“Got your text,” he says, like he's fucking oblivious that everyone is staring at him. The door slams shut and the room goes dark again, allowing the projector to once again display the slide show that all two hundred plus students have been studying for the past half hour. “You said it was urgent.”I stand up, grab my backpack, and am grateful that I'm wearing boots today instead of heels, so that I can run up the steps and grab Ty by the arm.
“Let's go,” I whisper as I open the door again and the class groans. Once it's shut behind us, I pull out a cigarette and search around for Ty's lighter. It's gone. He reaches into his own pocket and retrieves it, wiggling it teasingly in the air between us.
“I stole it back when you weren't paying attention,” Ty says, and I can't figure out when that might have been. We've been hanging out on and off lately, always sporadically, never planned. We've gone for ice cream, seen a movie, even went to the game, which apparently means football. I've been going to the same university since I turned eighteen and got my GED and yet, I had no idea that we had a famous football team. Now all the sweatshirts I see with beavers on them make sense. We don't give a dam about your team! they say.
“Thanks for interrupting my lecture,” I say as he bums a cigarette off me and puts it to his lips. “Now I'll probably fail the class. The professor already dislikes me because I disagree with some of his interpretations.”
“Such as?” Ty asks as he lights up.
“The stupid fucking van Eyck painting with the couple and the dog, you know the one?” Ty raises his eyebrows and points at his own chest.
“Cashier, remember? Past work experience: whore. I don't know shit about paintings.”
“Don't belittle yourself like that,” I snap at him as I put the cigarette in my mouth and wait for a light. Ty pockets the lighter and leans forward, pressing the cherry of his cigarette against mine. Our faces are so close that for a moment, I forget to be mad at him. He has red and black piercings in his face today and a tight fitting wife beater draped over his chest. I take a few, quick, sharp inhales until the end of my Marlboro burns as orange as Ty's. “I hate when people do that.”
“Fine,” he says as we move away from the doors to the auditorium and up a steep slope towards the parking lot. “I won't say things like that if you tell me what this is all about.” Ty holds out his phone so I can see the text message I sent to him.
I need to talk to you. Soon. It's important.
“You're the only person I know that uses correct grammar and punctuation in a text,” he tells me as he puts his phone back in his pocket and blows smoke into the cool, moist air.
“And you're the only idiot I know that walks into a full lecture hall in the middle of class.” Ty shrugs and lets the cigarette hang limply from his mouth.
“Then don't send me text messages like that. You had me worried.”
“Worried?” I ask, and Ty gets pissed off all of a sudden. Without warning, he throws his cigarette to the ground and crushes it with his boot.
“Yeah, Never, worried. Is that such a fucking surprise to you?” I stop walking and just stare at him like he's crazy. Ty runs his fingers through his hair and holds out his hand like, What the fuck are you waiting for, let's go! I take a step back and watch as his dark eyes follow me.
“Don't talk to me like that,” I tell him in a voice that's as cold as the breeze that ruffles my hair. I was planning on telling you my secret. You can't talk to me that way. “I am sick and fucking tired of people talking to me like that.” Ty drops his hand and looks down, takes a deep breath and shakes his head.
“I'm sorry,” he tells me, but I'm done for the day. I can't go back to class, so I turn away from Ty and head off in the direction of the dorms. “What did you need to talk to me about?” he asks as I stomp through pine needles and under the massive trees that help make up the natural beauty that our school is known for.
“Just forget it,” I tell him as I pause at a crosswalk and adjust my backpack from one shoulder to the other. “It doesn't even matter. It's not important.”
“Bullshit,” Ty says, but his voice doesn't sound angry, it just sounds tired, and if I'm reading him correctly, shameful. Whatever his internal struggle is about, I don't want to know. This is why I don't get close to wounded guys. Guys like this, like Ty, they're just built to explode, to rain their burning past down on you and melt your soul. I should've kept my date with Rick. “Never … ” I look over at Ty and paste an angry frown on my face.
“Go home and cool off. When you do, come find me. For now, fuck off.” I start off across the road and pause on the other side when I hear Ty's voice sound out from behind me.
“You weren't planning on confessing your love for me or anything like that, were you?” he asks. And because I think it's a joke, I respond with, “Not in your wildest fucking dreams.” I turn around to see what his face looks like because people like Ty flash everything they're feeling through their eyes like a slide show, when a bus passes between us, loud and obnoxious, spewing fumes into the clear air. When it's gone by and I finally have a clear view, Ty is nowhere to be seen.
11
I'm sitting in the lap of this guy who smells good and who seems nice, but that I can't stand listening to when he talks. Everything he says comes out with an explanation point at the end of it. What are you majoring in?! and You have really beautiful hair! I keep him quiet by pushing my tongue into his mouth, wrapping my arms around his neck and grinding my hips into his growing erection. Yeah, sure, somewhere inside of myself I know that I use sex as an escape, that even now I'm using this guy to forget about what happened between Ty and me yesterday, but I just don't know how else to deal.
“Whoa!” I hear a voice from behind me followed by bubbly giggles. It's Lacey.
“What?” I snap as I stare at her. She's dressed in this teeny tiny pink dress that crinkles and sparkles when she moves. Her legs are golden and long, lean and perfect. The perfect Barbie doll. There are guys hanging all over her, but she isn't interested in any of them.
“I was looking for you,” she says with a laugh. I think she's plastered, but I'm not sure. I stand up, flicking away Exclamation Point Guy's hands as he grabs for me and clings to the fabric of the little black dress I chose tonight.
“Don't go!” he says, and I have to grit my teeth to keep from telling him to shut the fuck up.
“Keys,” I say as Lacey pushes away a guy who won't stop kissing her neck. I hold out my hand and shake my palm for emphasis. “Now.”
“Come on, Never. We want to go to the beach. That's why I was looking for you. Let's all go the beach together.” Lacey holds up her arms and the entourage behind her cheers their consent.
“Keys,” I repeat, unwilling to see Lacey perish in that stupid, little green car of hers. It would be both tragic and incredibly sad. She rolls her eyes and pouts her lips, but I don't take in any of it. “Keys.”
“Fucking fine,” she slurs as she reaches into her top and pulls them out. The blonde guy on her right groans and tries to lick the metal as she passes them over to me.
I shove his face back, grab Lacey by the chin and whisper, “Be careful.” I kiss her on the cheek and send her on her way with her promise to keep her phone on. Bad things can happen at parties like this. Horrible things.
“Are you coming back to me?!” asks Exclamation Point Guy. I close the door behind me and lean against it, letting my hair fall into my face, so that I can breathe for just a moment. I feel so jumbled and confused and messed up right now. I don't understand Ty any better than I understand myself. I thought he was making me better, but right now, I feel worse than ever. I put the base of my hand to my forehead, and slip my phone out of the inside pocket on my coat. Despite the fact that I'm wearing a sexy dress beneath it, I leave it on, like a layer of protection against the outside world.
No missed calls.
Fuck and damn it.
I put the phone away and lift up my head, putting a plastic smile on my face.
“Now where were we?” I ask the blonde guy with the nice chest and the pretty face. The guy who's so drunk that he's willing to do things he wouldn't normally do. The guy that I'll feel guilty about tomorrow. This isn't the type of man that I usually go for, not at all, but I feel like I need a break from those other kind, like I've got burn scars on my heart and body that haven't healed yet. I move across the room and swing my legs over the guy's knees. I unbutton his pants and try to ignore him when he talks.
“Are you going to blow me?” he asks. “I've never had a blow job before? Once, my girlfriend gave me a hand job though!” I pause with my hands on the waistband of his underwear. They're white briefs, not something I'm used to. The guys I fuck usually wear boxers.
“You have a girlfriend?” I ask and feel queasy inside. The blonde guy nods and tries to kiss me, but I turn my face away, unsure if I want to go through with this. I feel kind of … sick. With myself, with Ty, with this person, whoever he is.
“Yeah, we've dating for two years, ever since we started going here. We met in a calc class!” he says as I lean back and wrinkle my nose. What are you doing, Never? You haven't slept with anyone since that night you blew off your date with Rick. Are you seriously going to throw a whole month away like this? What do you think you're going to get out of this?
“Look, uh,” I pull my hands away from Exclamation Point Guy and fold them across my chest. “You, um, I can't do this.” I shake my head and bite my lower lip hard enough that it bleeds. At least the pain wakes me up, tells me how stupid this really is. If I have a problem with Ty, I should call him. That's what a normal person would do. It's the only thing that makes any fucking sense.
As if summoned by my thoughts, my phone chirps at me, and I nearly fall off of the blonde dude's lap in my attempt to get it out of my pocket. There's a text. Just one. From Ty. My breath ceases to flow, and my heart doesn't pump.
hey Nevr sry i acted like a dick can u forgv me? i had a thng w sum grl. she trshed my place and i was pissed. no xcuses but i wanted u to know. call me.
I stare at the text for a moment.
“Come on,” moans Exclamation Point Guy as he reaches down and frees himself from his pants. I give him a tight-lipped smile, put the phone away and pull out a piece of gum. I stuff it in my mouth, scoot forward, and fuck him.
All the while I know that I'm making a stupid, fucking mistake.
12
I leave Exclamation Point Guy passed out on a bed and walk out of that party with a smirk on my face, twirling the keys around my fingers like some kind of female Casanova. When I get outside and find Lacey making out with some girl that really should be wearing a bra but isn't, I retreat to her car and sit in the front seat with tears pouring down my face.
I sob and shake and scream. I grab the steering wheel with an iron grip and contract the muscles and tendons in my hand so hard that I feel like they're going to burst out of my skin and kill me. I wish, I think as I pull my phone out and dial Ty's number. I put it to my ear and sit in the dark silence of the car, trembling. I don't know what I'm going to say to him. What did he to do me anyway? Nothing. Nothing at all, and yet I'm so mad, I could spit. Ty didn't make you fuck that guy, and he didn't break you. That wasn't him.
“I'm not broken,” I say aloud, but the only person I have to convince of that is me. Ty doesn't answer, and I don't leave a message because I don't know what to say to him. Suddenly, the loneliness of the car becomes stifling, and I have to climb out and walk back to the front yard where Lacey is lying on her back and looking up at the stars. She's holding hands with that girl, and they're both grinning like fools. “Let's go,” I say to her, wondering when I stopped enjoying being alone.
“You take the car, Never,” she says, eyes dewy and wide. “This is Trini's sorority house. She lives here.”
“I'm an Alpha Omega,” Trini says as the two girls turn towards one another and start to giggle. Lacey brushes Trini's dark hair away from her heart shaped face and they begin to kiss. I stare down at them for awhile, hoping they'll stop soon, but they don't. In fact, the longer I wait, the more intimate they get. Finally, I'm forced to retreat back to the little, green car by myself. It's a Fiesta, a gift from Lacey's dad. Wish I had a dad. Wish mine hadn't been murdered right in front of me. Wish I had someone to tell this secret, too.
I realize that I'm having a small anxiety attack and climb into the back seat for awhile to rest. As soon as my head hits the upholstery, I start to cry. Hours later, I fall asleep and spend the rest of my night in the back of Lacey's Ford, dreaming of one thing and one thing only.
Ty McCabe.
13
It's been almost three weeks since I last saw Ty, and I miss him so much it hurts when I move, like my muscles are sore from wishing too much. Why, I don't have any fucking clue. When I tell this to Lacey, she just smiles and gets all quiet. She's been acting strange ever since she met that girl, Trini. They hang out every available second of the day and even have these obnoxious sleepovers that make me want to grab my blankets and go curl up in the hallway. At least they don't have sex with me in the room. At least there's that.
“If you miss him so much, then call him,” she tells me with a roll of her eyes, like this is a duh moment that I am just not getting. “I bet he'd be thrilled to hear from you.” Lacey grabs her hair and twists it into a bun on the back of her head. As she does this, she watches me tack pictures to my wall. There are hundreds of them, and I'm determined to hang them all up. I've been working on this for days, plastering the wall next to my bed and planning to continue until I get to the closet. Lacey hasn't asked about them, but I saw her looking when she thought I was sleeping last night, using her phone as a flashlight.
“These are my sisters,” I tell Lacey who raises her pale eyebrows. I've never told her about them. Not once. She only knows a little about my mom because she found my belly dancing costumes stuffed in the back of the closet. To assuage her curiosity, I had to tell her something. “Beth is the oldest.” I pause and am royally pissed at myself for having to calculate my sister's age in my head. This is just something I should know without thinking. “I guess now she'd be about twenty-three.” I point to a picture of a pretty girl with copper hair and a smile that could disarm even the toughest heart. Beth. God, it's hard to miss someone so much and hate them at the same time. It's a disconcerting feeling. “I'm next in the lineup.” I move my finger across the wall like a pointer until I find a picture of me at sixteen. Lacey stands up and squeals.
“You were so cute!” she says as picks at the edge of the photo with her nails. They're painted bright yellow this week and while I find them obnoxious, I keep catching Trini sucking on them and telling Lacey how sexy they are. They're so goofy together that I have a sneaking suspicion that they think they're in love. I can't judge if they are or not; I'm not qualified, but if it's true, then I hope I never fall into it because when they're together, they act like idiots.
“Then there's Jade who's … ” I count in my head again. “Twenty. Zella who's nineteen. India would be sixteen now, I guess.” I sigh and try not to imagine my little sisters too clearly. The younger they were when I left, the more I miss them, the less culpable I hold them for what happened. Beth, Jade, and Zella are at least half responsible for me leaving. “Lettie is thirteen and Lorri is ten.” I point them all out, a sea of girls with pretty lips, pale skin, and eyes that sparkle with blue and green flecks. We all look like our mother, like a sea of copper haired clones. Except for Beth, Zella, and me, nobody shares the same father. My mom's as big a whore as I am.
I drop the pictures to my bed and they flutter down to the red and black comforter like a swarm of butterflies.
Tears are falling again, and I don't know why. I don't know anything anymore. I thought I had things figured out, at least a little bit. Stay busy, find a reason to live in the morning, cry myself to sleep at night. I didn't have friends, and I brushed bodies with bruised souls. Now I can't even stomach the though
t of sex and being alone makes me physically ill.
Ty has changed me; Lacey has changed me; I'm changing myself. Just everything's changing, and I don't know how to deal. It's happening fast, too fast for me to follow. I don't like it. I don't feel in control now. The world is spinning, and I can't stop it, no matter how hard I try.
“Hey,” Lacey says as she scoops the photos into a neat stack and sets them on the edge of her desk. “Why don't I blow off my date with Trini tonight, and we'll go out, just me and you. No boys, no girls, just a round of mini golf?”
I open my mouth to tell her how incredible that sounds when there's a knock at the door.
“Just a sec,” Lacey says as she touches my arm with her hand. “It's probably just Trini.” She moves to the door and opens it without bothering to ask who's there. Shame 'cause who's there is Ty.
He's standing in the hallway with a blue T-shirt, a face full of silver piercings and a pair of black jeans tucked into his black boots. The laces aren't just undone on these, they're missing entirely. His hair is free of products and hangs softly around his dark eyes and over his ears. His face looks strained, like maybe he hasn't had such an easy couple of weeks.
Good, I think as I grab my coat off the back of my chair.
“We're kind of on our way out,” I say with a tight-lipped smile. I search my pockets for gum and find some, stuffing it into my mouth, so I don't have to talk anymore than is absolutely necessary. Lacey looks between Ty and me, and with a grimace, steps aside to let him in. I give her a look that asks, What the fuck are you doing?
She cringes and grabs her own jacket off of a hook near the door, mouthing Sorry to me as she goes. When she gets back, I'm going to ring her neck.
I throw my coat onto the bed and cross my arms over my chest.
Ty is just standing there with his dark gaze trained on my face and a gentle frown tracing the sexy curve of his lips.
“What do you want?”
Tasting Never (Never say Never) Page 6