by Howe, Olivia
But there aren’t any. Not a single one.
I’m not searching for them—don’t get me wrong, but I’m realistic.
Although, maybe Felicity isn’t perfect…maybe she’s just perfect for me.
The music from the radio fills the car for the majority of the ride. It’s not uncomfortable to just be quiet with this girl. Her mere presence offers a comfort that’s new to me. As if her existence provides the means to fill that void in me that’s been there for far too long.
“Get out of here!” Felicity almost screams when the comic shop comes into view.
“Like it?” I ask her.
“I fucking love it! I flove it!”
I can’t help but grin at her enthusiasm.
This girl is sure doing something to me.
***
I drop Felicity off and my phone buzzes. It’s my cousin, Marcus. It looks like he’ll be in town later this week. I’m not overly thrilled about this so I don’t reply. I’ll do it later…maybe.
My cousin—all my cousins really—are usually up to no good. My mom insisted we move here when I was young so I didn’t go down the same path as so many of her family members do. It can be a lucrative path, but it’s a damn bloody one.
One thought causes me to chuckle.
Mom’s going to flip.
***
Felicity
I shoot up in bed—stupid fucking nightmare. Ever since that night it’s plagued me. The trauma stuck on repeat. The doctors say it should get better over time. How much time, they fail to speculate.
When you see your parents murdered during a home invasion, it sticks with you.
The nausea becomes unbearable and I sprint to the bathroom, making it just in time. Shit. I thought the worst of this was behind me. It’s been almost a year, after all…
Over the years gangs have slowly eaten away at the neighborhood around my one-time home. My parents couldn’t afford to move, and I think in reality my Dad didn’t want to. He was a proud man…downright stubborn at times. He didn’t want the gangs to win.
When it was over, I found out there was no personal vendetta against my family. It was a gang initiation, a house picked at random.
My life changed forever.
I shake the mental image and rinse with some mouthwash. All this holiday shit must be doing it.
That’s got to be it.
***
“You look like shit, Fliss.” Becca declares.
“Gee, thanks.” I reply wryly. “So nice of you to sugarcoat it for me.”
“Sorry,” Becca looks sheepish. “I’m just worried about you.”
“I know. I just had a shitty night’s sleep is all.” I try to brush it off.
“Another nightmare?”
“Yeah.” I should know better than to try and fool her. “I’ll be fine, though.”
“Did you bring your meds?” Becca asks quietly.
“Yes.” No. “But I won’t need them. I haven’t taken them in months.”
“Just promise me that you’ll take them if you need them.”
“I promise.” Not to.
Becca looks relieved. “Good. Now let’s get some coffee into you.”
The very word coffee leads my thoughts straight to Trent. I haven’t texted him yet today because I didn’t want to wake him up. Now that it’s a somewhat reasonable hour I shoot off a quick Good morning!
Becca gets one cup of coffee in me before my phone goes off.
Trent: Good morning! I’m at work until two. You busy later?
Me: Nope! Want me to meet you at the shop?
Trent: See you then :)
“I haven’t seen that goofy smile on your face since you were crushing on Chris Johnson in eighth grade.” Becca announces.
“Oh, shut up!” I say, but my laugh lessens the actual words.
“Just saying.” Becca says. “I’m not knocking it. It’s kind of nice, actually.”
I consider this. “It is kind of nice…” Even if it’s only for a limited-time.
Becca notes the slump in my shoulders. “What?” She asks.
“Nothing…just what happens after we leave?”
Becca gives me a small smile. “One week at a time, Fliss. If it’s meant to be, it will.”
“When did you get all smart on me?”
“Do you mean smarter than you?” Becca laughs. “You’re going to have to give me this one. You win like every other category—but boys? That’s my domain, bitch.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “That it is, Beck. That it is.”
***
I walk into the coffee shop to find that Trent already has a coffee waiting for me. It only takes one sip to discover he remembers my favorite kind. It’s such a trivial thing, so innate—but it hits deep in my chest.
He remembers something about me. Something stupid that doesn’t really warrant being remembered, save for those important to you…
Does that mean I’m important to Trent?
Or am I overthinking things like usual?
Probably the latter.
“Thank you,” I say with what I’m sure is that goofy smile Becca was referring to.
Trent smiles back at me. “You’re welcome.”
We decide to walk a local shopping plaza for a little while since the day is milder than it’s been since I got here. The sun bouncing off the snow makes everything seem brighter than usual…or maybe it’s just Trent who does that.
We pass a group of teens dressed like possible gang members. Just like every other time since what happened, my throat closes as my heart races. I can’t breathe and my pulse pounds in my ears. Soon white dots begin to cloud my vision. My knees tremble and I know what comes next.
Aw, shit.
Right before my legs give out completely I hear Trent call my name. I swear I feel his arms around me before the world fades out.
***
Paper crinkles under my head when I move it. That’s the first thing I notice. The second thing I notice is Trent—who stares at me in a mixture of concern and delight.
“Felicity! You’re up!” He gives my hand a squeeze and I notice he holds it.
“Hey,” I say in a voice that’s too raspy. My throat is dry so I try to clear it.
More alert, I look around and decide I’m not in a hospital. It looks more like a nurse’s office than anything.
“Mall Infirmary.” Trent answers, literally reading my mind.
“Ah, that’s good. Hospitals freak me out…” Although this place isn’t exactly my cup of tea, either.
“Let me get the nurse.” Trent gets up.
“Could you see if they have some water, please?”
“Of course.”
A few moments later Trent returns with a pretty older woman. She fusses over me for a few moments before she looks at me knowingly.
“You’ll have to give us a few minutes.” She tells Trent.
“Right. I’ll be back.” He tells me.
“My name’s Margaret Delaney. I’m the mall’s nurse practitioner.” She fastens a cuff on my arm before she continues. “Has this been happening a lot recently?”
“Um, no.” I answer with a half-truth. It really hasn’t been recently.
“Mmmm-hmm. How about your stomach? Have you been experiencing any nausea?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Any chance you may be pregnant?” She asks with a pointed glance towards the door Trent just exited.
“No, ma’am.” My voice is slightly colder this time around.
“Just checking.” She says with a smirk that says she doesn’t really believe me. “Maybe we should send you to Memorial Hospital to make sure you’re okay.”
I don’t feel these words are said maliciously, but the very idea sounds like a form of personal hell. I sit up quickly. “What I just experienced was PTSD and if you’d be so kind as to offer me a glass of water, I’ll be fine and on my way.�
��
“Oh.” She frowns. “I apologize. He was so concerned I jumped to assumptions.”
“It’s okay.” I say as she hands me a cup of blessedly cool water. I drink it down and hold it out for a refill.
She studies me closer. “If you need something—”
I cut her off before she can even say it. “It’s nothing like that—nothing to do with him. It’s something from my past, before we even met.” I hand her the cup as I stand.
“Okay.” Margaret says. “But you know where to find me.”
I find Trent in the hall.
“She let you go already?” He asks in amazement.
“Low blood sugar. C’mon, let’s get out of here.”
Trent takes my hand. “Let’s get you some food.”
We make it halfway down the hall before I hear Margaret call out. “Take these before you go.”
I sigh, but go to retrieve whatever she has anyway. No need to be rude, after all.
“It’s just some reading material.” She explains. “Remember what I said.”
Great. The Mall nurse is my freaking Fairy God-Mother. “Um, thanks.”
Trent and I look at the materials together. From the look of confusion on his face, I know I have some explaining to do.
Fairy God-Mother fail…
Trent is a perfect gentleman. First he takes me for something to eat. It’s not until I take the last bite that he looks at me expectantly.
“Yeah…you probably want to know what’s going on…” I let my voice trail of in non-commitment.
“It’d be nice.” Trent says plainly and just as vaguely.
We exchange a look for a moment while I try to figure out what to say—or how to say it? I’m not sure. I trust Trent…I do. Just saying the words out loud somehow makes it more real. I like to try to forget it all. Not my parents—just the way their lives tragically ended.
Something deep in Trent’s eyes causes my lips to begin moving before I know they’re doing it. As the entire story spews out of me, not once do I take my eyes off of his. I wait to see the thing I hate most in the world—pity—but it never comes. I see sadness, anger even…but not that horrible I’m-so-sorry-for-you look I’ve grown to detest.
And there’s something else there…
Understanding, maybe?
Shit.
It’s this exact moment that it hits me like a ton of bricks.
This man is as fucked up as I am.
It should scare me, but it doesn’t.
Maybe with both of our broken, we can make something whole…
***
Trent
I drop Felicity off and let the horror of her words finally sink in. I know all too well what she’s going through. It’s a tough pill to swallow, but I’m far more familiar with gang life than I’d like to be.
The gang that killed her family?
That’s my family.
What the fuck do I do now?
My fist slams into my dashboard. My knuckles split and throb, but it doesn’t bother me.
It feels good.
All the precautions I’ve taken against the rest of our family’s lifestyle, all the things I’ve done to separate myself from that, they’ve never even mattered until now.
And now is the one fucking time it’s not going to make any difference.
Chapter Four
"The opinion which other people have of you is their problem, not yours."
~Elisabeth Kubler-Ross
Felicity
Our nights here are numbered, but I know it’s rude to ditch out on everyone for Trent every night. It’s Becca who solves that issue.
“Tell him to come over.” She says simply.
Why didn’t I think of that?
A few quick texts later and a plan is set. Guilt alleviated.
That was surprisingly easy. Before I can overthink anything, I go to freshen up.
A girl’s got to have priorities, right?
***
I rush back downstairs about ten minutes before Trent is due to arrive. Eric waits in the main room, but Becca and Will must be currently—erm—indisposed still.
“Felicity, you look very lovely this evening.” Eric says.
“Thank you.” I say while my brain wonders where that came from. Eric hasn’t had any interest in me since the day we met. Why now?
Eric moves a bit closer and my anxiety kicks in full swing.
“Maybe tomorrow we can go into town. Get a bite to eat.” Eric offers. His voice sounds a little off.
“Um, thanks for the offer, but I don’t think that’s the best idea.” I try to let him down gently, I really do.
When Eric falters in his step slightly I realize that he’s been drinking. Before either of us can say another word, the doorbell chimes.
Bless his heart, Trent must be early.
It feels like I run to the door, which I guess I kind of do to get away from that conversation of awkwardness with Eric. Sure enough, when I fling the door open Trent stands with a grin on the other side.
I feel my own grin as it blossoms. “Hey.” My voice sounds different, but I chalk it up to my marathon sprint to the door.
“Hey!” Trent holds out a bouquet of flowers. “I brought you these. I know it’s kind of cheesy and all, but—”
He can’t continue to speak because I wrap my arms around him and basically attack him. Okay, not really—but I do kiss the ever-loving fuck out of him.
The moment our lips meet something inside me calms and ignites at the same time. It feels familiar and new all at once.
The initial shock must wear off about the same time for Trent because he deepens the kiss. Suddenly all my thoughts disintegrate while I forget where I end and he begins.
Just as a delicious tingle hits the base of my spine a throat clears behind me. Once. Twice. Ugh. We definitely have an audience.
Reluctantly, I peel first my mouth and then the rest of myself off of Trent. I smooth out my shirt and blot at my lips. Trent tries unsuccessfully to revive the now smashed flowers. I’m sure we both look guilty as sin.
“Hey, guys.” Becca says with a hint of laughter in her voice.
“Hey, Becca. Hey, Will. You remember Trent.” I don’t say anything because I’ve interrupted her more times than I can count.
“Yes! Hi, Trent!” Becca says with her usual enthusiasm.
“Hey, man.” Will offers a hand. They do some weird dude hand bump.
“I’d like to thank you guys for having me.” Trent says politely.
“You have no idea how glad I am to see you.” Becca says and earns herself an elbow as I walk past.
“She’s teasing.” I say and rush Trent inside. I know I earned this and more from Becca, but I never knew how much it sucked before.
Eric stands inside the hall and I decide that he’s a grumpy drunk. I mean seriously, somebody glue a raincloud over this guy’s head.
“Eric,” I try to be polite. “You remember Trent?”
Trent holds out his hand for the obligatory man greeting, but Eric just lets it hang there.
“Yeah, I remember Trent. Did somebody order coffee?” Eric says harshly.
Trent drops his hand and steps back to my side. “No, but apparently someone’s going to need some soon.” Trent slips his hand into mine and gives it a small squeeze. “C’mon, Felicity. Show me around.”
I’m more than happy to oblige.
***
Trent
About halfway through dinner I start to get really pissed. This Eric guy is a class-A douchebag. I don’t like the way he talks to me, but even more I don’t like the way he looks at Felicity.
I don’t fucking like it at all.
Becca and Felicity look uncomfortable. Will keeps trying to deflect the rude comments made by Eric and keep the conversation on track. His efforts don’t go unnoticed, but he’s drowning by himself. It’s his commitment that earns him an
okay spot in my book.
“Felicity,” Eric says and I feel my jaw clench. “I still say we should go grab lunch tomorrow.”
I swallow my last bite—hard—and begin to stand.
Will jumps in before I can rise completely to my feet. “Eric, I’m not sure what’s up with you tonight—but you need to go sleep it off or something, bro.”
Eric’s mouth falls open like on an old cartoon. “You’re picking his side?”
Will just stares at him for a moment. “Side? Are you serious right now? What are we—twelve?” Will lifts Eric to his feet with one arm quite impressively. “You’re drunk. Go. To. Bed.” Will’s voice is scarily calm.
Eric doesn’t say another word before he stalks off. I’m not really sure what’s going on—where this attitude he has is coming from—but I really don’t like it.
“I’m so sorry about that, Trent.” Will says sincerely. “I’m not sure what got into him tonight—other than Jack Daniels.”
I have to laugh at that. “I know that feel.” I assure him while I wink at Felicity. “And I’m still hungry. Let’s finish up before it gets cold.”
It only takes a few moments for the mood to change, but I still shoot a quick glare down the hallway for good measure.
***
It’s practically impossible to be around Felicity and be in a bad mood. My anger towards Eric quickly fades as we listen to music on the floor of her room and stare at the ceiling. Tool’s Pushit reverberates through the speakers and into the air while I examine our hands.
“This song kicks ass.” I say. This chick’s taste in music never ceases to amaze me.
“They’re one of my favorite bands.” Felicity says with her eyes shut. “Like ever.”
“Mine, too.” I hear a noise towards the steps and sit up. “Did you hear that?”
Felicity sits up and shrugs. “Nope. I only hear that.”
“Huh. Sorry…” I consider how to say what I want without sounding like an asshole. “So…is Eric always such a prick?”
Felicity laughs. “Actually, this is the first I’ve seen.”
“Maybe because he doesn’t want you to.” I mutter mostly under my breath.