October
It had been three and a half weeks since Brooke had left Roseville, and I’d been in a fucking bad mood ever since. The town I used to view as small felt damn near claustrophobic without her in it. I replayed our last night over and over, whether I wanted to or not. I couldn’t drive my truck without revisiting that night. One day I gripped the edge of my truck and just stared into the bed, seeing Brooke’s body lying there like a goddamn ghost. I could see the way her eyes darkened when I slid into her, the way her breath shuddered when she felt the full length of me buried within her body. The way her nails raked my shoulders as I moved my hips against hers, our eyes connecting as she met me thrust for thrust. Sex had never been like that before, never so intimate. It haunted me, tormented my mind that I’d only gotten one night before she slipped through my fingers.
Ruby showed up at my door two nights ago, a bottle of Jack in hand and a seductive smile on her lips. I stared at her, her blonde hair reminding me of the blonde who’d left me behind. I gave her the option of taking a chance on me, and she’d chosen to let me go. Why was I beating myself up over a Roseville snob? Discarding those below them was what they did. They took what they wanted and moved on.
That night I fucked Ruby until her moans replaced Brooke’s from my memory, until I erased every imprint Brooke had left behind. I even did something with Ruby I’d never done before; I stared into her brown eyes as I fucked her. I knew this was wrong, using Ruby to eradicate Brooke. Add it to the list of bad decisions I’ve made in my lifetime.
When morning rolled around, Ruby was gone and the memory of Brooke resurfaced. I hated what she’d done to me, how she’d changed me into someone I didn’t recognize, then left me to pick up the pieces. It would go away in time, this indescribable feeling consuming me. It had to.
October 19th
“You have to go,” Lily said for the umpteenth time. “You haven’t been to any of the parties, and what is college without the parties?”
I smiled as I watched her adjust her cat ears. “It’s still college, just minus the hangovers.”
Lily turned to face me. “I’m not saying you have to get drunk, Brooke. Just come to the Halloween party with me, have some fun. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how mopey you’ve been.” She sagged against the sink counter, her arms crossing in front of her. “Do you regret breaking up with James now that he’s dating someone else?”
“Seriously?” I asked. “You think I’m heartbroken over James?”
“Well, if it isn’t about James, then why so glum all the time? I hate to say it, but you’ve been a major downer, and it’s starting to bum me out.”
I picked at my chipping nail polish, trying to decide whether I should confess about my summer activities. Maybe talking to someone about it would help me sort through my thoughts. True to character, Lily was being dramatic. Just because I chose not to fraternize with the Greek system did not make me mopey. I’d decided not to join Delta Iota Nu and had no desire to hang around them. I was trying desperately to veer away from the girl I used to be, and by joining my mother’s sorority I would still be following my parents’ path. It was time to discover my own way, figure out who I was.
“All I’m going to say is that, yes, there was someone, and now there’s not. It didn’t work out.” I shrugged and looked up to see Lily’s reaction.
“Seriously? You’ve been Debbie Downer for almost two months, and all I get is that there was some guy?” The indignation in Lily’s voice wasn’t hard to miss. “Why am I just now hearing about this?”
“Honestly? Because I was worried what you would think if you knew who he was.”
“Oh my gosh! He’s not one of those meatheads from Kappa Rho is he?” Lily turned to face the mirror again, leaning in close as she applied eyeliner. “I heard they have a bracket system for the girls they sleep with. They make a game out it.”
Another reason why avoiding the Greek system is a good idea, I thought. “No, it’s no one from school.” I studied my best friend’s profile, took a deep breath and blurted, “It’s Dylan Crawford.”
Lily’s hand stilled, and her eyes found my face in the mirror. “Dylan Crawford, as in Roseville’s gigolo mechanic?” At my silence, she spun to face me, her jaw dropping so that her lips formed an O. “Seriously?”
I shrugged. “We talked at his sister’s party. He asked to spend my last week with me.”
“Of course he did,” Lily added. “He saw sweet, innocent Brooke Kingsley, knew she’d be an easy target, and swooped in like the villain that he is.”
“I am not an easy target,” I snapped. “And Dylan’s not like that. He was … sweet.”
“You little slut,” Lily said, her lips peeling back into a Cheshire cat grin. “You slept with him, didn’t you?”
This was why I hadn’t told her; she—along with everyone else from Roseville—had opinions about Dylan. I used to, too, but after getting to know him, all of my assumptions faded. No matter how short our time together—or how bad his reputation was—I knew the side of Dylan I’d seen was real.
Lily shrieked, laughing as she clapped her hands. “I cannot believe you lost your virginity to Dylan Crawford. Way to run before you walk, Brooke.”
“He wanted a long distance relationship,” I told her, needing to defend Dylan. I didn’t want Lily thinking it was a meaningless hookup.
Her celebration waned, and she stared at me, her lips pursed as she nodded. “Huh.”
“Huh?” I mimicked. “That’s all you’re going to say?” I could not believe I was having this conversation in our bathroom while my roommate and best friend was dressed like a sexy black cat. Even stranger, she hadn’t lectured me about Dylan like I thought she would.
Sucking in a deep breath, Lily said, “It’s no secret that you’ve liked him for, like, ever.” At my surprise, she added, “You’re not as subtle as you think, Brooke. I never mentioned it because I agreed that he was hot, and I never thought you would actually act on those feelings. I mean, your parents would shit themselves if they ever found out, and we both know you’re not the rebellious type.” Lily turned toward the mirror again and coated her lips in a sparkly red gloss. “But since I now know who’s responsible for your bummer attitude, I’m going to be brutally honest with you.”
I braced myself for her harsh truth, readied my mind for the barrage of criticisms coming my way, and realized that I needed to hear them. I was still living in the fantasy of those last days of summer, lost in a sea of endorphins brought on by my and Dylan’s whirlwind fling. Maybe a dose of tough reality was just the thing to shake me out of it. There were only so many songs I could write to spill my feelings before it became tiresome. I’d already gone through two notebooks.
“If what you say is true, and Dylan was sweet to you, appreciate that rare moment from him and the time you shared together. Not too many girls get to say they cashed in their v-card to their high school crush.” I smiled, loving that Lily’s response stunned me. “But,” she continued, her voice growing more serious. “It’s time to move on. You’re in college, and he’s a mechanic in a podunk town most people have never heard of. You guys come from completely different backgrounds and have different goals. Don’t put your life on hold because you’re too busy thinking about something that would never work. I’m sure he’s not moping around thinking about you. If anything, he’s probably back to his old ways and fucking anything that throws itself at him.”
I had agreed with her up until that last comment. The thought of Dylan with someone else made me sick to my stomach, maybe because I knew Lily was right. Dylan hadn’t tried to get in touch with me since I left, which meant he’d moved on just like I’d suggested. As much as I didn’t like it, I couldn’t blame him for doing what I told him to do.
“How about you come out with me tonight, have some fun, and find a cute boy to flirt with?” Lily asked. “Nothing helps get you over a boy like an even cuter one to distract you.”
I gave her a small
smile. “All right.”
October 26th
Being on campus made me anxious. Dana had begged me to visit her so she could show me how great her life was. Not wanting to disappoint my little sister, I made the hour drive. The closer I got to AU, the antsier I got. Having Brooke at the same school as my sister didn’t seem like that good of an idea anymore. I didn’t need another reminder of the girl who wormed her way inside my head. Each day got easier, though my underlying anger never seemed to wane. Women always wanted to take things to the next step with me. Having the shoe on the other foot sucked. It was an all-consuming sense of helplessness that I couldn’t shake. If I thought tracking Brooke down and demanding that she accept what was between us would work, I would have been walking up to her door instead of Dana’s.
Girls eyed me as I walked through the hall, their hushed whispers beating against my back. I eyed the jack-o-lantern cutout on Dana’s door, my hands in my pockets and my baseball hat pulled low over my eyes. If I just focused on that cheesy pumpkin, my eyes wouldn’t stray the halls in search of her. I knew Brooke had her own apartment, but that didn’t stop my mind from hoping she’d pop out of one of the dorms. Fuck. This was what pissed me off, her memory just popping into my head, fucking up my day.
“Dylan!” Dana squealed when she opened the door. Shoving my bad mood away, I smiled at my sister, encompassing her in a hug. Seeing her was like a rainbow popping through my rainclouds. Brooke’s departure wasn’t the only thing that made home emptier. I was proud of Dana, happy that she was extending her education and would get a good job, but I also missed her like crazy. I hadn’t realized how much I’d relied on seeing her until she’d left.
“Before I introduce you to my roommate, promise that you will not, under any circumstances, try to sleep with her,” Dana whispered into my ear. I reared back to look at her face, a little offended. If I was being honest, I was pissed at myself for being her slut of a brother.
“Promise,” I told her. With one last look, we headed into her dorm room. A pretty brunette girl sat at a desk, turning when we approached. She wore a pair of pajama boxers and a low cut tank top, revealing her fleshy cleavage. My eyes instinctively appraised the mounds before trailing up to her face: green eyes, small nose, and amused smile on her pink lips.
“You must be Dylan,” she said, standing up and holding out her hand to me. Smirking, I clasped her palm for a brief second before releasing my grip.
“This is Sara,” Dana said with a polite smile. I recognized it as her distasteful look, portraying manners all while thinking how much she hated the person. Southern hospitality at its finest.
“You didn’t mention how cute your brother was, Dana,” Sara quipped, crossing her arms just under her breasts so they pushed up against her top. I quickly realized that Dana’s warning about sleeping with her roommate wasn’t because she thought I couldn’t control myself; it was a warning about Sara. Her forward personality was one I’d come know very well. The girls I messed around with in Roseville all had it. Brooke didn’t, my subconscious whispered while I thought about how easily she blushed. Girls like Sara, though, didn’t know embarrassment. Up until Brooke, I always thought I admired that about them. Now I knew how appealing a little modesty could be, and the rewards of bringing that blush to Brooke’s cheeks.
“You ready to show me around campus?” I asked Dana, ignoring Sara altogether. Brooke had shown me that it was better to be admired by one girl rather than hit on by a girl who admired many.
“If you’re not in a hurry to get back home,” Sara interjected, “I invited Dana to a Halloween party.” She stepped closer, smiling up at me with a sparkle in her eye. “You’re invited, too.”
“Sorry, sweetheart, I have to get on the road tonight.”
Sara mock pouted. “Pity.”
Something occurred to me then: was Brooke going to be at the Halloween party? It was damn tempting to search her out, but what would I say to her? If the days we’d spent together hadn’t convinced her there was something between us, nothing would. The more I thought about how I’d put myself out there, confessed I wanted something more with her, the more it pissed me off. No, forgetting all about Brooke Kingsley was for the best. The sooner I let her go, the sooner I’d stop being pissed off at the world.
November
“Dude, we did it!” Jase punched my shoulder, a huge smile taking over his face. We’d just signed the papers that now made us the owners of The Pit.
“We keeping the name?” I asked as I popped the top on my Budweiser. My eyes roamed over the grease-covered garage, inhaling the scent of the chemicals and grime. The building was complete shit, needed more repairs than a junkyard car, but it was ours. I found myself smiling, proud of Jase and myself for accomplishing what we set out to do. It wasn’t a secret that the townsfolk didn’t hold us in high regard. With Jase’s temper and my whoring around, we were screw-ups in their eyes. Screw-ups who now owned a business.
“I was thinking Jase’s Place,” Jase said as stared at the space. “Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
Grabbing a dirty air filter, I flung it toward his chest and laughed when he bounced back and stumbled over a floor jack.
“Fuck you, dude.” I laughed. “You couldn’t have done this shit without me. I say we name it DJ’s.”
“Or JD’s,” Jase offered.
“Fine, your initial can go first. The Pit is now JD’s. Happy?”
Jase nodded. “I think we need to christen it with a party.”
“This is our place of business,” I told him, thinking how many things could get broken if we had a party here.
“This is our place of business,” Jase mocked. “Dude, slip the granny panties off and see the possibilities: hot chicks, hot cars … the two go hand in hand. And, if we get some chicks here, you won’t be using your hand. We’re business owners now, responsible and shit. Girls eat that stuff up.”
I looked up at Jase, but my mind was on a certain girl, and how she hadn’t given a damn about me becoming a business owner. It wasn’t like the shop was going to make me a millionaire or class my ass up. I’d always be a grease monkey. In other words, not fucking good enough for Roseville’s princess. Fuck. Stop thinking about that stuck up snob. She’s probably dating some rich douche with a trust fund.
“You know what?” I said, smiling. “Let’s do it.” I was done thinking about Brooke—sick of it actually. I was going to have fun tonight, fuck some girl, and not give another minute of my time thinking about the one who’d walked away.
November 22nd
“I can’t come home, Daddy.” My eyes went skyward while I listened to my father ramble on in his lecture. Today was our last day before Thanksgiving break. Lily had already headed home to Roseville, but I couldn’t bring myself to go with her.
“Your mama would really like for you to be there.”
I didn’t miss the fact that he hadn’t included himself in that request. Did my mom really want me home, or was this a guilt tactic? The few times I’d talked to her, she had sounded almost depressed. Her depression wasn’t so much a shock, but rather the fact she hadn’t concealed it from her voice.
“I’m helping at the pantry,” I told him, silently reminding myself that I should call the facility and see if they had room for another volunteer. If I was going to lie, I might as well follow through and get some good karma points. Besides, being around the needy would be far more rewarding than driving the hour home.
“You’re always telling me I need more philanthropy hours,” I reminded him. “There’s always Christmas,” I finished, knowing full well I would find another excuse when that holiday rolled around. I wasn’t ready to go home yet. Was that because I was enjoying my freedom away from my parents? Partly. The other reason was Dylan. Roseville was now soaked in the memory of us. I’d gotten better over the passing months, but my mind always wandered back to Roseville. The simplest things could turn my mind home, to a boy with black hair and devilish eyes. Movin
g away hadn’t erased my addiction to Dylan Crawford. If anything, I wanted him more. Though I knew things would never work out between us, it gave me an unhealthy sense of smugness to know he had wanted it. He wanted an actual relationship with me, Brooke Kingsley. The effect of knowing that was heady. Every time I thought about him, I saw us sitting on his tailgate, breathless and bright-eyed from sex. He’d looked at me like a man appreciating a piece of art. And when he had confessed to wanting more, his face had held such hope that it broke my heart. He was just caught up in the moment, the blissfulness of a summer romance. I knew Dylan very well, had studied him all four years of high school, and knew he did not do relationships. It wasn’t real, not on his part. He’d soon realize the mistake he’d made and end up breaking up with me. I couldn’t risk that, couldn’t risk shattering what we had. Giving part of myself to him was my way of claiming a piece of him, knowing for as long as I lived, Dylan would live on in my memories. And that memory was perfect in its completeness.
“I’ll tell your mother you cannot make it,” my father said, bringing my attention back to the phone call. I’d forgotten he was on the line, having tuned him out once my mind wandered to Dylan. He wasn’t even here and that boy controlled my head. Shaking myself out of it, I once again listened to my father’s voice.
Turning Home (A Small Town Novel) Page 14