Hard Rock Kiss

by Athena Wright

  But I couldn't follow him. My mind wouldn't quiet down.

  Months.

  Nathan was going to be gone for months.

  My mom had quit her job to take care of me. I'd always needed someone to be there, just in case. I always would need someone to be there, for the rest of my life.

  But Nathan couldn't guarantee that. Not with his job.

  And I could never ask him to give that up for me.

  What kind of future did that leave us?

  28

  "You're such a sweetie, Becca."

  Helen took the stack of books from my over-filled arms.

  "Wouldn't want you to get bored," I told her. "You said paranormal romance, right?"

  "That's the one," she said. "I've got a thing for those werewolf love stories."

  I pulled up a chair and sat next to Helen's bedside. It was my evening to spend time in the adult ward, and I'd looked forward to seeing Helen again. She was a lovely lady.

  "How are the hats coming along?" I asked.

  Helen had come up with an idea to create party hats for the children. It was easy enough to decorate a piece of paper with stickers and fold it into a coned hat with a string for under the chin.

  "I've already made more than a dozen," she said. "It's a fun way to take my mind off things."

  I completely understood the need to distract yourself from the reason you were in the hospital.

  "You're such a sweetheart to have put this together for the kids," Helen said. "It's such a wonderful idea. I know how hard it can be on a child, always in and out of the hospital at such a young age."

  Helen and I were discussing the party when a nurse came in to check her vitals and make some notes on her chart.

  "You seem in good spirits, Mrs. Walker," the nurse said as she made a mark with her pencil.

  "This lovely young lady here has been wonderful company," Helen said.

  Helen Walker.

  Nathan's last name was Walker.

  I knew his mom was sick and in this hospital.

  She said her son always looked out for her when he was growing up. She also said he was something of a wild child.

  No.

  It couldn't be.

  What were the chances?

  "Helen…" I asked once the nurse was gone. "Is your son's name Nathan?"

  "Oh no, don't tell me, you're a fan of Cherry Lips?" She gave me a crooked smile. "And now you've found out I'm his mom. Are you going to start stalking my hospital room to get a glimpse of him?"

  I was too stunned to respond.

  "Maybe I could ask him to sign something for you, how does that sound?" she asked.

  I shook my head slowly. "No. I'm not a fan of Cherry Lips."

  "Oh, are you a fan of his old band?" Her eyes turned sad. "I've always felt bad about everything that happened."

  I knew very little about Nathan's old band. All he'd told me was he'd left them because he'd been going through some stuff. Had this been the stuff? His mom being sick?

  "Everything…?" I asked carefully.

  Her mouth pursed. "You didn't know? Well, I suppose not many people did."

  "Nathan left the band, didn't he?"

  "No." She sighed quietly. "They kicked him out. And it was my fault."

  It was like a blow to my chest.

  They'd… kicked him out.

  Because of his mom? Because she was sick?

  "They weren't very good friends to my son," she said. "They weren't very understanding. He had to take me to all my appointments, he had to stay home sometimes to take care of me. They didn't think he was committed to the band." Her eyes glittering with unshed tears. "So they kicked him out."

  I felt sick. I felt nauseous. I felt like I was going to throw up any second.

  This explained so much. It explained everything.

  The swirling turmoil in my stomach began to congeal into a hard lump.

  "Becca, dear, I'm sorry." Helen reached out to take my hand. "I shouldn't have told you all of that. I've just been feeling so guilty for so long. It felt nice to finally tell someone."

  "It's okay, Helen." I couldn't feel my fingers. I couldn't feel her fingers on mine. I pulled my hand back. "Why don't I go get the party supplies and we can keep working on those hats?"

  She looked at me oddly before nodding. "Of course, sweetie."

  I got up from the chair and headed toward the door. I'd just pulled it open when I smacked face first into someone's chest.

  "Nathan!" his mother cried. "You're not supposed to be here for another few hours."

  Nathan looked down at me. I stared up at him.

  "We decided to finish early today," he told his mom without taking his eyes off me. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

  "Volunteering," I managed to say.

  "Do you two already know each other?" Helen asked, confused. "Sweetie, why didn't you say so?"

  "You've met my mom?" Nathan asked.

  "I didn't know she was your mom until just now."

  He look chagrinned, before letting out a rueful laugh. "Well, might as well do introductions, then."

  I shook my head. "No."

  His lips quirked as he whispered to me. "Worried about meeting the 'rents? It's okay, she'll love you. Mom," he said in a louder voice. "This is the girl I've been dating."

  Helen looked confused. "You're dating Becca? What happened to what's her name? Stephanie or Bethany? Oh, wait, it was Tiffany, wasn't it?"

  Nathan flicked his eyes to me, looking embarrassed. "No, those… those are over. Becca and I have been dating for a while now."

  "Really?" she looked utterly confused. "I had no idea you two knew each other."

  "We met at the hospital, actually," he said.

  "And you're serious about each other?" she asked.

  "Mom!" Nathan looked embarrassed.

  "I'm just saying, honey, you don't have a very good track record, and Becca is a lovely girl."

  "Mom, stop," Nathan said uncomfortably, shifting on both feet.

  "I…" I swallowed hard. "I've got to get back to work."

  Nathan frowned at me. "Becca?"

  "Sorry." I pushed past him to dash through the door.

  "I'll come find you later?" he called out in a questioning tone.

  I didn't reply, just hurried down the hall until I was out of sight. I wandered, in a daze, until I found myself in the cafeteria. I slumped down into a seat and stared at the surface of the table, not really seeing anything.

  Helen's words explained so much. They explained everything.

  She'd made everything clear. I'd just had everything spelled out in black and white.

  I now understood exactly what Nathan had gone through.

  And that was when I knew.

  The lump in my gut turned to pure ice.

  I could never make him go through it again.

  29

  I don't know how long I sat in the cafeteria. Long enough for the sun to set, coloring the sky pink and orange before setting into a blue twilight outside the hospital windows.

  I wasn't thinking about Nathan and his mom. I was thinking about my parents.

  My mom had been a paralegal. Not a full lawyer, but it still involved long hours and late nights. She'd always dreamed of going into law. And she'd had to quit because of me. I had too many appointments, too many surgeries, for her to keep working.

  My dad always worked extra hard at his job as a high-powered business consultant to make up for losing a second income. He had to make sure we could pay for all my treatments. We had good medical insurance through his work, but it didn't pay for everything. He was always working overtime.

  "Becca!"

  I heard Nathan approach me on swift feet.

  "There you are," he said. "I was looking everywhere."

  He took a seat across from me. I continued staring at the table, not looking at him.

  My mom had given up all her social events by the time I was a tween. No more book clubs, no more painting
classes. I wasn't gaining enough weight so I needed that gastrostomy tube. She needed to make sure I was getting my feedings. I would cry, sometimes, out of worry and fear, when she hooked me up. She couldn't stand to be away from me, couldn't stand not being able to comfort me, for even one evening.

  My dad spent every free minute when he wasn't at his job researching my condition. He had no other hobbies. He was always on the internet or reading textbooks and medical journals, taking reams of notes. He wanted to make sure he understood my illness as well as my doctors. He needed to make sure I was getting the best care. I couldn't recall ever seeing him read anything for fun, not even once.

  "Why did you run off?" Nathan asked. "My mom would have loved to talk to you, knowing that we're dating now. She said as much."

  "I had to get back to work."

  Really, my shift had almost been over. Helen was the last patient I'd been scheduled to visit. But I couldn't have stayed in that room with Nathan and his mom, not knowing everything I did.

  Helen Walker, the woman who told me how much her son had lost, how much he'd had to give up, because of her.

  Nathan Walker, the man who told me how he'd taken care of his mom his whole life, how he'd finally hit it big and was now finally free to live his life the way he wanted.

  "My mom was pretty surprised to find out the Becca who's been visiting her all this time was the same girl I'd been dating," he said. "She told me you're such a nice girl, that you always seemed sort of lonely, and that you deserved something special in your life." He let out a chuckle. "I think she was more happy for you than she was for me."

  I nodded vaguely.

  My mom and dad didn't have date nights. They never went out together by themselves. They didn't trust a babysitter to know how to take care of me. They didn't trust a stranger to know what to do if something went wrong.

  They had to live with the knowledge that I'd need care for the rest of my life. They lived with the knowledge that at any moment, something might go wrong.

  I'd seen Nathan's face during my panic attack after zorbing. He'd been so worried, so upset. He'd been so concerned, trying his best to take care of me.

  I'd seen his face when we tried indoor skydiving. He'd torn up the tickets, refusing to do something he'd been looking forward to, all because he was worried about my health.

  If he stayed with me, that was going to be his life. Always worrying. Always sacrificing.

  Those were the burdens I'd placed on my parents.

  And I'd be damned if I was going to place them on Nathan.

  I took a deep breath.

  "I think we should stop seeing each other."

  Nathan's entire face went blank. "What?"

  "I think we should stop seeing each other," I repeated verbatim, unable to force any other words out of my mouth.

  His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again.

  "Why?" he breathed, a single word full of confusion and disbelief.

  "I—"

  I can't let you give up your life for me.

  I knew I couldn't say that out loud. He would protest. He would cajole. He would give me all sorts of reassurances.

  But none of it mattered.

  Nathan's life had already been derailed because of his mother's burden.

  I couldn't place more on his shoulders.

  "Is this about the Stephanie thing?" he asked. "Because that meant nothing. My mom just got confused. I'm not dating anyone else, if that's what you think."

  I knew he wasn't dating anyone else.

  But it gave me an excuse.

  I nodded slowly. His expression turned anguished.

  "I swear, there's no one else," he said. "There's just you. Only you. My mom was just remembering the last girl I'd told her about. That's all."

  I clasped my hands together in my lap, trying to hide the trembling.

  "You've dated a lot," I said. "There's been a lot of women."

  His face twisted.

  "So what? That doesn't mean anything. That's all in the past!"

  I stayed silent, staring down at my hands, willing the tears away, not allowing them to sting my eyes.

  Nathan stood abruptly, screeching the chair across the floor.

  "Are you really mad at me for that?" he asked, incredulous. "You knew exactly what I was when we met. Fuck, you were the one who practically dragged me home, remember?"

  "I remember," I said, not looking at him.

  The hurt on his face warped into something less distressed, more aggravated.

  "I can't believe you're going to stand here and judge me!" he seethed. "We can't all be saints like you."

  "I'm not a saint," I murmured.

  I lied to my parents.

  I lied to Nathan.

  I lied to myself.

  I'd told myself everything was going to be fine, not to worry, that things with Nathan and I would work out.

  It had been a lie and I'd known it. Things were never going to work out. It was always going to end like this. The whole reason I'd gone to that concert was because I knew there was no future with a cocky, playboy rock star. It was all supposed to be casual, just for fun.

  But I'd got in too deep. I'd fallen too fast. I'd fallen for Nathan.

  And considering the combination of heartbreak and indignation on his face, I had to assume he felt something similar for me.

  That was why I had to break it off now. Before this went too far.

  I refused to put my burdens on someone I…

  My lower lip quivered. I pressed my lips together firmly.

  I refused to put my burdens on someone I loved.

  "I'm sorry," I said, finally looking at him.

  I'd tried to make my eyes hard, my tone unyielding. All I managed to do was speak the words numbly, like a zombie, my eyes blank and empty.

  "I don't want to see you anymore," I continued.

  He fisted his hands at his side, shaking with fury, but the anguish in his eyes almost broke me.

  "Fuck you," he snarled. He whirled away, stomping off a few feet, before he turned around, eyes blazing with anger. He heaved a heavy breath and opened his mouth a few times. He looked frustrated, as if he couldn't find the words he wanted to say.

  "I'm sorry," I said.

  "Fuck your apologies," he spat. "I'm done with this."

  And for once, Nathan was the one who stormed off, leaving me to sit there, staring at his retreating back, tears finally falling from my eyes, and shards splintering from my shattered heart.

  30

  I wandered listlessly around my apartment for days. I'd call in sick at the pet shop and I'd told Tracey I wouldn't be able to make my next few volunteer shifts. I couldn't handle being around people. I couldn't pull myself together enough to pretend everything was okay.

  And I absolutely could not risk running into Nathan.

  My chest went tight.

  Nathan.

  I'd broken up with him.

  I'd broken his heart, and in the process I'd also broken mine.

  I glanced at my phone, sitting on the coffee table. There had been no texts. No phone calls.

  Not that I had expected there to be. After what had happened, I could imagine Nathan wouldn't want to speak to me ever again.

  My stomach rumbled. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten. I'd had no appetite. But I was beginning to get hunger pangs, so I went over to the fridge. When I opened it, I found it nearly empty. Same for the cupboards. I hadn't gone grocery shopping in a while.

  I used to take most of my meals with my family, but ever since that fight with my mom, I'd been eating down in my apartment. Which meant I'd depleted my meager stash of food.

  I slumped against the fridge and rested my head against the freezer door, closing my eyes. The cool temperature seeped into my skin, making my outsides feel as icy and numb as my insides.

  That lump inside me hadn't gone away. Instead, it had only grown larger, colder, like a mountain-sized iceberg floating in my belly, ready
to tear through me and demolish every inch of me.

  The only thing that kept me from falling apart completely was knowing I'd done the right thing in the end.

  I'd hurt Nathan, but it was better to hurt him a little bit now than to put him through something even worse later on.

  My stomach rumbled again, painfully this time. I double-checked, but I didn't even have my usual emergency stash of granola bars. I had to go get some food.

  With a sigh, I heaved myself upright. I made my way up the stairs and paused, listening through the door. I didn't hear anything. I inched the door open a crack. I didn't see anyone. The coast was clear.

  I tiptoed into the kitchen, intending to make a quick dash for food. I didn't have the energy to make food from scratch, but maybe I could steal some cookies or crackers. I opened the cupboard where we kept the treats and snacks and rummaged around.

  My eyes landed on a bottle of chocolate syrup.

  I was assaulted with memories. Nathan's touch, his scent, his taste. The taste of him mixed with the taste of chocolate.

  I can think of a dozen uses for chocolate syrup that have nothing to do with ice cream.

  The echo of his voice filled my ears. He'd come to my apartment that evening, apologizing for how he'd acted. I'd apologized to him, as well. We'd both promised to talk things out and compromise from now on.

  He'd told me he cared about me. He told me the last thing he wanted to do was hurt me.

  Tears filled my eyes.

  I cared about him too.

  That was why I had to hurt him.

  "I told you, the neighbors are complaining again!" my mom's voice rang throughout the house.

  I heard the slam of the front door and my father's heavy footsteps.

  "I'll get to it this weekend," my dad growled.

  My parents entered the kitchen, still fighting.

  I hastily wiped the tears away with the back of my hands, but I knew my eyes were still going to be red.

  "Becca! I didn't expect to see you out here," my mom said, surprised. Then her voice turned stiff. "Does this mean you've finally decided to stop sulking and giving me the silent treatment?"