Chapter 12 – Not Okay
Devin opened her eyes to find herself in her bed. Alone. Not surprising. Jake never stayed until she woke up. Her eyes travelled across her wall to the hole, the size of a fist. She felt numb, ill. Not used, but not loved. Detached.
Completely alone.
She looked over at her clock and saw there was about an hour and a half left before her shift at the Sundowner. Her hands lifted to rub her temples and her eyes, and she clumsily shuffled out of bed and into the bathroom. Her thick hair fell around her shoulders, still damp from her late-night shower. She brushed it harshly and pulled it back into a painfully tight ponytail. She applied her make-up, pinching her lids a bit with her eyelash curler. She looked closely in the mirror and plucked a few wayward bits from her brows. She brushed her teeth harshly and kept the Listerine in until it burned. Through all this, she felt nothing. Completely disconnected. A void where her soul once endured. She couldn’t seem to shake the dismal air. She couldn’t shake the gray cloud that enveloped her.
She pulled the sheets off the bed and threw them into the washing machine with extra bleach. She doused her eyes with Visine to reduce the bloodshot appearance resulting from the flood of tears the night before. She applied a heavy coat of eyeliner to mask the red, swollen rim of her eyes.
Still feeling outside of herself, she headed outside, started her dumpy little Jetta, and mechanically drove to work where she quietly stood in the wait station, rolling silverware and napkins into little bundles. The lunch rush began, and she dutifully rotated onto the floor, taking tables as they arrived, smiling when expected, but without it ever reaching her eyes. As she stood in front of the till ringing in a guest’s ticket, the bell at the front door rang, and she turned to seat the new customer. It was Ronin.
She froze.
He looked at her standing there staring at him. His eyes travelled over her, focusing on the hollow, empty look in her eyes.
Slowly, she came to and walked over to him.
“Did you want a table?” she asked tremulously in a barely audible voice.
Ronin nodded, so she turned and grabbed a menu. He followed her to a small booth in the corner. As she set the menu on the table, Ronin’s hand reached out to softly grasp her arm.
“Everything okay with Jake?” Ronin asked, standing closely behind her.
“No,” Devin murmured without looking at him. “No, it’s not.” Her voice hitched a little, and she took a deep, steadying breath. “But, I’ve gotta work right now.”
“You get off at four o’clock?”
Devin nodded.
“Stop by my place?”
She paused, then nodded again.
He gave her arm a light, reassuring squeeze. “It’ll be okay, honey.”
“Will it?” Devin asked, clearly disbelieving him. She looked up at him and took a shuttered breath, wanting to change the subject. “Want some coffee?” she asked.
Ronin looked at her for a long moment, picking up on her reluctance to discuss last night. “Please. And steak and eggs… hash browns.”
Devin nodded again, and stepped away from his table towards the kitchen.
The day passed neither slowly, nor quickly. It was all pretty much a blur, and then it was just done. Ronin sat in his booth in the corner for close to two hours before he headed home to wait for her. His quiet presence seemed to give her the strength to get through her shift.
Devin headed to his house after work to find him sitting on his steps waiting for her. He rose to his feet and walked towards her car as she pulled to a stop. Woodenly, she climbed out of the driver’s seat, and walked straight into his arms where she finally surrendered to her wretched grief. Her eyes flooded with tears and he held her, gently rubbing her back as she sobbed.
They stood like that, not speaking until her crying began to still. He pulled back and looked down at her, and her eyes focused on the blotches of mascara and eyeliner that had bled into his faded light blue chamois shirt.
Her fingers brushed across the splotch of black. “Oh jeez, I made a mess on your shirt,” she mumbled dismally.
“It’s okay, honey,” he reassured her as he used his thumbs to wipe the smudges from under her eyes. “You want to come inside?”
She nodded and Ronin took her hand to lead her inside. He motioned for her to sit on the couch, then walked down the hallway to the bathroom and came back with a cool, wet washcloth which he handed to her. She blotted at her eyes, grimacing at the amount of eye makeup that came away on the cloth. He sat close on the couch, half-facing her. She wasn’t sure what to say, didn’t know what she was feeling. Shame mixed with loneliness. Feelings of foreboding of all things Jake.
Turmoil about how much she was growing to depend on Ronin.
All she knew was that she felt safer next to him. Safer when he slipped his arm around her and pulled her to lean back with him on the couch. Safer when she laid her head against his shoulder.
“Want to talk about it?” he asked gently.
“It’s just the same shit that keeps happening,” Devin answered flatly. “Melanie leaves. He pays a visit.” The shame crept into Devin’s voice. “And I always… always…” Her throat closed, unable to finish and admit her powerlessness.
Ronin didn’t say a word. Instead, his fingers began to smooth over the ends of the hair that had come loose from her ponytail to fall streaming down her back.
“I’m so pissed that I can’t fix this. I think I hate him as much as I love him,” Devin whispered. She looked up at Ronin’s introspective expression and then snuggled back into him, breathing him in. “I don’t even know how to explain last night.”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” Ronin said. “I didn’t ask you here so I could judge you. I asked you here so I could comfort you.”
There was something about Ronin, being so close with her face pressed against the soft flannel covering his chest. There was something about the way his heartbeat and his breathing echoed through his body, the slight movement of him slowly chewing his gum. Her senses began to relax, and her feelings shifted from the humiliation of her abasement. The warmth of Ronin’s body began to soothe her misery. For a little while, she began to feel… safe.
Ronin studied Devin closely as her eyes began to droop. Her breathing softened and her body relaxed against his. He knew he should shift her around a little, move her slightly so he could lay more comfortably on the couch. But the knowledge that she was escaping this torment for now kept him in place.
Her expression when he first saw her today was frighteningly somber. Likely matching his at the sight of Jake’s pickup in her driveway. He wasn’t sure what to expect when he went to see her. In the past, when Jake had looked her up, her mood was a bit erratic—sometimes excited by Jake’s renewed interest and sometimes wistful with the knowledge that it wouldn’t last. But this, he’d never seen her like this. She looked as though she was completely wrecked inside.
What had happened last night? He grimaced, knowing some of what had happened. She hadn’t actually spelled it out, hadn’t finished the sentence, but she’d told him all the same. The thought of Jake’s hands on her made him ill, tense. The thought of Jake fucking her made him want to throw up.
But something else had happened. There was a telltale sign in the small catch in her voice. Something had really gotten to her. Something had hurt her deeply. Something she wasn’t telling him.
Ronin’s unease burgeoned as he held her. His mind flipped through her words outside the bar as they reverberated through his brain.
It doesn’t mean anything…
We’re friends…
We’re just friends, Jake…
It’s not what you think!
You know I love you!
And then she had looked at him.
I’m sorry…
This was getting way too difficult.
Over the next couple days, Devin seemed, outwardly and from a distance, to come out of her desolate cloud.
Where she had been withdrawn, she began to smile, then to laugh. She began to joke around and tease. But Ronin, Joanie, Amy, those closest to her, saw something had changed. She had a hardness about her, a fierce and wary aura that kept her on edge, a caustic lilt to her voice, a brusque undertone to her mood. Her smile was brittle. Her laugh was cold. Her jokes were sharp. Her teasing was callous.
Devin was most definitely not okay.
Chapter 13 – What the fuck!?
Devin sat outside the liquor store in Ronin’s truck. A chirp from her iPhone indicated a text. Digging it out of her purse, she saw it was from Sorcha in Del Mar.
Ur mom told my mom who told me u and BF broke up. U ok?
Sorta. Sometimes yeah. Sometimes no.
Sorta broken up or sorta okay?
Both.
How can u b sorta broken up?
He’s gonna live with other GF at college, but still fuckin me.
Fuck. Son of a bitch. Ass.
Yup. All the above.
U need a vacay, I’ve got a job in a couple weeks. Will be gone 3 weeks. Would love u to housesit. I’ll buy ur ticket to Cali.
Devin watched Ronin come out of the store, bag in hand, looking a bit flushed. She wasn’t going to school. She had pulled her paperwork from college, paid another month’s rent, and stuck the money she’d been saving for tuition into a savings account. She could afford to take some time off work to go to Del Mar.
Considering her cousin’s offer, though, she felt a slight twist in her gut. She’d miss Ronin. But to be completely honest with herself, she missed Ronin now. She missed the easy light, flirty friendship they had built. Things still hadn’t completely returned back to normal since that last night with Jake. She had a harsh streak of fear, she fought the temptation to protect herself by pushing him away.
And Jake? She had no idea what to think of Jake. She was an intricate Celtic knot of twisted fears and emotions.
I’ll think about it, k cuz? How soon do u need to know?
Couple days b4 I leave on the 10th. I’ve got backup if u decide u can’t, but will need to get ur ticket if u can.
OK, I’ll let ya know.
“So, what the hell are you concocting with this?” Ronin quietly laughed as he got in the truck. “I could barely pronounce it, and then she brings it to me and, by God, this shit is pink! Do you have any idea how emasculating it is to buy pink booze?” Ronin did his best to look completely offended.
Devin smiled at the exaggerated horror in his expression. “It’s called a ‘Snowball,’ she responded. “I saw the recipe in Cosmo. It looks really pretty.”
“Pretty, huh? That’s what I want in a drink. Something pretty.” Ronin looked over at her and winked. “Just warn me next time you want me to get something like that again. That’s about as bad as buying tampons!”
Devin chuckled softly as he pulled out of the parking lot.
Fuck the snowballs. They were good, but entirely too sweet. Devin wasn’t in the mood for sweet.
The other night with Jake had left her in a full-on funk. She felt weird, vapid, guilty, dirty. But mostly, she felt mad at the world. Devin was in the mood for something harsh and burning, something to torment her body enough to clear the turmoil in her mind.
She was in a Wild Turkey kind of mood.
Her disposition became more caustic as the night wore on. The more the brutally sharp self-loathing built inside her, the more spiteful and malevolent she became. She could see the needles of provocation start to prick at Ronin. She could see the confusion being tossed around by the storm brewing in his eyes. He tried to cajole her, to hold her, to soothe the harshness away, despite his obvious frustration with her inciting mindset. But Devin only brushed him off with a cold, brittle smile, doing everything she could to push him away. She was helpless to stop the dark, unrelenting bitterness building up the walls to keep him out.
Music poured throughout the house as Joe played DJ. His usual eighties and nineties tunes were focusing on Van Halen tonight, and Sammie Hagar was grunting and moaning the words to Finish What Ya Started. Begging. Pleading. Devin sat on the couch beside Ronin, bourbon bottle in hand, and gave a harsh laugh as she nudged him with her elbow. “This could be our song. You begging, me getting you all hot and bothered and then shutting you down.” She took another long drink straight out of the bottle, then grimaced as she sat back, eyeing him with a fierce, antagonizing expression.
“Devin, don’t,” Ronin stated with a forced calm belied by his exasperated frown.
“Don’t what, Ronin?” she coldly asked. “Tell the truth?”
“Baby, I know what you’re doing.”
“You do, do you?” she asked acerbically. “You think you know me pretty well, huh? Because I’ve poured out my heart to you? Moaning and crying about Jake?”
Joanie tried to cut in. “Devin—”
But Devin ignored her and leaned forward towards Ronin. “You might be surprised by the things I don’t tell you, Ronin. Things about Jake and me. Things about… you.”
Ronin’s temper had finally just about reached its boiling point. He was flushed and livid. “Dev,” he ground out, “I don’t wanna fight with you.”
“Seriously,” she laughed, struggling to repel him further. “This song… Don’t you think so, Amy? Joanie? Ronin couldn’t care less if I was fuckin’ half the town. He just wishes I was fuckin’ him.” Both girls stared at her, bewildered by the venom in her voice.
So she looked to the guys. What better way to commit social suicide than to ridicule a guy to his friends? “Joe, you’ve gotta know what I’m talking about. Has Ronin ever told you what a lush I am? How I sleep in his bed. Kiss him. Touch him.” She looked back at Ronin, catching the growing spark of anger. She fed on it. “But it’s never quite enough. It’s like these words are coming right out of your mouth. Tell me, Ronin, do you ever get tired of wanting me and never getting to fuck me?”
Ronin pulled back a bit, clenching his jaw, his hand gripping the beer can he held until the aluminum crinkled. For a split second, Devin saw the fury blaze in his eyes. She’d finally done it. Ronin was good and pissed. He was finally as mad at her as she was at herself.
He pulled his arm back and splashed the beer in her face as he stood, pitching the can across the room.
“Fuck, Devin,” he muttered as he stormed into the kitchen, “I give up. You fuckin’ win.”
Joe jumped up. “Ronin!? What the fuck!?”
Shane ran after Ronin, following him down the hall in an effort to keep the two separate, to prevent any escalation of what was unfolding.
“What the hell was that all about!?” Joe yelled as he followed them out of the room.
Devin’s eyes burned as the beer seeped inside, blinding her for a moment and causing a searing pain.
“I can’t see,” Devin creaked. Through the blur of pain, she felt a cool, wet cloth cover her eyes and heard Joanie’s voice, softly telling her it would be okay.
“Joanie, I can’t see.” Panicked shock made Devin’s voice hoarse.
“Shhhh,” Amy whispered as she sat on the couch. “Open your eyes a little and let Joanie drip some of the water in there to clean out the alcohol.”
Devin’s vision began to clear somewhat, and the realization of what happened slammed into her chest, building and unfurling to an earthshattering anger. Devin literally saw red. She felt hot. She was furious!
“That fucking son-of-a-bitch,” she shrieked as she jumped up, pushing Joanie aside in her outrage.
Devin rushed into the kitchen, looking for Ronin. Seeing him down the hall, she grabbed an unopened can of beer from the counter in the kitchen and began vigorously shaking it. Before anyone could restrain her, she tore down the hallway towards the bathroom where Ronin stood hunched in frustration, Joe and Shane barricading him in with their backs to the doorway. She pushed through them, and they stared at her dumfoundedly.
Ronin straightened up when he saw her coming, arms rushing forward to halt her before sh
e completely lost it. She cracked the top of the can open, and the beer began to spew out from the pressure, her hand waving it around the room and dousing everyone and everything. Ronin pushed her up against the wall, hitting the hand holding the can on the counter to dislodge it.
“I fucking hate you! YOU FUCKING SON-OF-A-BITCH!” Devin screamed at him, breaking one arm free and pummeling his shoulder and arm with her small fist.
In a smooth motion, Ronin clamped his hands around her wrists, pulling her into the bathtub. He confined her around the waist with one arm as he reached for the cold water and flipped the shower on, dousing them both in an icy stream. They struggled for a moment, and then another as the others in the room could only stare with horrified awe. The water poured on her head, drenching her hair and chilling her fury. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe as the spray hit her right in the face. Her hands clenched, her struggles ceased, and she collapsed against him in tears. Ronin’s hands morphed from a hard, controlling hold to a gentle, comforting one in a matter of a second, pulling her closer to him as she cried.
“Oh God, Ronin. I’m so sorry,” Devin sobbed. Her voice faded to barely a whisper as her body was wracked with deep, wrenching sobs, tearing out her soul and baring it to reveal the raw misery that consumed her. “Everything hurts. I just don’t want to hurt anymore. I’m so sorry…” She clutched at his shoulders, no fight left in her, only seeking a release from her agony. Her breathing was choppy, gulping in air as she cried, but she couldn’t pull her face away from his neck. A torrent of warm, salty tears seeped into the chill of Ronin’s wet shirt.
The water continued to rain down from the showerhead, over the two of them as they slid down the wall of the tub surround. Devin continued to cry, shivering from the cold and pain. Ronin stroked her back, her shoulders, her cheek, holding her tightly. Joe reached in the shower to turn off the water, and then turned to usher the others from the room.
“Let’s give them a few minutes, guys,” he said quietly.
Little Conversations Page 11