Blindness

by Ginger Scott

  I watch as he disappears out the door, my tongue still rendered useless. My arms and legs are tingling with panic. I turn back to Trevor, who’s looking out the same door Cody just left through, with the same shock I’m feeling; though, I’m sure, for a very different reason. He finally turns to me, his eyes caught somewhere between confused and furious. Thankfully, Kevin interrupts.

  “Great, can’t wait to see you on the course. I hear you have a great drive,” he says. “Restroom?”

  Trevor points Kevin down the hall, and I secretly wish he wouldn’t leave us alone. I don’t know where this conversation is going to go, and I somehow fear Trevor saw me holding Cody’s hand. The room starts to spin a little, and I falter, leaning on the counter to catch my balance. Trevor runs over to me, and puts my arm over his shoulder to hold me up. “Whoa, are you okay, babe?” he asks, suddenly less interested in the drama about to unfold on a fairway, and more worried about me.

  “I’m fine; I’m okay. I just got dizzy for a minute there. Get me some water maybe?” I ask, sitting back on the stool, and pressing my forehead into my hand. Trevor pulls a glass from the cabinet and fills it with ice water for me. I lay my head on the counter for a few minutes until the spinning subsides. I know what happened—I had a panic attack. I used to get them a lot right after Mac died. The room is right again, but I’m pondering playing my dizziness up a little more, thinking maybe it will get me out of this nightmare. I’m about to fake illness when Kevin comes back in.

  “So where’s this course?” He asks Trevor, who is just staring at me, trying to gauge if I’m really okay or not. I’m still unsure which way I want to lean when the other door suddenly opens, and Cody’s back. He’s wearing a slim pair of gray pants and a gray and black striped golf shirt, the material tight across his chest, and the preppy-look surprisingly sexy against his winding tattoos and piercings. He has a snap front hat on, and he tips it forward when he looks at me.

  I realize Trevor is watching me look at him, and I quickly adjust my reaction. Trevor holds his mouth in a tight line, and I can see the muscles in his jaw flex. “Cody, you’ll have to drive yourself. We’re playing at the Pines. We’ll meet you there. Kevin, you can follow me,” Trevor says, almost barking orders at everyone.

  I hate when Trevor gets like this. I’ve told him before I don’t like the alpha. I can tell Kevin senses the tension in the room, because he’s looking between Trevor and Cody the same way I am—only I have the pleasure of full disclosure. And I almost long for the days when I was blissfully ignorant to their relationship, let alone the bad blood between these two and just how deeply it ran.

  I head upstairs to escape it momentarily and put on my golf pants and one of my old shirts. I go to the range from time to time just to keep my skills up, but it’s been a while since I’ve been on the course. I’m almost thankful that I have my game to concentrate on for the next three hours.

  By the time I get downstairs, everyone’s waiting in their cars, and as soon as I shut the door, Cody takes off. I fight to keep myself from looking toward his truck as it pulls away, forcing my gaze to Trevor’s BMW, where he’s waiting with his arm along the window, his fingers tapping impatiently. I can feel my heartbeat kick up in my stomach. Dread—I’m experiencing actual dread.

  Trevor’s silent for most of the ride. I keep making small talk. I mention the office assignment I’m working on for my internship, designing space for a triangular building. Trevor doesn’t even bother to nod in reaction, and I can tell he isn’t listening, but I keep throwing new topics out there, hoping that if I keep the silence from building too much, he won’t burst. I make a tactical error, though, when I bring up this morning’s coffee, and how terrible it was.

  “So what the fuck, are you and Cody coffee buddies now or something?” Trevor’s tone is jealous, and he’s speaking to me like I’m someone else entirely. Honestly, I don’t think he’s ever raised his voice to me—not once.

  “I’m sorry?” I ask, pretending I don’t know where his anger is coming from, and also fighting against my new urge to jump to Cody’s defense. I can tell now is not the time.

  “Do you know how embarrassing it is, Charlotte? I bring Kevin Sumner home to meet you, and we find you in there all chummy and shit—with him!” he says, his eyes flicking between me and the road, his hands tight around the steering wheel, and his breath slow and heavy. I’ve never seen him this angry, and I clutch my purse in my lap, squeezing it to keep my own temper at bay. Mac’s temper.

  “Trevor, I’m being polite to your stepbrother. He came in while I was drinking coffee—I poured him a cup, and then you came in with Kevin, that’s all,” I say, knowing full well that was only the beginning, but suddenly feeling like I have every right to everything else that happened—and also feeling protective over it.

  I’m braced, waiting for Trevor to fight back, when he sucks in a deep breath and blows it out, starting to laugh. “I’m sorry,” he says, and I feel my grip loosen. “Cody just pisses me off. I don’t trust him, and I don’t want him filling your head with crap about my dad.”

  I wait, taking in everything he says, before I answer. Part of me wants to question him, spark a debate, now armed with everything I learned from Gabe the night before. But we’re pulling into the course—not the time to open up the massive, relationship-threatening argument over how Jim treats Cody. So instead, I smile and just tell him it’s okay, that I understand.

  I’m a liar.

  We pull in and park right behind Cody’s pickup. I can see him sitting in it, his eyes locked on me in the rearview mirror. I’m lost in them instantly. Even as I pull the visor down to check my lips and teeth, I keep an eye on Cody. And I swear I can see his smile. But it’s gone the instant Trevor leans over and kisses my neck. And when I look back, Cody’s eyes are gone, too—and my stomach sinks.

  Kevin pulls in next to us and joins us at the trunk where Trevor’s pulling out our clubs. “Cody, you’re going to have to rent a set. I only brought mine and Charlotte’s,” Trevor says. He has an extra set at home; I’ve seen it. My heart falls knowing he did this on purpose. I turn to Cody to catch his reaction, and he just shrugs.

  “Wait, we can share,” I pipe in, my pulse racing at this gauntlet I decided to throw down. I can feel the weight of Trevor’s stare on me, and I know I’ve pissed him off. I tighten my lips and breathe in through my nose for courage to move forward. “I’m pretty tall, and if Cody doesn’t golf much, he won’t mind the shaft. It’ll help your game.”

  I wink at him, hoping he’ll play along. Just then, Trevor reaches around me to pull me close, almost like a warning, boasting his possession of me. And that’s when Cody’s face falls. I see it wash over him—the inferiority and hopelessness. “Thanks, Charlie, but I’ll just rent a set,” he says, taking off quickly for the clubhouse.

  I know he said my name just to eat away at Trevor. Cody doesn’t know why I don’t use that name, but he knows enough to realize that it makes him special that I don’t correct him anymore. And he’s right, and Trevor knows it, too. I see him react the second it leaves Cody’s mouth, but I decide to ignore it. If he brings it up, I’ll pretend I didn’t notice, and tell him I’ll listen for it next time. Part of me feels guilty that I’ve given this piece of me to Cody, the same part of me that’s drowning in confusion over why I’m thinking about him so much and working so hard to get closer to him. It scares me. But not enough to stop. Not yet.

  Kevin was oblivious to the entire exchange, thank God. He was busy straightening out his clubs and changing out his shoes. Once he’s ready, we all head for the clubhouse to meet Cody at the rental station. I feel Trevor’s grip tighten on my hand just before we walk in the door, and he pulls me back a little out of Kevin’s earshot.

  “It’s important for Kevin to like me,” he says, his eyes willing me to understand and comply. “Can we please not try to save my brother today? Is that okay with you? I promise, I will try to be nicer to him in front of you. But just today…give me
today?”

  I force myself to understand Trevor’s perspective. He only knows what his father tells him, and his father has been his only parent for most of his life. I squeeze his hand back and bring it up to my lips to kiss it and give him a reassuring smile.

  “I promise,” I say. I can see him relax instantly, and in that moment I’m reminded that I’m his girl, and that if what I’m doing is trying to save Cody, I should remember to keep Trevor’s best interests in mind, too.

  Despite not playing for months, I find my swing pretty quickly. I’m stroking the ball well, and Kevin keeps remarking how impressive my game is. Cody’s been quiet most of the day, which I know is making Trevor happy. He’s riding in the other cart with Kevin, and barely saying a word at every hole—only answering a question here and there that I overhear Kevin ask. Mostly, Kevin is talking about himself.

  Surprisingly, Cody’s game isn’t half bad. I can tell he’s played before. He’s hit a few bogeys, for sure, but he’s also parred a hole or two. I haven’t really been looking at the scorecard, but I think he’s beating Kevin, and I feel a strange tinge of pride at that.

  The drink-cart girl pulls up, and Kevin offers to buy us all a round. She’s cute, about my age, and is wearing tight shorts and a fitted top with the buttons opened low enough to show the lace trim of her white bra. I laugh a little to myself as I notice all three guys staring at her ass when she scoops out ice. I’m watching her pour Cody’s drink, and I notice she spends a little extra time talking to him. When she’s done, he hands her a tip, and she flips her hair back to giggle. So typical, I’m ready to dismiss her. But then she leans in close and tucks a napkin in his back pocket, patting it once as she walks back to her cart to fetch Trevor and Kevin’s drinks.

  Cody walks back to our carts ahead of the other two, giving us a few minutes of alone time, the first we’ve had all day. I want to be pleasant, and more than anything, I want to survive this afternoon without a full-on anxiety attack. But for some strange reason, seeing some blonde bimbo hit on Cody has me fighting to think straight. And by the time he slides into the seat next to me, and smiles, all I want to do is grab his drink and dump it on his lap.

  “Hey, that guy? Kevin or whatever? He wasn’t kidding. You’re pretty good,” Cody says, his compliment for my golf game no distraction for the jealousy scorching through my veins. I don’t even have time to rationalize it before it comes out.

  “Yeah, well, some girls have talents like mine, while others just sleep around with assholes they pick up on the golf course,” I’m embarrassed the instant I hear my own voice, but it’s too late. I’ve already committed. And part of me is being honest—though, I’m pretty sure I’m not coming off well.

  Trevor and Kevin are heading back toward us, so I take my opportunity to sit in the other cart, away from Cody. I’m instantly grateful for the distance from him, but it’s short-lived as he slides next to me again. I twist my face to look at him, wishing like hell I had sunglasses on to hide the petty rage I can’t mask. His eyes are hidden, and it makes me even angrier. It doesn’t matter, though. I can tell he’s feeling smug and satisfied. He’s sipping on his drink, smiling at me the entire time.

  Trevor stands next to me and reaches around my body to give me a squeeze. I know he’s pissed that Cody took his seat, and now that I’m pissed at Cody, too, I decide to lay it on a little thick, leaning my head back just enough so Trevor can kiss my neck. I let out a faint “Mmmmmmm,” just loud enough for Cody to hear, and then tilt my head back right so I can start the cart. I don’t bother to look at Cody, but I catch a glance of his face in the mirror up above, and his smile is gone. I’m not prepared for the guilt that rushes in next.

  God, what is wrong with me.

  By the time we turn for the second nine holes, the boys are all a little tipsy. Kevin and Trevor continued to ride together, talking and bonding over law-school stories. I was left with Cody. But ever since my little display, he’s quit acknowledging me, too.

  I know it’s a bad idea the second I suggest it, but much like the rest of my day, I’m flying blind, throwing caution to the wind.

  “Hey, how about we play $10 a hole for the back nine?” I suggest. I’m throwing it out there, because I’m desperate for attention…and I honestly don’t even care from whom. Kevin, bless his little heart, is the first to chime in, saying he loves the idea. Though he jokes that I should give him a handicap.

  Cody’s indifferent and just shrugs at me. “Whatever,” he says. I hate that word.

  I turn to Trevor last. “Whadaya say?” I’m putting him on the spot. He knows I’m better than him, and he knows I’ve been holding back. I also know he doesn’t want to be embarrassed in front of Kevin, but right now, I don’t give a shit. I’m in total tantrum mode, pissed that I’m being ignored, and I want him to weep from his loss and break his clubs over his knee when he has to pay me for every hole.

  Trevor stares at me, trying to get a read on why I’m even suggesting this, and finally gives in. “Okay, but take it easy on these boys,” he jokes. I know what he really means—take it easy on him. Not a chance.

  I know it’s Cody that really has me angry, and deep down, I know I’m being childish. But all it takes is one more visit from the beverage-cart girl to send me over the edge. He actually takes his sunglasses off, for the first time all day, and leans in to kiss her on the cheek, smacking her ass a little as she leaves. Trevor just rolls his eyes, earning him a pass, but Kevin high-fives him. Cody slides back in next to me when she leaves and leans over just enough to keep his next words between us.

  “I bet she has more than one talent,” he says, raising his eyebrows and biting his tongue.

  That’s it—game on.

  For the next hour, I’m so focused it’s unreal. I drive the ball 240 yards off the tee, every time. I par out and even birdie the eighteenth. I’d be celebrating my best game in years if I wasn’t so goddamned mad.

  I win every hole, no one else even coming close. I can tell Trevor’s deflated, and I feel badly that I’ve embarrassed him. My senses are actually starting to come back to me by the time we’re parking the carts and are heading into the clubhouse, and when it comes time to settle up, I talk Kevin into keeping his money. This seems to make Trevor happy; I don’t think he wanted his girlfriend to take money from his mentor’s nephew, and I’m half-mortified that I even suggested the idea.

  Trevor and Kevin head out to the car to load their clubs, while I stay behind. I pretend I have to use the restroom, but I’m really waiting for Cody to finish checking in his clubs. I sit at one of the tables on the outdoor patio, right in his path, and my heart is racing in anticipation. I notice the drink-cart girl lingering by the bar, and I know she’s doing the same thing I am. God, I’m really no better than she is.

  My breath hitches when I see him step outside, and I hold it while I watch him reach into his pocket and glance toward the bar. I think for a moment that he’s going to walk over there and join her, leave her a card with his number, or buy her a drink. But he doesn’t even acknowledge her. I silently rejoice when I notice her pout. My heart is speeding up with each step Cody takes in my direction, my mind racing through things to say, ways to explain myself—my behavior. I’m toying with the idea of crawling under the table the closer he gets when it’s suddenly too late.

  “Hey, so that was all just a game. I’m sorry, I got a little carried away…I was mad at Trevor. You know? For ignoring me,” I say, only giving up a half-truth, but glad to see Cody stopped at my table. His glasses are still on, so it’s hard to read his expression. I’m about to begin the onslaught of apologies and tell him to keep his money when he drops two fifties on the table in front of me.

  “Keep the change,” he says, before he steps around me and continues his way to the parking lot. I just stare at the money on the table—money I know he can’t afford to give away without good reason—and instantly I feel dirty. On the surface, he was settling a bet, a bet I coerced him into without even
giving him a chance. A bet I used as a way to lash out at him, to throw a fit like a little spoiled girl because some chick caught his eye, even though I’m taken, and am happy to be—at least, I thought I was?

  But Cody knows I wasn’t going to make him pay. He was making a point—that I just threw him away because of pride and jealousy.

  And for the second time in only a few short weeks, I feel the urge to cry.

  Chapter 6: Mac and Me Time

  Kevin ended up spending the entire evening at our house for dinner. Trevor said I had really won him over, and that he was insisting I look at getting on Western’s golf team. I was flattered, but golf wasn’t really where my heart was anymore. It had always been a way to lose myself when I was a teenager, a sport I could do alone, on my terms. And when Mac started joining me for all of my matches, it quickly became about us. Competing just hasn’t felt right since Mac left.

  Besides, I planned on finishing out my semester at Western, and then transferring somewhere closer to Trevor. The schools I was considering weren’t really the kind that had extracurricular programs. And if I got on with a firm in the city, my internship would eat up most of my time.

  It’s been six days since Trevor left, and seven since I’ve seen Cody. The loneliness is starting to chip away at me. Jim is still in Chicago, and I honestly can’t remember the last time I’ve heard Shelly speak. She’s not really much for company, and when I bring my books downstairs to study near her, she usually grabs a bottle from the cabinet and heads up to her room.

  The sky outside is clear for the first time in days, and the chill is strong. It’s almost Halloween, and I know the snow is coming. Halloween makes me miss Louisville—it was the one time of the year Mac was always with me, even before we got along so well. I think being a cop made him fear something terrible happening to me while I was out trick-or-treating, so he always handled that night on his own.