Progress (Progress #1)

by Amalie Silver

  If I was being honest with myself, the thought of taking things to the next level with Jesse scared the shit out of me. There was too much intensity between us. Too much history. Too many things about him that made me doubt myself. Who he was to me held too much weight.

  The contradiction of what he meant to me and the man he actually was alarmed me. That didn’t make us some kind of epic love story. That was just me, reading into what I meant to him.

  And the only way to stop it was to move on.

  No matter how much I wanted to believe I knew him, and that I could feel his thoughts, we still hadn’t admitted that what we had went beyond a friendship. I knew what we had. So did he.

  Maybe somewhere deep down I knew what he was going to tell me, but didn’t want the confession to come. I’d continually interrupted him in fear he’d say the words out loud that had been shouting at me in my head for weeks. Because I wasn’t sure what I wanted to hear him say anymore.

  The ‘yes’ I gave to Ryan had more to do with me than it did with Jesse. Ryan was exactly what I needed, when I needed him. There was no pressure to be someone special. Either I was or I wasn’t.

  The point was that he thought I could be. Upon first glance, I could’ve been someone to him. Upon first glance. That meant more to me than accepting the date.

  I worked that afternoon, and we had arranged to meet at The Crimson at six o’clock that night. After my shift, I hurried to the bathroom and put on a black pencil skirt and V-neck red sweater. He’d mentioned coffee, so I wasn’t concerned about a dress code.

  But the moment I slung my purse into a booth in the bar, I realized that our location hadn’t been the most discreet. Angie and Karalee were ecstatic for me and they giggled in the corner, keeping their eyes on the front door.

  My eyes shifted wildly, sensing Jesse was near. I looked over my shoulder and around the bar. Then I lifted my chin to see over the partitioned wall to get a view of the kitchen. But I couldn’t see him.

  I should’ve told Ryan to meet me someplace else.

  “Hey, Red.” I jumped as Jesse slid into the booth. His eyes were glossy and he slurred his words. “Come here often?”

  I slouched and looked away. “You’re drunk.”

  He grabbed the menu from the stand at the edge of the table and panned his options.

  “I’m not staying tonight,” I added.

  He raised a brow without pulling his eyes from the menu. “Can’t I order food? Why would I give a shit if you stayed?”

  I cleared my throat and buried my hands underneath me.

  “Oh, that’s right. You have a little date tonight, don’t you?”

  He laughed. It was a courtesy laugh that I hadn’t seen since the night I met him.

  “Are you going to fuck him?” he asked without looking up, adding emphasis to the word fuck. He closed the menu and leaned over the table to speak softly. “Or are you going to hold off on that for a while?” he continued, talking quickly. “Maybe give him blowjobs and handjobs for the rest of your life? Greet his parents every evening with a handshake that smells like their son’s sac? Let him blow his load down your throat five minutes before you kiss his mother goodbye on the cheek?” He swallowed, and his eyes welled with tears. “Because that would make you nothing but a whore, Charlie.” The tone in his voice was entirely different from the look in his eyes. “That’s the kind of girl that gets used. Someone worthy of being called a tramp. Just don’t come crying to me when the tingling scabs form around your mouth, because I’m not the kind of guy who deals with sluts.”

  “No, you’re not,” I snapped back, keeping my voice low. “You’re the kind of guy who would fuck a fourteen-year-old if it was legal. That screams ‘class.’ Hell, Ryan’s dad couldn’t even pass for my boyfriend. So I guess there’s one thing our choices don’t have in common.”

  “You’re a fucking bitch.”

  “Am I interrupting something?” Ryan’s voice came from beside us.

  I looked up and softened my scowl. Ryan’s dreads were pulled back into a low ponytail and his dark green eyes smiled down on me.

  “Hey!” I chirped. Ryan looked over at Jesse, and I’d never seen a smirk on Jesse’s face so evil.

  “We should go,” I said quickly, grabbing my purse.

  “It’s not like you to be rude, Charlene,” Jess cut in. “Introduce me to your new friend here.”

  I worried what he would say. I feared what kind of backlash it would cause. I was scared of what Ryan would think about the company I kept. Jesse’s words from a few seconds earlier still wreaked havoc to my stomach, and I regretted what kind of person was rooted so deeply into my heart.

  “I’m Ryan. It’s nice to meet you.”

  Jesse bounced to a stand but fumbled his balance. Holding the table for support, he shrugged his shirt into place. “Hey, new friend. I’m Jesse, Charlie’s bestest friend in the whole wide world.”

  “Oh! She told me about you. Hey, man.” Ryan held out his hand, but Jesse merely stared at it as if it were his enemy.

  “Come on, Ryan,” I urged with a tug on his shirt. “Let’s go.”

  “What did she say about me?” Jesse slurred. “Come on, we’re all friends here.” He held his arms out at his sides and looked around the bar. “What did she tell you?”

  I rubbed my forehead, kept my head down, and held my breath.

  Ryan shrugged and looked over at me. His eyes held concern, but he answered Jess anyway. “Your name came up randomly in conversation. She didn’t say much.”

  “No? She didn’t say much?” Jess countered.

  “No.” Ryan shrugged again. “Not that I remember.”

  Jesse grabbed his arm. “So she didn’t tell you about the night we met? Or about the frogs and the dragonflies? Did she tell you about the park or the CD I made for her or the cabin? Did she tell you about the cabin? That’s a good story…”

  All I could do was watch silently as the mania took over. Stopping him would’ve caused more harm than good. He was digging his own grave and there was nothing I could do about it.

  “…Did she forget to mention the time she bailed me out of jail and the nights we stayed up talking and not talking and the family reunion I took her to? Did she tell you about my bipolar or that time we held each other in her bed or all the times I was an asshole to her when she didn’t deserve it?” He scratched his nose and blinked his eyes. His body was frail and his eyes held no light. “What about the song I wrote for her? Did she tell you about that?”

  My chin quivered as I squeezed my eyes shut. I had nothing to say. If there was a song, I didn’t know about it. And if what he was saying held some kind of confession about how he felt about me, he was definitely doing it the wrong way.

  I’d put up with that mouth of his for months. How much longer could I do it without calling him out on it? How much longer could I let him treat me that way? He’d quite possibly ruined any chance I had at enjoying my first date—that was if Ryan still wanted to take me.

  “Ryan?” My voice caught in my throat. “Can I talk to Jesse for a moment alone?”

  “Of course,” Ryan mumbled and stepped into the lobby.

  I closed the distance between us. “You wrote me a song?”

  He rolled his eyes and huffed out a breath. “But it doesn’t matter, does it? I saw the way you looked at him just now.” He raked his hands through his hair. “Fuck. He made you blush, Charlie,” he whispered, pain riddling his eyes as he held his side. “Fuck this. Go.” He stepped away from me and raised his voice. “Go have fun with your dirty, smelly, scrawny hippie. I’m sure he’ll be perfect for you.”

  “Jess, I’ll stay. I’ll stay, I will.”

  He shook his head, biting the inside of his cheek. “You won’t.” His hands balled into fists. “Fly away, little bug,” he whispered and walked out of the bar.

  I stood for a moment trying to come up with a compromise. I could’ve run to the lobby and told Ryan I needed to reschedule, then gone off to
find Jess. But when would enough be enough? Would I keep running to him for the rest of my life, making him some ongoing project that was sure to thwart my happiness?

  I don’t know why I was always so obsessed with him. There was a light about him that was clouded by regret, hate, and abandonment. Maybe it was that I knew I was the only one who could help. Or it could have been because he’d let me into a place that no one had ever been before. But I’d tried the best I could. I’d fought like hell to blow away the dust and clean up the ashes so that the light could shine through.

  And I’d failed.

  The right thing to do was to let Jess go, go on my date, and deal with any repercussions later. He’d left me hanging dozens of times before, keeping me in the dark about how he felt.

  The right decision should’ve been obvious, but it tore me up inside to think about leaving Jesse alone.

  He was a friend in need.

  Jesse had walked toward the kitchen, likely out to his car in the lot behind the building. And Ryan waited patiently in the lobby, trying to act interested in the wall-mounted plaque that held The Crimson’s history.

  Maybe I needed to take Jesse’s advice and put myself first for once. Or maybe I should’ve run toward the kitchen, through the swinging doors, and out to the parking lot. Jess was probably waiting for me on the hood of my car.

  But I didn’t.

  I followed my gut and walked toward the lobby.

  Proving to myself that I was worth some fucking effort was what I needed to do. No matter how Jesse felt about me because of it.

  “You ready?” I asked Ryan.

  “Are you okay? Is he okay?”

  I exhaled. “He’ll be fine. He was just drunk. He’ll go home and sleep it off.”

  He scratched the back of his neck. “Are you sure? It seemed like he—”

  “I’m sure.” I pushed the breath from my lungs and the dread from my eyes. “He does this a lot.”

  Nodding his agreement, he set his hand on the small of my back and opened the door. “Still up for coffee, then?”

  ***

  For the majority of the ride to Minneapolis, I was entangled in confliction. Not only had I pushed my concern for Jesse aside, but I also had to wonder if I’d made the right decision. My stomach ached. I was wrong for the right reasons and right for the wrong ones.

  But if I was going to make any progress in the me department, I had to start somewhere.

  By the time Ryan parked the car, I’d made a conscious effort to block everything else out.

  No more regret. No more worry. No more heartache.

  “Have you ever been here before?” he asked in his refreshingly quiet tone.

  The words Battery Acid were printed in a whitewashed font above the door, and the red brick building held all of the hometown classic charm of uptown: black bars ran across the windows, and decorative wooden accents and flower boxes adorned the exterior.

  “Nope. I haven’t been a lot of places,” I admitted.

  His cheeks buried his eyes in a wide smile, and he held the door open for me as we entered. “This is my favorite place to go. You’re going to love it. They play The White Stripes every night.”

  “What are white stripes?” I asked.

  His hand swept over his chest in an exaggerated attempt at being appalled. We stood in the small entry as his tall frame hovered over me. “You don’t know The White Stripes? They’re a band.”

  “Oh.” I slouched. “Music.” I rolled my eyes, thinking how out of place he and I were together. “I’ve never been a big fan.”

  He bellowed an airy laugh. “You realize you’re on a date with a musician, right? I’m a composer.”

  The word date swirled in my stomach. “Yes?” I laughed. “I’m not anti-music. I’m just…maybe I haven’t really found anything I like yet.”

  “Well,” he grabbed my hands and his eyes smiled down on me, “we’ll have to fix that.”

  I bit my lip as he opened the door that led into the café.

  An overwhelming stench of patchouli hit me as I entered, and the room was packed with almost a hundred people ranging in ages and physical traits. From late teenagers to baby boomers, everyone had tattoos, dreadlocks, black fingernails, or facial piercings.

  I kept checking my hands to see if they trembled, but so far, so good. A faint aroma of chocolate and espresso hit me next. We approached the counter and Ryan slipped his hand onto my back once more. I straightened my back, but stopped myself while flinching away from his touch.

  “There’s a table in the corner,” he said loud enough to be heard over the noise in the room. “Why don’t you go sit down and I can get us our drinks?”

  I nodded. “A white chocolate mocha?”

  “Good choice.”

  Tiny white candles sat in the middle of every table, the walls held artwork from local artists, and the seating was mismatched. A scratched and worn table sat in a dark corner, and I hurried over to it before anyone else could claim it.

  I closed my eyes briefly, giving myself a pep talk. It wasn’t that I was scared of Ryan; the man looked like a six-foot-four, dread-locked, friendly troll. His eyes were honest and he held none of the feeling I got when I looked at Jesse. My fear stemmed from a deeper place inside of me—a place where trying new things and experiencing new people wasn’t anything I was used to.

  But it wasn’t enough to ask him to take me home. I wasn’t scared enough. And that’s what propelled me to stay.

  “So tell me more about Charlie,” Ryan said, sitting down in the chair across from me. The candle flickered with his arrival and the crowd’s laughter faded into the distance. “We’ve covered college, the city you live in, and your friend.” He raised his eyebrow. “What else do you do?”

  I warmed with his words, and smiled at the easy conversation. “I paint. I draw. I smoke.” An actual giggle escaped my mouth. “I drink a lot of coffee. And I’ve lost over seventy pounds in the last six months.”

  I didn’t know why I said it. If I’d thought hard enough, I would’ve realized I’d said it just in case he would ever want to see me naked. Just in case he wondered about the loose skin and the faded stretch marks. Just in case he might be proud of me.

  Because I was proud of me.

  His eyes opened wide. “Seventy pounds? That’s amazing, Charlie! How did you do it?”

  Aaand not so proud anymore.

  If I’d told him the truth, he probably wouldn’t have believed me. So I went with the safest bet.

  I lied.

  “Exercising. Good eating habits.” I shrugged. “I still have a few left to lose, but I’m in no hurry.” I scratched my temple and quickly changed the subject. “Tell me about you.”

  So much of the past few months had been defined by my friendship with Jesse that it was hard keeping him out of any conversation. My poor parents had to endure so much Jesse nonsense that I felt bad for putting them through that kind of torture. It was best if I kept the conversation about me—and inevitably Jesse—as far away from Ryan as I could.

  He wasn’t much of a talker until I got him on the subject of music, and then he rattled my ear off for the rest of the night. I’d opened some kind of vortex to a classic rock kingdom, and his words took me on a ride through his thoughts.

  There were so many things to like about Ryan: He had a quiet and shy way about him. His touch was gentle and his eyes remained bright, giving me most of the things I craved from a guy on my first date.

  He was a perfect gentleman, adorable, and I couldn’t have been more grateful for his candor.

  If he called me again for a second date, I vowed to stop comparing him to Jesse.

  We pulled up next to my car in the back lot at The Crimson. Ryan turned down the music and leaned back in his seat, rubbing his palms against the thighs of his jeans. “Well, Charlie. I had a great time tonight. You’re really easy to be around.”

  “I had a good time, too.” I kept my head down, tucking a stray curl behind my ear. “
Maybe we could—”

  “Do it again sometime?” he finished my sentence.

  I smiled with a nod. “Yes.”

  He exhaled. “Good. I’ll call you this week. Weekends work best for me because of school.”

  I laughed. “Weekends are usually bad for me because of work. But I’m not usually there too late.”

  He swallowed and my stomach flipped, though I couldn’t be sure if it was because of his intentions of kissing me goodnight or if I was reacting to his thoughts about me. Either way, I was eager to put my nerves to the test.

  My body quaked briefly as I buried my hesitation.

  “May I kiss you?”

  I answered his question by leaning into him, closing my eyes, and parting my lips.

  His mouth was soft, smooth, and I didn’t carry the same kind of anticipation I thought I would. No butterflies came. The feeling was deeper—lower—and assuming. His hand slipped behind my neck and his tongue gently touched my lip.

  My heartbeat increased, the apex between my thighs ached, and I fought like hell to remove Jesse’s face from the backs of my eyelids.

  Breathing heavily, he pressed his forehead against mine and swallowed. “Talk to you this week, then?”

  I nodded, smiled, and raked a hand through my hair. “This week.”

  “Thanks for saying yes, Charlie.”

  I opened the car door and turned back to him. “Thanks for giving me a reason to say yes.”

  He drove slowly out of the parking lot, and I kept my eyes on his little black car as it drove away.

  “It’s just going to take some time,” I whispered to myself.

  Sighing, I lifted the handle and sat down in my driver’s seat. As I turned the key, I looked up and gasped.

  Not only was ska music blaring at the highest volume from my radio, but a single white daisy sat on my windshield.

  Shivers bubbled through me, and I could do nothing but bury my face in my hands and allow the tears to come.

  Chapter Two