DEPRAVITY: KING UNIVERSITY

by Chance, Jacob

  “I know you don’t want to end this any more than I do, but we’re doing the right thing, Sophie.”

  “Are we?” She grips my wrists tightly and her bottom lip wobbles. “Because it sure doesn’t feel like the right thing when my heart is breaking.” A fat tear balancing on her bottom lashes tips over the edge. My thumb brushes it away before it can roll down her cheek and I immediately catch another. My chest squeezes painfully, knowing I’m the cause of every single one.

  “Yes, we are. You need to remember why we said this would only last until you went off to school.”

  “But I’m not going to college yet. We still have more time.”

  “I know, but it’s better if we do it this way. We had a great last day together. We made great memories.”

  “I don’t want this to be the end,” she cries.

  “You have a bright future ahead of you, and I refuse to be the thing holding you back.”

  “You wouldn't be holding me back, though. Why can’t we go through this together? I can do well in school and still be in a relationship with you.”

  “Sophie, you’re a freshman in college and you should act like one. You don’t need to be with a thirty-three-year-old single father. We’re at different places in our lives. We’d never last anyway. I’m sure of this.”

  I’m not sure of anything except my love for her, but I’m going to say whatever it takes to make her follow through with our separation.

  Chocolate pain filled eyes glare up at me. “I’m glad you’re sure of it. It’s nice that you get to make all the decisions and I’m expected to fall merrily in line.”

  “Sophie, I didn’t make this decision; we did. We laid down the ground rules when we were in Ocean City and I’m merely sticking to them.”

  “But that’s the thing, Miles. I don’t want to stick to them. We can rewrite the rules and make them whatever we want them to be.”

  “Some rules aren’t meant to be changed or broken. Some rules have no exceptions and you need to realize this. I’m not backing down on this, Sophie. When I’ve made my mind up, I commit and stick to the plan.”

  “But I love you,” she sobs. “I really do love you.”

  My thumbs once more skim the tears from her lower lids. “I know you do and I--”

  “Don’t. Don’t you dare say it back. I’d rather think you don’t love me than for you to tell me and let me go anyway,” she cuts me off, forcefully slamming her palms into my chest.

  My hands fall from her face, dangling helplessly between my legs. I want to pull her into my arms, but she needs to be angry with me. Her anger can get her through the hurt. I know this from experience after what I went through with Sandy and her infidelity.

  She sniffs, trying to be strong. “If you love someone, you love them. There’s no fucking but about it.” She pokes my chest.

  I catch her hand, raising it up to press the pad of her index finger on my lips for a kiss. “I love you and you love me. We both know deep in our hearts that our feelings are honest and real. I’m not the first man to love you, Sophie.” She shakes her head and presses her lips together as tears fill her eyes. She knows what comes next. “And I won’t be the last man to love you.”

  Her head falls forward as she silently cries. I pull her into my arms, holding her close, rubbing a palm up and down her back soothingly.

  Leaning forward, I bury my nose in her silky tresses and breathe in her flowery scent.

  Please let me remember this moment always.

  I hold still, savoring how her body curves into mine, like we’re two parts of a carving that fit together perfectly.

  Were we made for each other?

  We’ll never know for sure.

  In the end, it’s Sophie who draws back first. She bravely raises her tear streaked face, pridefully meeting my gaze. She’s stronger than she realizes and I know with time she’ll be fine. She’ll forget about me and settle into the college life.

  I almost envy her. She’ll have all the distractions around that college brings to keep her mind occupied, while I won’t.

  No. I don’t envy her. The truth is, I don’t want to get over Sophie. She’s the one for me. Unfortunately, sometimes the one is only for a brief time, not forever. We packed a lot of love into eight weeks.

  Maybe even enough to last a lifetime.

  Catching her chin between my thumb and index finger, I stare into her eyes. “You’re going to do great things, Sophie Gardner. Don’t let me down.”

  She inhales raggedly and nods. I cup her cheek once more with my palm and touch my forehead to hers. I can’t kiss her. If I do, I’ll never find the strength to let her go.

  “Be happy.” I husk my final words to her like a prayer to the universe.

  Please let her be happy.

  Rising, I turn and walk inside my house without looking back. Her sobs follow me to the foyer, but I fight the urge to stop and check on her.

  This is what’s best. Stick to the plan.

  I shut the door, closing myself off from her anguished cries. My stomach tosses and turns with nausea and regret as I lean my forehead against the door. I don’t want to leave her. Every part of me is rebelling against what I know is the right thing.

  My fingers curl into fists and I fight the urge to punch the wall. Gritting my teeth, I let out an anguished cry and finally find the strength to move away from the front door. Storming to the kitchen, I grab a shot glass and my half drunk bottle of whiskey. Filling it to just below the lip, I toss it back.

  You did the right thing. She’ll be fine in no time.

  I pour another one.

  You did the right thing. She’ll be fine in no time.

  With each glass I pour, I recite the same words as a reassurance for me and a prayer to whatever supreme being there may be.

  I don’t tell myself that I’ll be okay, because it’s a bald-faced lie and I won’t fall for it.

  Ten miserable minutes later, the first bottle of whiskey is empty, but I’ve found another. Sitting at the kitchen island, I down large gulps of the amber liquid. I remain frozen in the same place until I can’t physically force another sip past my lips.

  Sliding unsteadily from the stool, my hand still holding a half full shot glass, I walk on unsteady legs to the back of my house. Stepping outside, my boots clomp on the patio stones as I make my way toward the pool. Settling onto the lounger Sophie always used, I lean back and stare up at the night sky. Taking another sip of the amber liquid, I imagine I can smell her scent all around me. Each swallow of whiskey numbs the pain more.

  I’m glad Joey is with Miranda and I’m home safe because I have no intention of stopping anytime soon. I know this isn’t the answer, but for tonight, getting drunk is the best option I’ve got.

  22

  Sophie

  I’ve been sitting on this swing for so long I can no longer feel my ass or my legs. It seems fitting; numb ass to go along with my numb heart. Now if only I could find a way to numb my brain and forget the last two months.

  I think I’m still in shock.

  I left Miles’ house hours ago and I still can’t bring myself to go home. What’s waiting there for me? Not Miles and Joey. And they’re two of the people I care about most in this world. How will I make it through each day without them?

  In the past two months they’ve burrowed deep in my heart and have become the center of my world. But I know school needs to be the center of my world for the next four years.

  Miles was right to follow through with our plan, no matter how much it hurts. No matter how fucking agonizing it is. He’s stronger than I am. I couldn’t be the one to walk away first. Hell, I can’t even bear to go home and admit we’re over.

  “Miss, are you okay?” My eyes snap open to find a police officer holding a flashlight and looming over me.

  I’m not sure how long I’ve remained on the swing since I left Miles’ house. I’ve been lost in thoughts of him and memories of my favorite moments we had together. Many of the
m happened here, in this park.

  Did I doze off, or have I been that deep in my thoughts that I’ve lost all track of time?

  I rub the corners of my eyes and they burn from all the tears I’ve cried.

  “Yes, I’m fine.”

  “It’s dark out. You really shouldn’t be alone here, no matter how safe the neighborhood seems.”

  Slipping from the seat, I stand on shaky legs. I raise one foot and then the other to get the blood flowing and then shake each leg out.

  “Come on. I’ll walk you to your car.” His all-business tone brooks no argument from me. He shines the light ahead, aiding with the limited lighting. “Do you live nearby?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You’re okay to drive?”

  “I’m fine, sir. I haven’t been drinking and I don’t take drugs. I was just upset about something.”

  He carefully studies me as I pull my keys from the pocket on my jeans.

  “Okay. Drive safe.”

  He stays until I’m safely ensconced inside my car and I’ve started the engine. As much as I’d like to sit and waste some more time, I can’t. Pulling out onto the street, I drag deep breaths in one after another in preparation for driving past Miles’ house. This is the only way for me to go. There is no other option.

  You’re going to drive straight past without looking in his driveway. I coach myself but it’s for nothing because my head snaps to the left so hard as I creep by, I may have given myself whiplash.

  His SUV is parked in the driveway and the downstairs lights are still on. Is he in the living room sprawled out on his comfortable couch watching television? Or is he sitting in the backyard enjoying the peace and quiet?

  Am I on his mind at this very moment like he’s on mine? Or has he already tucked me away into some tiny compartment labeled summer fling?

  Angered by the thought of him being able to move on so easily, I step on the gas and focus on the road in front of me. Step on the gas and focus on the road in front of me. That sounds like a good life motto. I may have to adopt it.

  * * *

  Once I’m home, I dodge my parents and head upstairs to shower. One look at me and they would know I’m upset. Hell, even a complete stranger could tell. With my swollen eyes and tear stained cheeks, I look a sight. I’m pretty sure the cop thought I was out of my mind.

  In the bathroom, I set up my speaker and put on my favorite playlist, turning the volume up louder than I typically would. I turn on the water and strip off my clothes, leaving them in a heap on the floor. I’m too emotionally exhausted to care that I’m being a slob. Surviving this impending breakdown is all I can think about.

  The hot water washes over me and my eyes drift shut. Images of Miles appear behind my lids and they snap open once more. Oh God. How am I going to make it through this split if I can’t stop thinking about him for more than a few seconds at a time?

  Sinking to the shower floor, I lean back against the tile and invite the tears to flow. I want to purge myself of this sadness. It’s causing an intolerable pressure in my chest and I can barely draw in a breath.

  The more I cry, the more I silently berate myself for being weak.

  But is it really weakness to allow yourself to mourn the loss of someone you love? Allowing myself to crash into despair full force for one night is the best plan I can come up with. Tonight, I can be the grieving lover and open the flood gates. And then tomorrow, project forget about Miles Decker begins.

  That means, no thinking about him.

  No mentioning his name.

  No driving by his house or stalking any of the places he goes.

  No matter how much it sucks, I’m going to have to give my notice to Miranda. I can’t keep working at the bookstore when there’s a chance he might come in. Not that I’ve ever seen him there, but it could happen.

  Besides, looking at Miranda would only remind me he’s her brother, which will make me think of him. If I want to heal from this heartbreak as quickly as possible, I can’t have any reminders hanging around. A clean break and fresh start is what I need.

  After my shower, I throw on a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top. Slipping between the covers, I still feel like shit. But at least I have a plan in place and some hope that I won’t feel this way forever.

  Settling onto my pillow, I close my eyes and repeat the words I need to remember.

  Step on the gas and focus on the road in front of me.

  * * *

  “Hey, Miranda, can I talk to your for a minute?” Today’s my last official day on the calendar, but she was planning on adding me back in once I figured out my class load.

  “Sure, hon. What do you need?”

  “Unfortunately, I’m not going to continue working now that school is starting.”

  “I thought you wanted to stay on some?”

  I search for the words I’d planned to say, but they’re noticeably absent at this moment. Anxiously twisting my hair around a finger, I avoid looking at her.

  “What’s going on with you?” Miranda’s eyebrows come together as she frowns pensively.

  “Nothing.”

  “You’re acting strange. Almost as strange as my brother.” Her frown switches to a look of surprise. “Did something happen between you guys?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” Playing dumb seems to be the best option.

  “Did you guys get involved... romantically?”

  Oh shit.

  “No. Why would you think something like that?”

  She studies me closely. “Miles was a bear when I saw him yesterday. You wouldn’t know anything about why, would you?”

  “No, not at all. The last time I saw him he was fine.” He was well enough to walk away without looking back.

  “Are you sure I can’t convince you to wait and see how things go before you make a final decision?”

  “No, I need to take a break. My parents want me to keep my schedule as open as possible. They're worried I’m going to overdo it and burn out.” Miles’ words about how college can burn you out come to mind, but I shove them away.

  “Okay, I can understand that. And I certainly don’t want you to feel like you have to please me. You know I adore you and you’ll always have a job here anytime you want.” She smiles and steps forward to hug me. I squeeze her tight, knowing this is the last time I’ll see her for now. Hopefully, someday, I’ll be over him and I’ll be confident enough to return as a paying customer. This place has been a haven for me for the past year. Working here didn’t feel like work at all. I hate him a little for indirectly driving me away.

  * * *

  “Okay, give me all the juicy details of what’s going on with you and Miles.”

  “Pfft, you’re going to be disappointed.”

  “What do you mean? Last I heard, you were getting your world rocked on a regular basis by him.”

  “I was.”

  “And now? Jesus, girl. Spit it out. Don’t make me beg.”

  My shoulder tips in a half shrug. “Now we’re over.”

  “What? Why? Why would you end something that was going so well?”

  “Miles said all along that once I started school we were through. I just didn’t think that rule would stick.”

  “When’s the last time you saw him?”

  “Three days ago.”

  “Why didn’t you call me and tell me what was going on? You texted me as if nothing was wrong. I would’ve been there for you.”

  “I know you would’ve, but I had to work through it myself.”

  I don’t want Tenley to take it personally, but it seemed like something for me to face alone. And I’m glad I did. My heart’s still broken and I’m not anywhere near being over him. With how much I love him, I doubt I ever will be. But I’m able to stop thinking about him every thirty seconds. Each day the time span grows and the pain in my chest lessens. When I catch myself remembering moments with him or wondering how he’s doing, I shut those thoughts down immediately. And at night
I cry myself to sleep. Suddenly I’ve become a crier and I can’t seem to keep the tears at bay.

  So much for one night to let all the tears out. I guess I have an endless supply.

  “How are you doing with the breakup?”

  “I don’t know if you can even call it that. Were we really together? We never labelled what we had and he sure ended it easily enough. Maybe I was just a summer fling to pass the time.”

  “You don’t think that do you? Come on.” She arches a brow skeptically.

  “Oh shit. I just thought of something.” My eyes open wide and I slip my fingers over my lips. “What if I was just the easy way to get him back into the dating world. I was the kiddie pool he could dip his toe into without making giant waves.”

  “He dipped more than his toe in that pool.” She smirks.

  “Shut up. I’m being serious. What if I was just the easy choice?”

  “Sophie, that’s not why he was with you. You’re gorgeous, intelligent, and the best person I know. How could Miles not see all of those qualities too?”

  “Him letting me go the way he did, I’m finding it harder to believe that he really cared.”

  “Have you looked at it from his perspective?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s older than you, divorced, and a single father. Maybe he’s thinking ‘there’s no way this girl is meant to be mine forever. She deserves better than me and I love her enough to make sure she gets it.’”

  Is that how he felt? I know my age bothered him because he would joke about being an old man. And I saw firsthand just how battle=weary he was from his ex-wife. Maybe he didn’t feel like he had enough left to offer me.

  “Hmm, maybe. I hope you’re right. The thought of him using me in any way turns my stomach and makes me question everything I feel for him.”

  “Either way you guys are through, right?”