Beauty and the Book Boyfriend

by K. M. Galvin

  I snort. My dad, ever the practical man never one to wallow.

  “Well, I’m sorry,” I apologize and hug the shit out of both of them.

  “We’re sorry we made you feel like you couldn’t go home or that you were less,” my dad counters.

  I swipe my tears from under my eyes and step back, “Ok, enough emotion. We are not this family. I’m going to change and then how about we get some food?”

  “Want me to make your favorite?” Mom asks.

  “I was thinking maybe we could go to Fred’s?” I suggest instead, naming the one and only restaurant in town. It’s a diner, Italian restaurant and deli all in one. I’m craving pancakes and some garlic bread. You try to beat this menu.

  “You ready to announce you’re back,” Dad’s says, surprised.

  “I’m ready to announce I’m in town for the weekend…” I correct. Back makes it sound like I’m moving back to this postage stamp. I shiver, no way. I’m already missing Atlanta.

  “If you’re sure,” he drawls, leading the way downstairs, not sound sure about this idea at all. My mom follows giving me a backwards glance and a shrug. How crazy could it get?

  FAMOUS LAST WORDS. AS A writer I should have known what kind of events I would be foreshadowing with a thought like that.

  What’s the worst that could happen?

  There’s another one.

  When I made the suggestion to go to Fred’s, I guess I forgot what happens there’s one restaurant in a town.

  On a Friday.

  After six o’clock at night.

  It was packed with nearly everyone. Add in who my parents are, I believe it took nearly a half an hour to get to the hostess station just to put our name in which was immediately waved off. My parents have their own booth because of course they do.

  More waving, shrugging off explanations to the where have I been questions, and blushing furiously at a table of older women telling me they love the sex in my stories we finally sat, ordered and ate.

  The whole order took nearly three hours, I sat across from my dad so I had to stare at his smug “I told you so” face the entire time and now I understand Natalie’s frustration with me. I see where I get it from.

  Dad’s paying for the bill after snorting so hard his nose nearly disappeared when I reached for my wallet when the bill came, while my mom and I repeated the same red carpet walk to the door.

  We finally get out the door, which I shove open and yell into the fresh air. “Jesus Christ!”

  “Bellamy Granger,” my mom says disapprovingly, wrapping her sweater around her tighter. It’s chilly now the sun has set.

  “Sorry.” I grin, nostalgic for when she used to break out the middle name when I was younger.

  “Tell me about this young man of yours.” She loops her arm through mine as we begin our walk back to the house. It’s only about a couple blocks off the main drag of town, which is great since I ate my weight in carbs.

  I drop my head back, groaning at the sky. “Do I have to?”

  “You video chatted me to help you pick out an outfit, Belly. He must be important enough to make you break your silence.”

  I shoot her a glance opening my mouth but slamming it shut when my dad comes up beside me, throwing an arm around my shoulders.

  “Oh no, please continue. Don’t clam up on my behalf. Your mama told me all about his boy. Some model?” my dad scoffs.

  “He actually quit. He’s trying to go to school to become a Veterinarian.” I say archly, stifling the argument I want to make about there being nothing wrong with modeling.

  “That’s commendable.” Mom nods.

  “He’s so—“ I pause, searching for the right words, “—supportive. He’d bend over backwards for someone he cares about and would never mention it or ask for anything in return. He’s overcome so much, but thinks so little of himself. I hate that he doesn’t see himself clearly. If he did, he wouldn’t question why I love him.” I bite my lip, self-conscious by my little speech.

  My dad smiles over at my mom before dropping a kiss on the top of my head. “I’m glad he has such a defender. He clearly makes you happy.”

  I roll my eyes. ”He does. He drives me crazy more. He broke up with me while I went to Europe so he can focus on becoming a better person so he says.”

  “Did he actually break up with you?” My mom raises an eyebrow, more than a little shocked. “I don’t understand you kids these days.”

  “He said ‘take a break,’” I correct.

  “Have you spoken at all?” my dad asks, and I’m momentarily taken aback by how surreal this conversation is. How invested they are in my life, my relationship.

  “He’s tried getting in touch, but—“ Once.

  “But you refused to talk to him,” Dad finishes knowingly.

  “Maybe,” I drawl.

  We turn into our drive, the cicadas louder as we near the large trees lining our land. “Baby girl, you gotta start meeting people halfway. If he asked for a break, it sounds like it had nothing to do with you. Maybe it’s what he needed to get through this experience. And maybe the break isn’t what you define it as. I’m guessing you didn’t handle it very well to really go over what it means to the both of you.”

  Suddenly ill, I admit. “No.”

  “Not everyone is out to hurt you. You don’t have to strike first,” Mom says simply before giving me quick kiss on the cheek and leaving me on the porch.

  I sit on the porch step and turn towards my dad as he sits in one of the rocking chairs behind me. My mom comes back out with three beers and passes one to each of us before joining my dad in the rocker beside him.

  “Keep talking, Bellamy. We’ve missed hearing your voice,” my dad says softly, kicking off to start rocking back and forth.

  I lean against the porch and close my eyes against the sudden stinging. “Did I tell y’all how I met Caleb?”

  My intended weekend turns into two weeks with my parents. I fill them in on my life, something I shouldn’t have to do. I spend my days with my mom, shadowing her at work, seeing what she does and how she influences the people around her. I go on a ride-along with my dad. He still looks as handsome as I remember in his uniform. We tour the town and he fills me in on all the gossip.

  We never talk about what I did after that first night, though I’m still ashamed. But they love me and let me do what I needed to do even though it hurt them to let me go. They gave me the space I needed to become someone I never knew I intended to be, always trusting that I would find my way back.

  It’s their forgiveness and understanding that has me speeding back to Atlanta. Wherever Caleb is, I want him to know I still love him.

  I park in our garage and leave all my stuff in the car, deciding to bribe Natalie with the promise of Thai curry for dinner if she helps me unload later. Now that I’m home, the urgency to contact Caleb begins to rescind. I can video call him without my parents hovering, in the privacy of my room. See his face. Hear his voice. I’m dying to know if he passed his test.

  God, why did I have to put such a moratorium on all things Caleb?

  No. No ma’am. Everything you did led to this point, no regrets.

  I unlock the front door, swinging it wide, and throw my hands up in the air. “Honey! I’m home.”

  “Babe, your extra loud roommate is home,” Logan says, fingers moving rapidly over the keyboard of his laptop.

  I yelp in surprise before squealing and launching myself at him. “Logan!”

  He laughs and sets his computer aside in order to catch me as I come flying at him. “I missed you!”

  I hug him and pinch his stupidly handsome cheeks. “I missed you too!”

  “You look really good, Bellamy,” he tells me when I finally loosen my grip.

  “Thank you! How is everything?” I drawl out the last word and tilt my head so he knows what I’m saying without saying it.

  “Are you talking about Caleb?” he says loudly, and I smack his arm.

  “W
ell, it was nice while it lasted,” I chuckle and get off the couch. “Where is my roommate?”

  “In the kitchen!” she calls out.

  “Can I beg you to help me unload the car? I’ll buy dinner.” I wiggle my eyebrows at Logan who groans as he gets up off the couch.

  “Fine, but I’m picking.” He points a finger at me before taking the keys out of my hand. “Come on, babe.”

  Natalie darts out the apartment before I can say anything and I’m left slightly flabbergasted in the middle of the room. I said help me, but if they want to do it for me I wouldn’t argue.

  “They probably did that to give us a moment,” Caleb says behind me, and it’s sad to admit, but I gasp comically and spin towards my bedroom.

  Caleb stands there, clearly unsure of himself as I continue to gape.

  I run a shaky hand through my hair and curse myself. I’m in one of my dad’s workout shirts, yoga pants with not an ounce of make up on. Not the reunion I was hoping for.

  “What are you doing here?” I finally manage.

  Caleb crosses the room and now that the shock is over I take him in. His hair is buzzed and for a second I mourn the loss of that gorgeous head of hair, but holy shit he looks good. Dressed in simply jeans and a t-shirt, he walks towards me like he’s on the runway. Filled with purpose and intensity.

  I back up a step, slightly nervous. I had every intension of calling him, but now that he’s in front of me I have no idea what to say.

  “Blue Bell.” His voice breaks over my name, and I weaken like the complete softy I apparently am and close the distance between us. I wrap my arms around him, and for the first time since Natalie and I landed back in the State, I truly feel at home. At peace.

  The tension drains out of me completely, and I find the courage to ask, “I hope this means you’ve found yourself and are coming back to me for good.”

  “It does. Do you still want me?” he asks quietly.

  I bite his shoulder playfully. “Duh.”

  “I passed my test and looked at a couple schools here. I was thinking, if you agreed, I could move—“

  “Yes!” I squeal and jump into his arms.

  “No need for me to make a big speech?” he teases, holding me tighter.

  “Nah, you came to your senses. How about three words instead?”

  “I love you.” He nuzzles my neck and I can feel his smile against my skin.

  “The end,” I giggle.

  Natalie and Logan burst through the door.

  “Aw!” Natalie cries, running to grab us both in a hug. “Thank God! I thought you were going to make him grovel.”

  “I’m getting what I want, why would I make him grovel? His guilty ass can make it up other ways.” I wiggle my eyebrows suggestively.

  “What a couple of nerds,” Logan taunts but joins our group hug. “Our confession of love was better.”

  “Confession of love,” Natalie snorts before wheeling my suitcase into my room.

  I plant my hands on my hips, watching our two best friends move about my apartment, and turn back to a grinning Caleb. “That didn’t go as I imagined it.”

  He kisses me quickly. “It’s better, right?”

  I frame his face. “Reality is always better.”

  The End.

  Catch – Allie X

  Dear No One – Tori Kelly

  Lovesick (feat. Felix Snow) – Caroline Pennell

  Party Monster – the Weeknd

  Blue Jeans – Lana del Rey

  Pacify Her – Melanie Martinez

  Ain’t My Fault – Zara Larsson

  Perfect Illusion – Lady Gaga

  Bad Religion – Frank Ocean

  Pink Matter – Frank Ocean

  Love On The Brain – Rihanna

  Needed Me – Rihanna

  Never Be Like You (feat. Kai) – Flume

  Brave For You – The XX

  Human – Sevdaliza

  This Is The Last Time – The National

  Some of you may know that this is the first book I’ve written that doesn’t have anything to do with the Twenty-Something series, which is terrifying. I was terrified every time I sat down to write. I avoided it like the plague. Doubts filled my head. Insecurities plagued every word I wrote. But I kept coming back. I needed to prove to myself I could do it.

  I’m sure there are different morals people can pull from this story, everyone reads books differently, but what I find to be the moral of the story is to do what you want because you fear. Let it be the vehicle that moves you forward as long as you’re in the drivers seat.

  With that being said…

  Thank you to everyone who had a hand in this book. Editing, formatting, creating the cover, formatting, beta-reading, promotion and every single like, share and encouraging word online. Writing might be a solitary profession, but publishing takes a tribe.

  Finally, if you’re reading this and suffer from anxiety of any kind, I understand. I get it. It’s easier to keep your eyes lowered to the pages of a book rather than seeing the world around you. Peek up, just this once. I’m holding your hand. Look for the safety pins.

  Turn the page for an excerpt of Going Forward: A Prologue…

  TWO PINK LINES.

  I stare, trying to comprehend how such an innocent color could mean so much ruin. Spots invade my vision and my head begins to swim. My hand gropes for something to hold onto. I don’t know if I am dizzy from what I am seeing or from the line I shot up my nose half an hour ago. Gripping the edge of the sink, I lower myself to the toilet seat.

  Should I be crying?

  And maybe that is the problem. Nothing really fazes me anymore. I am numb all over. Or I was until those two fucking lines appeared. Bile rises up in my throat and I drop my head between my knees. I take a huge breath and try to breathe the vomit back down. I laugh, the sound startling me as it echoes off the shit colored tiles.

  Where the hell am I?

  Oh right. Jackson’s sister’s house.

  She was out of town and he thought it would be hilarious to break into her house, get high, and fuck in her bed. She was, apparently, an uptight bitch, and he hated her. We got as far as getting high, but the funny thing about men and drugs was that they turned into limp dick assholes when they got high. When he passed out ten minutes after his hit, I found myself wandering around the house. Or home I guess. It certainly felt like a home. I’d almost forgotten what a home felt like. I was snooping through the bathroom when I found the pregnancy test. I thought, why not? I thought, just for fun, let’s pee on a stick!

  I’m an idiot.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket, startling me out of my thoughts. I dig it out and stare at the screen. Declan was calling. My thumb hovered, wanting to answer so badly, needing someone so badly, but it went silent before I could gather the courage. After they left me, he was the only one who called. Jason dipped out, choosing sluts and liquor, and I couldn’t really blame him since I chose dicks and hits. But Declan called sometimes. And I fucking hated it. It reminded me of all the things I was supposed to be doing… all the things I promised.

  Fuck it.

  I drag myself off the toilet and put that stupid stick in my back pocket. Walking out of the master bath, I pause when I see Jackson passed out on the bed, his pants halfway down his ass. He is most likely the father. I’d been fucking him consistently for the last couple months, and sometimes I was too messed up to make sure we were using protection.

  Hence this conversation.

  I make my way over to him and grab his foot, shaking it until he wakes up.

  “Jackson, wake the hell up.”

  “What the fuck?” he growls, rolling over and blinking up at me. Somehow I found him attractive. He wasn’t a total barker with his wheat blonde hair and broad shoulders, but I think it was his convenience and lack of questions that really sealed the deal.

  “I’m pregnant,” I tell him. What’s wrong with my voice? He blinks at me, not comprehending.

  “Huh?”r />
  “I’m pregnant,” I slowly repeat before grabbing the stick and tossing it at him, hitting him in the stomach. His eyes widen for a moment and then he begins laughing. He laughs and laughs and laughs, and I can do nothing but stand here. It’s like my feet are cemented to the faux hardwood floor. His laugh machine-guns me, hitting me over and over.

  So this is why I stay numb.

  “It’s not mine!” He laughs again, like it’s the most ridiculous thing in the world.

  I pause for a moment, studying him and waiting for him to change his mind, before nodding and leaving him in the room. His laugh follows me as I move through the house, towards the exit, until I make it outside and close the door quietly on him, his laughter, and that part of my life.

  I tug my cardigan tighter around me as the December chill teases me and begin walking home. My eyes are burning and I know I am crying. I feel a flutter in my belly and the tears come faster as my arms move to cross over it protectively. I apologize silently for all I put my little pink lines through for God knows how long and promise I will do better.

  I will do better. I will be stronger.

  My phone buzzes in my back pocket again and my brows furrow. It’s silent for months and then tonight of all nights I get two calls. I fish it out of my pocket, and this time I don’t hesitate when I see who’s calling.

  “Emily.” Declan’s deep voice whispers across the line and runs across my body. I stop walking and curse myself for still responding like this.

  “Declan,” I say, trying to sound calm, but the tears I had shed moments before betray me.

  “Are you ok?” he growls, sounding more alert and ready to kick some ass. I let out a small smile. Ever the “big brother.” Except he’s not my brother, only my brother’s best friend, and I fucking hate it. Mostly because I’ve been in love with him since I was six. Oh God, what is he going to think of me? What is Jason going to think of me? My breath hitches as the reality of my situation finally, finally hits. “Emmy, baby girl, talk to me.” Ha, what a word choice. Baby. Baby.