Resuscitate (Annihilate #1)

by S. Morayla

  “Don’t be, I’m your friend. If you need to get this out, I’m here for you, Har—day or night.” I release him, wiping the remaining tears off my skin.

  “Thanks, Nat. You don’t know what it means to me to have you here.”

  Sad Song

  The days meld together. Another routine has been established. Friday nights, I go with Adriana to watch the guys perform, and Saturday mornings are spent with Zayne and Harrison at the diner having breakfast.

  Friends. To most, it’s not a big deal, but those who really know me understand what a huge deal it is. And now, I have a whole group who welcomed me, took me in, let my weary soul mill about, slowly taking the ache away.

  I’ve even gained a best friend, while not conventional. A girl would usually be suited in this place of honor, but Harrison and I connect so deeply, one broken soul reaching for the other, trying to make quality of this life. We have told each our deepest regrets and painful memories. Writing and working on music has been our connector. He keeps my secrets and I keep his.

  Then, there is the crush. It still throws me for a loop. Me, Natalee Rodriguez, having a crush. Like butterflies in my stomach when I see him or a huge smile forming on my lips when we text. I’m in awe of Zayne, my Adonis. When he is around, I gravitate toward him. My soul yearns for him, weeps like the British showers until we are once again together. My senses go out of whack; the walls I’ve built tremble, threatening to crumble.

  On the same coin, I can’t get close.

  I’m like a tornado, causing chaos and pain.

  Those walls were built for a reason, to contain my woes. But daily, he drills holes, weakening my sanctuary, driving me insane. If only Leslie and I could get on the same page. Instead, we pass each other like two ships in the night. I’ve tried talking with her, asking questions like Dr. Winchester suggested, but she brushed me off. At least I tried. I tap the pen to my mouth, looking at the mess scattered on my bed. I’ve been trying to start my English essay for the last half hour.

  “Hey, Nat?” My eyes look up at her cobalt-colored ones in stupefaction.

  “Yeah.”

  “I know we haven’t really had a chance to hang out much. I know you don’t care for Chance and I can’t blame you for that. I just wish…” she plops on her bed, looking down at her hands, “look, I’m your roomie, and I don’t know…there’s been this big disconnect between us ever since the party, most of it being my fault. I’m also sorry for brushing you off the other day.” Her eyes shine with sincerity.

  Zayne has often asked about Leslie, but most of the time, I can’t really give much insight. Like I said, ships in the night. We pass one another like the ghost and the living. We can feel one another's presence, yet choose to ignore it. When Harrison told me about the baby and their relationship, I tried not to be judgmental and I miss the Leslie I hung out with prior to the dreaded party night.

  “It’s alright. Stuff happens, right?”

  “It was embarrassing. I didn’t know how to face you. That was not how I thought the night would go. Then…I don’t know, Chance just wouldn’t let me out of his sight and my parents…” She bites her lip as she picks at her pale pink nail polish. “They’re just assholes and so controlling. Anyway, I was hoping we could start over? If you want, that is. Have a girls’ night? I promise Chance won’t be coming around, at least for a while.”

  “Sure, we can do that. When do you want to have this girls’ night?”

  “Yay!” She claps, bouncing up and down on the bed, her face illuminated with happiness. Laughter escapes my lips. This is the Leslie I remember from the first day, not the sullen one who’s has been sulking around these past few weeks.

  “Okay, should we call Adriana and see if she wants to come over? And how about tonight, since neither of us have classes tomorrow? Plus, I know tomorrow night is when you go watch the guys at The Corral,” she says, sadness growing in her voice.

  “That sounds great. Should we stock up on junk food? I could text Adiana.”

  “Yes!” she almost screams. I can’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm

  My fingers fly over the keyboard, asking Adriana to come over and to pick up Oreos, Flaming Hot Funyuns, chocolate, Red Bulls, and Dr. Pepper—oh, and pizza.

  Three hours later.

  Red Bull buzz.

  Pizza gone.

  We lay on the floor in a sated food coma.

  “I need help getting up, but at the same time, I just want to lay here forever.” Adriana’s voice rings out in a satisfied groan.

  “I can’t move. Who the hell decided we should eat all of that?” I ask, my hand on top of my gorged stomach. I move my head to the right, looking at Adriana. Her eyes are closed with her arms above her head.

  “You know what sucks about watching movies like The Notebook?” Leslie asks to no one in particular.

  “Having a love like that, by a guy who looks at you like you’re his world—how do you move on from that? It’s hard to look at a world that once shone in wondrous color when all you see is bleak dullness surrounded by fake people. That guy made your life…meaningful. What sucks even more is the fact that one will lose their greatest love while another person will gain them.” The pain in her voice along with those words cut me to the quick.

  Burning.

  The slow ache spreads through my limbs.

  Churning.

  My emotions filled to the brim.

  I swallow, turning my head to the left.

  The tears flow down the side of Leslie’s face.

  “I know you and Harrison have become close. I’m grateful for that. I’ve seen his smile when he’s with you—a genuine, real smile. The kind that makes my heart beat faster. The kind that he would give to me in the days we were together. You have no idea how much I appreciate you for that.” Her hand slides across the plaid blanket we laid out earlier. Gripping my hand, she gives it a squeeze. “Thank you for bringing Harrison back, even if I can only see him from far away. I’d rather have that than never see him at all.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” I insist.

  “You wouldn’t know this, Nat, because you haven’t seen him in the last year, but it's a huge change. You came in and I don’t know what you bring, but you’ve helped Harrison so much, and then you captivated Zayne in a way we have never seen. His whole face brightens up. He’s the happy-go-lucky guy he was prior to that bitch Lexi,” Adriana chimes in.

  Have you ever had that pang of jealousy hit you in the gut so hard it makes it almost impossible to breathe? That’s how I’m feeling. My stomach is in knots at the thought of Zayne with that horrendous she-devil. I close my eyes, breathing through the sharp pain of envy.

  His lips kissing her.

  His body holding her.

  His hands touching her.

  I swallow the bile climbing my throat.

  It scares me to know I’m feeling these emotions. Adriana continues as I lay here, trying to understand the depth of her words.

  “You just have this…bright spirit. We’re all drawn to it. I don’t know everything you’ve been through, but just know we are your friends. Beyond what you have done for the guys, you are just someone who steps up for those you care about.”

  “Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” Leslie asks, sniffling and wiping her tears with the back of her hand. Her blonde hair sits in a perfect bun on the top of her head as she looks at me.

  “Sure.”

  “First, I’m sorry I haven’t been a great roommate or friend. I haven’t been here to bond with you the way you have with Adriana or the guys. Did he tell you about us?” Her eyes glaze with tears, her usual crystal blue a rich sapphire. The dismal look she gives makes my heart heavy.

  “Yes,” I say, my voice a quivering whisper.

  “Can I explain some things? I know he told you about our baby.” I nod, swallowing back the anger rising in my chest.

  “If I tell you this, Natalee, please don’t tell him,
just let him hate me.” Again, I nod.

  Leslie’s eyes close as she begins her tale.

  “I’ve known Chance since I was ten. Our families did business together as well as belonging to the same country club. Our mom’s were on the same committees. I remember my mom was always trying to push me his way. It got worse when she found out I was dating Harrison. While I did like Chance, he just wasn’t Harrison. To say that my parents disapproved of Harrison is an understatement. They hated the idea that I was with a guy who’s family had no money. Him wanting to be a singer is not something acceptable to them. Chance liked me, I knew, but I just never saw him as anything more than a friend. For a year and a half, my relationship with Harrison was…” she pauses, swallowing a few times to regain her composure, “it was the best. I had never known a guy could love me so unconditionally. I’ve never really had that until then. My parents aren’t the type of people who willingly show love or give praise.

  “Harrison protected and encouraged me. He showed me the world was bigger than the bubble I was accustomed to. He treated me with respect. He asked me what I wanted from life and how he could help me achieve my dreams. I love his attitude and the way he looks at life. Everything is beautiful in his eyes. He showed me that. He was my first everything. I loved when he’d sing to me.” She smiles brightly. Pride comes through her voice as she goes on.

  “My parents made it hard, but I loved him and I didn’t care what they wanted. Then, one day, my world crashed. My dad and Chance’s dad’s businesses were merging together. My dad thought me dating a guy who was a nobody and had nothing would not be in the best interest of his business. I was told to break up with him and that I was to look for a more suitable dating partner—one with a family that came from prestige and money. Of course, I did not want this. I told him I would not do that. My father yelled at me, telling me what a disgrace I was, that I was ungrateful and selfish. Because of whom I was dating, I was making our family look bad. I continued to refuse. He said he would cut me off. I told him I didn’t care about the money. That is when Momster stepped in. She told me if I did not comply with their wishes, they would destroy Nick’s dad's business, break it down, and sell it bit by bit, ensuring he’d never do business here in the U.S.—or any other country, for that matter. They’d also get the guys’ student visas revoked and kicked out of the country.” She pauses, taking in a shuttered, broken breath.

  “I couldn’t allow my parents to rip apart the people I loved the most in this world. I couldn’t be the reason they didn’t achieve their dreams. They were my family and I had to do anything I could to protect them against the people who gave me life. I had a decision to make. I knew I was pregnant, I could have run away, but I know my parents, their reach is scary. Harrison and I saw our baby boy a few days later and I knew right then what I had to do. I called my grandfather and we made a plan for me to disappear until I had the baby. He was going to help Harrison and I out until we could manage on our own.” Leslie sits up, covering her face with her hands, sobs wracking her body. Adriana comes over, hugging her from one side, and I hug her from the other.

  “You okay, Les? You don’t have to go on, it’s fine,” Adriana tells her through her own tears.

  Leslie shakes her head. “I’m okay, I promise.” We sit like this for a minute before she goes on.

  “Later that night, I woke up in pain—unbearable cramping and so much blood. I knew something was wrong with the baby. I went to my parents’ room, but they were out. I went to the kitchen and found Estela, our housekeeper. She took me to the hospital. In my panic, I didn’t call anyone. All I wanted was to make it to the doctor. Once there, I was admitted, and they immediately ran tests. In the end, they couldn’t find his heartbeat. I had to deliver him, he was stillborn.” Words fail me.

  But Harrison thinks she had an abortion. I’m so confused. Why wouldn’t she just tell him? Nonetheless, my body is shaking, the tears are flowing, and I can’t stop thinking about poor Harrison.

  “The hospital called my parents and all hell broke loose. I couldn’t call anyone. When we got home, I was told I was to never see Harrison again. They’d already started talking to people to get the boys out of the country. I was brokenhearted, scared, and so tired. I wished when my baby had died that I had died as well. I didn’t want to live in this hell. I didn’t want to live my life. I went to take a shower and when I came out, I heard my mom on my phone. I knew it was Harrison because she told him I never loved him and I went to her about getting an abortion. She told him to stay away from me. The damage was done. How could he forgive me after that? How could he trust me? But I knew I had to play along because I know the lengths my parents would go to ensure they get what they want—never giving it a second thought to the many lives they would destroy in the process, not even their own daughters.” She blows out a long breath as her hands rise to her hair, slicking back the strays with her fingers.

  “I told the boys an askew version. Yes, they all think I had an abortion, but if I told them the real reason, they wouldn’t care. They’d do whatever it took to make Harrison happy. They’d sacrifice their dreams for us and I can’t allow them to do such a thing. I’d rather they hate me and live their dreams.”

  The clock ticks, seconds turn into minutes. What seems like mere minutes turns into forty-five.

  Diving.

  Divulging.

  Wrenching.

  My eyes have been open, but they could not see.

  This girl is selfless.

  A warrior.

  She fights silently in the background.

  Now I see how she plays the role to all these people. Harrison lost his heart to this woman who will protect him to the end.

  “Leslie, I’m so sorry. I...I mean, Harrison’s version was similar, but…oh, damn.”

  Tears continue to fall.

  Chest on fire.

  Head aching.

  “All I can say is I know what that feels like. To love someone so much but never feel as if you can truly move on because that person was an extension of yourself,” I tell her.

  Bearing my soul.

  Letting it go.

  Nowhere to hide.

  The anguish pushes through my lips.

  My heart screams, “No. Stop!”

  But, that whispered voice says, “Let them see, Natalee. Let them hear.”

  I’m scared, but I know it’s time. Harrison doesn’t even know all the chains that bind me to the shadows of my past.

  Those are harder to bear. To voice those would mean I would have to deal. I’d have to feel and possibly forgive. I’m not ready for that...just yet. I take in a deep breath and close my eyes.

  It’s time, Natalee.

  With those words whispered into my soul, I begin my story. “My name is not Natalee Rodriguez, it’s Natalee Mortello.”

  Waiting in Vain

  “You have a solid introduction, but I think you need to work on your thesis statement.” I nod at her, even though I’m lost. What the bloody hell is a thesis statement?

  “Do you know what that is?” Her pink stained lips have a ghost of a smile on them.

  “I’m having a difficult time remembering if the professor talked about it. I’m sure he did.” I stare at my essay, trying not to get frustrated. English is one of my top subjects, but with classes, work, and practice, it can become overwhelming at times.

  “Alright, so a thesis statement is like a list of subjects your essay will cover. For example, you could say ‘examining the effects of early human trafficking to those of today’, as well as ‘the impact on the communities and families of the victims’, and lastly, ‘what steps can be taken to contain trafficking’. Don’t add any quotes here because this is where you are putting your original ideas of how the paper will be formatted. Make sure you do add a quote or two in your introduction, but don’t just throw it in. Integrate it so it looks organic.” I stare at her in astonishment, unblinking. I’m quickly finding Shorty to be more than just beauty. She is i
ntelligent and charismatic.

  “Helloooo. Don, you there?” Her hand waves in front of my face, pulling me from my thoughts. I chuckle at her nickname for me. I told her Adonis was not appropriate since I do not look anything like a Greek god. Natalee, not one to be deterred, decided she’d shorten the name to Don.

  “Yeah, just trying to figure out how this will come together.” I sigh in frustration.

  “No worries. I will be here critiquing you every step of the way.” She flashes me a smile. “Now, get to work, Mr. Morad.” I shake my head, smirking at her, and begin typing rubbish.

  An hour later, my eyes are blurry, neck sore, and fingers cramping. I glance to the side, looking for Shorty. I stand, walking toward the lounge. My eyes soften when I see her deep in concentration, sitting on my couch with her laptop open on the coffee table in front of her. She’s chewing on the end of the pen, staring pensively at the screen. I could stand here all night memorizing every detail of her.

  I walk into the lounge and take a seat next to her. “What are you working on, Shorty?” I move a stray hair, brushing it over her ear.

  She swallows and turns her head to me. Her eyes go right to my lips. “Ah, sorry—what?” she asks, her voice low.

  “I asked if that’s homework.”

  “Yeah, History essay.” I stare at her for a moment, and her eyes slide back down to my lips. I move in closer and her sweet, subtle scent instantly fills my nostrils. My lips hover above hers, our breaths blend together. I lick my lips as her eyes close. I cup her cheek and lower my lips to hers, beating back the moan fighting to escape my throat. Her lips are soft and supple; I could kiss this girl forever. I want to take this further, I want to pick her up and carry her to my bed, but I have to refrain. She deserves more. I break the kiss and press my forehead against hers, willing my breathing to calm.

  “I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not.”