didn’t understand it back then. I tried to hold his hand as he lowered it, but he pulled it away.

  “You need to leave, Hally.”

  I stared up at him, dumbfounded and unsteady.

  But the man was dead, the cops were here and I was looking into the cold eyes of the boy I loved so much. I’d never felt more alone and guilty in my entire life.

  Chapter 19

  Nathan

  * * *

  I never dared to dream I could have her again. Not after I was so cold to her and distanced myself so completely. And now all I can see is her slowly slipping away from me after the way she acted in that meeting.

  Our strides are in unison as we walk toward her dressing room, but I grab her hand with mine and keep moving, and she follows me. Just that acknowledgement is enough for me to wrap my arm around her waist, bringing her closer to me and holding her right where she belongs.

  Next to me.

  I had my reason for killing that piece of shit already in place before the cops even got there. I was going to tell them the dumb fuck had tried to mug me, and I hadn’t meant to kill him. I was pretty sure I’d still serve time, even without any priors, but she had nothing to do with it and I would never let her get caught up in the shit life I led.

  It was the only way I saw her getting away from it. She had to get away from me.

  I open the dressing room door in a swift movement and wait for Hally before I step in, closing the door and locking it immediately.

  I need to hold her, comfort her, hear whatever she’s thinking. I tell myself that as I stare at the doorknob and prepare to turn around and face her.

  I’m guiltridden all over again and I know the easy thing to do is just leave. But there’s no good that can come from that. Back then, it made sense to a stupid boy who was scared but didn’t want someone he loved to go down with him.

  Times have changed and I need to make it right, but I don’t know how. How could she ever forgive me?

  “Is it just for the cameras?” Hally asks me. The chair to the desk rocks on its front legs as she pushes it slightly from behind. She doesn’t look me in the eyes as she clenches her jaw, waiting for an answer.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask her out of pure shock. That’s not at all what I expected to come out of her mouth. I approach her slowly, but she squares her shoulders and looks back at me defensively.

  “You said today, you’d do it to get them off your back,” she says again, not looking at me and instead looking at the door. My heartbeat picks up. It’s just like before. A massive fight over nothing and then she’ll run. I can feel it coming.

  “Our backs,” I tell her and finally she looks up at me, but it’s with daggers.

  “You said yours,” she says as her nostrils flare.

  “I’m used to being alone,” I answer her. “It was a-” she cuts me off right before the word "mistake.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “If I wanted to be alone, I would be,” I tell her with a deathly low voice and take a chance moving closer to her. She backs away slightly, like my touch would burn her so I stop short. Hating that she’s doing this.

  “You know what I mean,” she says. “Do you want me, or do you just want to fuck and smile for the cameras?” she says again and then adds, “You didn’t answer me.” She scoffs and then looks at the ceiling. “I guess that should tell me the answer right there.” She’s trying to play it off like she’s foolish, but the pain causes her eyes to go glossy with tears.

  How could she even question that? “I want you,” I tell her simply. Hoping she’ll drop the entire conversation and this agenda to end what’s between us.

  “So you really want to be with me?” she asks me like she doesn’t believe me.

  “Yes!” I yell louder than I should. If anyone is just outside the door, I know they can hear. I lower my voice. “Of course I want you.” The words leave my lips and they’re the truest and purest I’ve ever spoken.

  “Then why didn’t you say that? Why not just tell the truth?”

  “What truth?” I ask her, bewildered.

  “Today!” she yells, not caring in the least about anyone listening. “You could have told them we were together. You could have told them anything but instead, you just left me there … alone.”

  “Where the hell are you getting this from?” I don’t understand why this is even a conversation between us. I can’t stand it. I ask the one question that matters. The one we should be discussing. “What are you afraid of, Hally?” I yell it out so loud it burns my throat, making it feel raw and dry.

  “Of you,” she says so low I almost don’t hear her, her shoulders hunching slightly as her composure crumbles.

  My body’s still, in disbelief.

  “Because you’re going to hurt me,” she says and slowly I regain my sense of control. I would never hurt her in any way. Ever. She has to know that. This is just bullshit she’s spewing to push me away.

  “I would never-”

  “You left me,” she whispers. “And it still hurts.”

  “I didn’t ever want to hurt you,” I tell her. “You have to know that.”

  “I don’t know that,” she tells me, her eyes brimming with sincerity. “I needed someone,” she whispers her choked words. “I still need someone.”

  “I’m right here, you can tell me anything,” I say and my words are desperate. “Whatever you need to tell me, I’m here.”

  Tears leak down her cheeks and she wipes them away angrily. Like she’s ashamed to have them show. “I don’t know what to say; I don’t know what I need.” She shakes her head chaotically and I pray she just gives me something I can work with. A single thread to hold onto.

  “Just tell me what’s on your mind.”

  “What if it’s just too late?” she asks me, not quite a question and more of an accusation. One well earned on my part.

  “It’s not,” I tell her with complete sincerity. I can’t turn back time, but it can’t be too late. Every moment I have to live is a moment I can try to make it right. I just don’t know how.

  “What happens after filming is over?” she asks me. “That’s a question,” she says like she has me cornered. I could play dumb and avoid the conversation, or bring up the fact that we’ll both be asked back next year so long as the ratings are what they should be. But I know what she’s referring to and I don’t have an answer for her.

  “I don’t know, Hally.” I’m slow with my words, careful. My head
is spinning and I don’t know what she wants to hear.

  “I need something, Nathan.” My mouth hangs open a moment and then I slam it shut.

  I almost ask her what she wants, because I’d give it to her, whatever it is. But she doesn’t give me the chance.

  “I loved you,” she says with pain as if it’s a sin to say the words.

  Loved. As in past tense.

  My blood goes cold and I wait for whatever she’s going to say next. How she’ll throw it in my face that I never loved her back. I know it’s coming. I’ll take it. I swallow the lump in my throat, staring back at her and waiting for the assault.

  She can berate me, hate me, blame me—whatever she needs, so long as she doesn’t leave.

  As if she’s heard my thoughts, as if knowing what would hurt me most, she pulls herself together enough to look me in the eyes.

  “I have to go,” Hally utters hurriedly, stepping around me and my first instinct is to cage her in. One palm against the wall and her chest to mine, I do it.

  “Don’t,” I tell her, gritting my teeth and forcing the word out. She looks me in the eyes and moves under my arm. My body’s frozen in place. I can’t keep her here. I can’t hold her against her will.

  “Don’t leave, Hally,” I tell her with as much strength as I can manage.

  “I need time to think about it all. I just can’t-” she starts to say and then Hally pushes past me. As I try to grab her hand, she rips herself away from me.

  She doesn’t finish her thought; she doesn’t say goodbye. She just leaves me alone and it’s the worst feeling in the world.

  It’s the feeling that I shouldn’t go after her.

  The feeling that I never deserved her.

  The feeling that she’s not going to come back.

  “She will,” I mutter beneath my breath. She’s just scared. But she’ll come back. Or I’ll go get her. One way or the other, I’m not letting her get away from me again.