The XOXO New Adult Collection: 16 Full Length New Adult Stories

by Brina Courtney

  ****

  High School Years

  The most amazing night of my life came and went and left me feeling relieved and happy. I had been stressing about that moment for so long that now I felt like I could finally breathe. Dean was even more wonderful, and we rarely kept our hands off of each other. Unfortunately, things got complicated quickly. I had been avoiding Dean's calls for a few days. I wasn't sure how to deal with things, so I confided in Kylie instead.

  We sat in a corner of her back yard where there was a little sitting area. Her yard was perfectly manicured and looked like it was straight out of a home and garden magazine. Where we were situated there was a bench overlooking a beautiful and luscious koi pond. I sat next to her, hugging my knees to my chest. I wasn't sure where to start, so I stared at the fish nibbling at the top of the water. They almost looked like they were blowing bubbles.

  "So, what's going on, Lenny?"

  She sounded worried. She knew me too well. "I think I had a miscarriage," I said softly.

  "Wait, what? You were pregnant?" she asked shocked.

  "I don't know. I think so."

  "You're not making any sense. Either you were pregnant or you weren't."

  "Fuck, Ky, I don't know. I've never been pregnant before."

  "Okay, start from the beginning. What makes you think you had a miscarriage?"

  "How detailed do you want me to be?" I asked.

  "Good point. No TMI moments, okay?"

  "I just had a weird period. I was spotting and then had gushing and then it was done. All in one day. It was just really strange."

  "Were you late?"

  "I have no idea. I'm so irregular. More than anything I just feel like I was, you know?"

  "Okay, well, you dodged a bullet then, right?"

  I stayed silent. Not that I wanted to be a teen pregnancy statistic, but the whole experience made me realize that this wasn't a game. Dean and I were playing with fire. This was real life, and I was only sixteen.

  "Right, Lennox?" she interrupted my thoughts.

  "Right," I said to brush off the moment. For the first time I doubted my relationship with Dean. I was scared and a little panicked.

  "Are you okay?" She wrapped her arm around my shoulder.

  "Yeah, I'll be fine. It was just a reality check."

  "For sure. Maybe you should go on birth control."

  "Maybe."

  "Are you going to tell Dean?"

  Without hesitation, I replied, "No, what would be the point? There's nothing to worry about now. It's gone."

  "I guess you're right."

  ****

  Present

  That moment marked the first of many times that I doubted my love for Dean. I don't know why that made me question things, but it did. I spiraled into a weird depression. I didn't want to have a baby, but the thought of being pregnant and losing it was too much for a sixteen-year-old to grasp, especially a manic-depressive one. It brought me off of the high that love had me riding and slammed reality in my face.

  I felt bad for Dean because I could tell he knew things changed, but never understood why. I wish I had told him about the miscarriage. Not telling him started erecting the walls between us. Something I would have stopped had I noticed it in time, but by the time I realized things were different, it was too late. I couldn't come back to where we once were no matter how badly I wanted to.

  I checked my phone for the time. I noticed a missed call from Kylie. I scrolled through my messages to see if Dean had responded to my last text, but he hadn't. I called Kylie back.

  "Hi," she said cautiously.

  "Hi." I knew why she was calling. It was sweet, but I wasn't ready to talk about the weekend.

  "How are you?"

  "I'm okay." It was stupid lying to her because she could see right through me.

  "Ummm, yeah, okay, so how are you really?"

  I choked back the tears. "Not good."

  "How bad, Lenny?"

  The growing concern in her voice scared me. Did I sound that bad? Was she really that worried about me? How bad was this? Did she think I might not pull through?

  "Len, how bad?" she demanded.

  I tried to talk, but the lump in my throat released and a flood of tears overcame me. I cried loud and hard and just like a supportive friend, she waited until the moment passed.

  "Oh God, Len. I'm so sorry. I wish I lived closer."

  "Me too." We wallowed in the distance that now separated our friendship.

  "Are you ready to talk about what happened?"

  "I just need more time to process everything." I needed to talk to someone about it, but it was too soon. I wasn't even sure what happened and how I felt about it. Everything was just now starting to swirl around in me, driving me to the brink of insanity.

  "Well, when you're ready you know I'm here. Judgment-free, honey. I have been there since the beginning so I understand."

  "I know. Thanks, Kylie. I'll call you later."

  "I love you, Lennox."

  "I love you, too." I hung up quickly and checked my text messages again. Still no response from Dean. Not that my last text message of a heart warranted an immediate response, but he always responded to my messages. The station he was at was in the middle of a fairly poor area, so he was constantly running calls. I was surprised how well he actually functioned on practically no sleep.

  I was still wrapped in a towel, so I grabbed a pair of clean sweats and threw them on. I picked up a few things off the floor as I made my way back downstairs to the tornado awaiting me. I still had a little time before I had to pick up the kids, but my lack of drive to do anything productive pushed me to the couch to sit down. I crawled into the corner of the chaise sectional, threw a blanket over me, and curled into a ball. I was so emotionally drained that I just gazed out the window and watched as the breeze moved the tree branches outside.

  It was a mildly cool fall day, and the winds were starting to kick in for the season. These days reminded me of the passionate nights with Dean. There was something about the warm winds that brought out in me an inner desire to explode. I hadn't felt that for so many years that I had almost forgotten what it felt like, to feel the rush of tingles that spread across my skin with a simple graze of a finger down my arm. I had accepted the loss of those feelings and had moved on, until this weekend. I felt again. I remembered. And now I had to deal with the aftermath. Face the consequences of releasing something that I had willingly buried for the sake of my children. For me.

  ****

  High School Years

  The first manic-depressive episode Dean witnessed was rough on both of us. I still hadn't told him about the miscarriage several weeks later, but my distance had continued. I knew he was getting worried and so was Kylie, but I was never good at sharing my pain with others. My way was solitude until I eventually dug my way out of it. It could last a few days or a few weeks, but I didn't see an end in sight this time. It had already been a few weeks, and I was barely getting out of bed aside from school. When I was awake, I would just listen to music and stare out the window, but mostly I slept. I ignored phone calls and only ate when my body absolutely required it. I had been losing a lot of weight because of it. I didn't want to feel like this, but I didn't know how to turn it around.

  It was hard to describe depression. Everything felt hopeless and dark. You just felt hollow and lost. No desire, no drive, no energy. And the worst part about it was no one could help pull you out of it. It was there until your brain detoxed. At times, I wanted to die. To be free of the pain. To just give up. I felt that now. I felt alone and trapped in my insane little mind, only I wasn't alone. I had Dean and Kylie, but I didn't know how to reach out to them for help.

  I had taken a walk to a little grassy area in my neighborhood and found a flat rock to sit on. I needed to get out of my room. It was Sunday, and I had spent the entire day before in bed. I thought the fresh air would help. It was a beautiful evening. Where I sat I had a perfect view of the sunset.
Its beauty sucked me in.

  "Hi," Dean said guardedly. "Can I sit with you?"

  Without turning around, I responded, "Sure."

  "Haven't heard from you in a few days," he said as he sat down. "Are we okay?"

  "Yeah, sorry. I just have a lot on my mind right now."

  "Do you want to talk about it?"

  I was holding back a breakdown, so I remained silent. I had never cried in front of Dean before, and I knew if I let myself now, it would be bad. I just shook my head and rested my chin on my knees.

  "Did I do something wrong, Lennox?"

  The hurt in his voice was too much. I didn't want to bring him down with me, but I had no control over my emotions. I buried my head in my knees and started crying uncontrollably.

  "Lenny, what's going on?" he asked, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me in tight against his body.

  I couldn't talk. All I could do was cry. My heart ached. I wanted to tell him about the miscarriage, but the walls were already too thick, so I just let him hold me as I crumbled. He held me until he could sweep up the pieces left behind. He tried to put me back together like a temporarily broken puzzle, but too many pieces were missing.

  Dean walked me back home not letting go of his grip on me, probably afraid I would fall. I felt awful not telling him what was going on, but I just didn't have the strength. I just wanted to get past this moment and go back to how things were before. Who knew that a moment that was so beautiful could turn out to be so ugly!

  He walked me to the front door, but still hesitated about letting me go. "I'm okay, Dean. Thanks for being here." He hugged me tighter.

  "I wish you would tell me what caused this, but I understand. I'm here no matter what," he said as he forced me to look at him. "I love you, Lennox. I don't know how I survived before I met you, and I don't know what I would do if I ever lost you."

  He kissed my lips gently as if I would shatter with too much pressure, physical and emotional. He reluctantly let me go.

  "I'm sorry you had to see me like that," I whispered shamefully.

  "Don't ever be sorry. I want to be here for you. Always. Good and bad."

  "Doesn't it seem odd to feel this way when we have only been together for a few months?"

  "Odd? I don't know, but I know how I feel about you and what you do to me when we are together. That's all that matters to me."

  His honesty was refreshing. I would never have imagined a seventeen-year-old boy would be so mature. He had such an old soul.

  "Me too," I said, but I wasn't as sure as I used to be.

  I got better after my meltdown with Dean. Although I didn't tell him what caused my episode, I think being able to let him be there for me was enough for me to snap out of it. I was grateful and feeling positive about the direction our relationship was taking. I would never feel like I did before the miscarriage, but I would try to get as close to it as possible again. I loved Dean, and I felt safe with him. He had become my rock. I needed him, and I would make myself want him. Forever.

  ****

  Present

  I caught a tear as it ran down my cheek seeking refuge at my lips. The salty taste was strangely comforting after so many years of not feeling and just getting by. I remembered that day like it was yesterday. How could I forget the day the downward spiral in our relationship and my life slowly started spinning? Maybe if I had confided in him things would be different. Our bond might have become stronger rather than strained. That was the day I truly understood what living with regret meant. It meant hiding who I was. It made for a lifetime of indecisiveness and insecurities. It meant losing pieces of me along the way. It led to a moment that forced me to make a choice that would change the course of my life, forever. One that could lead to irreparable regret or to my salvation. One choice full of selfish indignation and the other to a new beginning.

  I wiped away the tear harshly because the choice had been made and now I needed to learn how to accept it and move on. The breeze outside was beginning to pick up and sway to the beat of my heart, fast and irregularly. Time was passing slowly, and the idea of having my kids while I was going through this was nauseating. Most days I could fake it pretty well, but this low was on a whole different level. I was having a hard time focusing on anything except the memories that kept flashing through my head. They say that right before you die significant moments in your life flash before your eyes like a perfectly placed movie montage, only I wasn't dying physically, but figuratively I guess I was. Was this a normal cleansing process for the brain? Detox the past to make room for the future?

  The thought of losing the past was sad, but gave me hope that I might be able to survive the choice that I had made. That I could start over and finally break free of the ties that bound me to my pain and regret. Hope flickered in my heart for a second, but faded just as quickly. My heart wasn't ready to accept my new fate. Neither was I. We both needed more time.

  Chapter Five

  I peeled myself off of the couch and retrieved my phone from upstairs. Dean still had not read my last text message according to the delivered time stamp that hadn't changed to Read. Today must be a really busy day at the station. I was contemplating having him come home, but then I would need to tell him I was having an episode. I hated to do that to him. It had been a really long time since my last episode. The last episode was so bad that I finally succumbed to my doctor's advice to increase my medication doses. Everyone thought that would keep the episodes at bay. I didn't have it in me to tell them it wasn't the electrical impulses in my brain that needed medication. It was the ones in my heart. I texted Dean again.

  Me: I hate to do this, but I think I need you to come home. I'm having a pretty bad episode.

  I stared at the phone for a moment and waited for the delivered time stamp to switch to read, but it didn't. Crap! I could always ask my parents to take the kids for the night, but then I would have to tell them why and that always led to a million questions I didn't want to answer. After the kids were born, we managed a better relationship, but it was scarred and fractured. I wanted my kids to know their grandparents, though, so I made an effort and I held my tongue. But to tell them I was having an episode was a whole different story. I felt judged and vulnerable.

  I was starting to think Dean was still mad at me for going away this weekend. He was never that fond of Kylie because of her free spirit, well, and other reasons. Or it was just my guilt making me think that.

  ****

  High School Years

  Kylie and I had grown apart over the first year of mine and Dean's relationship. We tried to keep in touch, but it was tough. We were both busy and were in completely different classes in our senior year. Kylie was on the dance team, and they seemed to have practice every lunch and after school. They had become one of best teams in the country. She became obsessed with it.

  And then there was my obsession with Dean. We spent every waking moment together on the weekends. We would fill the days by going to the beach or Venice. We spent a lot of time on 3rd Street. Sometimes we went alone, and sometimes we went with a group of friends. Either way it was always fun. We also spent a lot of time anywhere he could skateboard. Watching him skate was always such a turn on. It was fascinating, the things he could do on a board. We practically lived at shows. Music was his life, so he supported the underground punk scenes.

  I had been worried about Kylie, though. I ran into her at a few parties, and she had been pretty wasted, which was never like her. Don't get me wrong; she always loved to party, but this just seemed to be on a different level. We were nearing the end of our last year together in high school, and I wanted to spend some time with her before we completely lost each other.

  I wasn't the biggest fan of driving, so Kylie was picking me up from the mall. I hit a cat running across the freeway ramp, and it traumatized the hell out of me. It just jetted right out in front of me. I didn't have any chance of missing it, so I tried not to drive whenever possible. Dean had dropped me off a
fter lunch, so I could spend the night with her. He sat outside on the planter wall with me until she got there. He was holding my hand tightly, caressing my hand with his thumb.

  "Do you want me to pick you up somewhere later?" he asked hopefully.

  "The plan is still for me to crash at Kylie's."

  "Okay. I can pick you up tomorrow." He sounded disappointed.

  "I'll call you when we figure out what we're doing tomorrow." Kylie pulled into the roundabout in front of us. She rolled down the window.

  "Hi, Dean. You ready to go, love?" she asked me.

  "Yeah." I turned to Dean and gave him a hug. He squeezed me tightly and kissed me softly on the lips.

  "I love you," he said.

  "I love you, too."

  He held my hand until our reach no longer permitted.

  I jumped into her car and waved to him as she drove off. "So, what do you want to do tonight?" I shouted over my favorite band, Fugazi. We both had the same taste in music and favored the underground punk bands over mainstream. "Waiting Room" was blaring through the speakers.

  "There's a party at this guy's house tonight. It's supposed to be huge. He lives in a mansion in the hills."

  Ugh! I was really looking forward to a quiet night of catching up. Now I had to compete for her attention with a bunch of people I hated sharing my days with at school, and on top of it, I would be stuck since she drove and it sounded like we were going into the middle of nowhere. This night was looking less fun by the second.

  "Should I take the silence as your disapproval?" she snapped.

  "No, it's fine. I told you to pick. I'm just glad we're hanging out." I was lying and she knew it, but she didn't offer an alternate plan, so I slouched back in the seat and accepted my night.

  "Awesome. It's going to be so much fun. I'm kind of diggin' on Luke."

  I jumped up in my seat. What the fuck was she thinking? "As in Luke, the rich kid who got busted for dealing?" Not only were we heading to a juvenile delinquent's house, but she liked him. Who was this? This was not my Kylie, the girl who made fun of people for smoking cigarettes. Something was going on.