When Sh*t Gets in the Way (When Life Gets in the Way Book 2)

by Ines Vieira

  “I think I fucked up,” I mumble to no one. I stand up from Drew’s bed and quickly grab my phone to tell him to hurry his ass over. I don’t think I need his confirmation on how royally I blew it this morning with Quaid, but I do need his help in thinking up a way for me to make it better. I’m still texting Drew when I get blinded by some shiny thing in Evan’s bed that is capturing the light from their second-floor window. I squint my eyes to get a better look at the item and see whatever it is, is stuck below Evan’s pillow and only a small golden bit has escaped its fortress. I stand up to my feet and take the few steps I need to get to Evan’s side of the room and pull the pillow away from whatever it is that blinded me. What I find takes my breath away. I bend to grab the gold necklace that is as familiar to me as any item I have back in my dorm room. The butterfly wings meticulously made and the word on the bottom left side of one wing striking both fear and trepidation.

  Bella.

  The term of endearment Izzy’s dad calls his daughter, and this necklace, his gift for her eighteenth birthday before coming to New York.

  “You weren’t supposed to find that,” I hear, and I jump back at the hoarse voice behind me. I didn’t even hear the door open as I was too enthralled with my discovery.

  “This belongs to Izzy,” I say stupidly since both of us know damned well what I just stumbled upon.

  Evan is wearing nothing but a towel hugging his waist, and I don’t know if I should be glad he was caught at such a vulnerable state, or if my fear should triple instead.

  “It was you. You’re the one that's been sending Iz all those awful texts and photos. You’re the one who is making her life a living hell, not knowing when you'd do something more offhanded,” I bark out nervously.

  “I would never hurt Isabella,” Evan glares at me. His stance intimidates me only because he’s taller and broader than I am, but the aura around him looks relieved that his dirty little secret is out in the open.

  “It’s kind of hard to believe you when you harassed her for the better part of the year,” I scoff, holding my ground. Although I’m talking to him, engaging Evan in conversation, I’m also hyper-aware of Quaid’s words to me in case I ever found myself in a dangerous scenario.

  See where your exit is. Try to get to it in as little time as possible.

  Scream fire as loud as you can.

  People come to help when fire is called out. If you scream help, you’re most likely to be left to your own devices.

  Check the enemy’s weak spots. Target them. Don’t try to beat them, just hurt them enough to get away.

  Quaid’s voice is dominantly calling out to me, instructing my every move.

  “I didn’t want to scare her,” Evan replies, his eyes fixed on the necklace in my hand. Every time I pull it closer, he seems to get more agitated.

  “This doesn’t belong to you,” I tell him harshly. “Nothing of Izzy’s belongs to you,” I continue and start to put the necklace in my back pocket.

  “No,” Evan growls and reaches over to me to grab the necklace. It all happened so fast that I don’t think my mind even caught up to what my fist was about to do until I did it. Before I even let Evan touch me, I slam my open palm with all the force I have and connect it to the side of Evan’s nose, breaking it with one fast, mean swoop. He falls to his knees grabbing his bloody nose, and it’s those measly seconds I need to run behind him to grab the door handle and get the hell out of this room. But even before I make it to the doorknob, Drew opens it and gawks at the scene before him.

  “What the hell happened here, grasshopper?” he yells, looking at a fallen Evan and my agitated state, making him unsure of who he should be helping first.

  “It was him, Drew. He’s the one who has been antagonizing Izzy all this time. I found her necklace under his pillow. He didn’t even try to deny it! It was him, Drew. It was him!” I yell, my whole body shaking with adrenaline.

  “Holy shit! Is that true, Evan?” Drew asks apparently still grasping at a plausible excuse for his roommate to have his best friend’s necklace in his possession.

  Evan just sits back on the floor defeated, and leaning his back on the bed and nods his culpability.

  “You don’t get it. No one will get it. I see Isabella. I can see right into her. She’s so much more than the bubbly airhead persona she puts out,” he says staring at the floor unable to look at either Drew or I in the eye.

  “I hate that she gives herself so willingly to assholes that don’t treat her like the queen she is. She sells herself short to the world when in my eyes, the world should be on their knees for her,” he whispers on.

  “So, kick me, punch me, do your worst. You can’t do anything to me that I haven’t done to myself already. Isabella has put in transfer papers to get out of this school, and I’m the reason why she’s leaving. I scared her away because I was petty and vindictive. I went on a power trip of how I could hurt her the same way she hurt me, and now I’ve lost her.”

  “You never had her, Evan,” I spit back at his reasoning of scaring my friend.

  “You don’t know what we had. Isabella and I had a connection. We understood each other. We talked and talked for hours on end. I ruined it. I wanted more, and she didn’t. I could have been like Drew and licked my wounds and backed off when he had to let the one he wanted get away. But I just couldn’t. And I couldn’t continue to be her confidant, either. Her rebuke turned me into an illogical animal. I don’t even recognize myself in the mirror anymore. She’s twisted me inside out, but what I’ve done to her has tarnished my soul black.”

  “Now you’re repentant? Do you think I feel sorry for you? That this little show of remorse is supposed to bend us into understanding why you tormented and stalked our friend for months, to the point that she was too scared to leave our dorm room alone?”

  Evan cringes and I see I’ve hit a nerve. He doesn’t like hearing about how his actions affected Izzy, but like hell, if I’m going to be gentle.

  “Do you think those stupid candid photos didn’t fuck with her sense of security? That it didn’t impact her thoughts, her feelings, her unease of the people around her, even her sleep? You broke a happy young woman and replaced her with an untrusting, scared human being that jumps at the sight of her own shadow. You did that!”

  “Jess, that’s enough. He gets it,” Drew says, and I open my eyes wide at him for even daring to interrupt my rant.

  “I don’t think he does. I think the only way he will get it, is if he feels it. If he feels his freedom and security being taken away from him. That’s how men like him learn. Drew, do not fall for this little act of his. Evan is not the victim here. Izzy is.”

  I crouch down and look Evan straight in the eye, proudly seeing the blood still pouring from my well-placed punch.

  “Listen to me carefully, Evan. I will do everything in my power to protect my friend, and if that means getting you kicked out of this school or arrested for stalking, by God, I will.”

  Too revolted to entertain a minute longer in the same room with Izzy’s tormentor, I give him one more distasteful glare and get the hell out of there.

  ***

  “Oh my god, I remember. It was all so fast I didn’t think anything of it,” Izzy exhales after I explained this morning’s encounter with the boy behind the texts that crippled her confidence.

  “It all started with that stupid frat party we went to at the beginning of the year. I had too much to drink, and you were gone, and Drew had suddenly disappeared, so I let Evan walk me home. I mean I was a mess. I was plastered, and I think he was trying to flirt with me, so I laughed in his face. I laughed, Jess! That’s why he started to torment me the rest of the year. Sending me nasty emails and texts day after day calling me all sorts of names and making me feel like I was being watched everywhere I went. I humiliated him, so this was his way of getting back at me. His retaliation to my callousness. Oh my god Jess, I did this to myself,” she cries into her palms. I hug her with all my might, trying to give he
r some comfort, but this is a lot to process.

  “You want to know what’s ironic in all of this? The thing is, at the time, I was actually crushing on the guy who was sending me all those sweet texts. He was smart and captivating and so unlike anyone I had ever met. Not in a million years would I ever have thought he was Evan. If he had just come out and said it was him then maybe I wouldn’t have been so mean. I might have even kissed him that night. I mean I had been texting him the whole night anyway wanting to be with him instead of all those stupid frat boys.”

  “Babe, Evan’s crappy way of dealing with your shunning should not fall on your shoulders. Yes, maybe laughing at his poor excuse of flirting was insensitive, but what he did was illegal. If he didn’t have the stones to come to you and ask you out properly, while you were sober, I might add, then that’s on him, not you,” I counter. I clean her tears away, hoping I’m getting through to her.

  “I do think you should get a restraining order and make a complaint to the Dean. His torment of you was cruel and diabolical. He needs help. I mean, mentally lock him up in a Cuckoo’s Nest, white jacket and all, kind of help.”

  “I need to think about it. This is all too much right now. Let me just think about it,” Izzy remarks pulling away from me and getting back into bed. I’m frustrated she doesn’t want to take action now, but I won’t push her until she’s ready. I know it’s a big deal for her to take charge in her diminished state, but I hold Evan responsible for that, too. I understand she needs time for herself to make sense of what she should do next, but I don’t want her to pull away too much.

  “He said you put in transfer papers,” I tell her. I don’t tell her he looked like an extra for the Walking Dead when he told me that little piece of information. Somehow Izzy has got it in her thick skull it’s her fault he acted the way he did. I’m not giving her more reasons to solidify that notion.

  “I’d put the papers through a while back and haven’t had time to go to the admin building to stop the process,” she hushes pulling her knees under her chin.

  “You didn’t have the time Iz, or you weren’t sure if transferring was the way to go?” She looks at me with fresh tears in her eyes and just nods. Evan really did do a number on her. I scoot over and kiss her head, offering another hug of comfort.

  “It’s okay Izzy. I get it. You needed an escape plan in case things went south. There’s no shame in trying to look out for yourself. But in light of these events, I do hope you reconsider. For purely selfish reasons of course. I mean I lucked out on my first roommate becoming one of my favorite people in this whole wide world. I doubt I’d get that lucky the second time around,” I tease her, and a faint smile crosses her face.

  “I got some errands to run. You going to be okay here on your own?” I ask a bit wary of leaving her.

  “I’ll be fine. I need some time to think things over if you don’t mind?” she asks meekly.

  “Sure babe. Anything you need. Just give me a shout, and I’ll come running if you need anything, okay?” she nods, and I pick myself off the bed. It’s not even noon and the day has been too eventful for words. From Quaid’s early declaration to Evan’s disclosure, this has been one sucky ass day. I give Izzy on more hug, and then I’m out the door again. For the next couple of hours, I just wander aimlessly with my thoughts clouding my vision and my feet taking me to God knows where. Will Izzy be able to overcome this? Will Evan get the punishment he deserves? The unwanted image of Dave's face comes to the forefront of my brain, and I push it back as fast as I can. Izzy's situation is different. She doesn't have to be a silent victim here. She has proof, and most importantly Evan admitted his guilt. If she wants, she can press charges against him and get the justice she deserves. She doesn't have to keep quiet or pretend it never happened, like me. She can do something about it, and I envy her for that. My only vindication was Quaid's wrath.

  Quaid.

  Will he forgive my hasty retreat from this morning?

  All of my thoughts are a jumbled mess in my head and I don’t even know where to turn to next. Which problem can I tackle first?

  I laugh like a maniac once I realize where I’ve been heading all along. My mind might be in a constant war with what I have to do, but my heart and apparently my feet don’t have the same problem. I find myself walking into Quaid’s grandparents' penthouse lobby and asking the doorman if Quaid is inside. He tells me Quaid hasn’t been here in days. I pull out my phone and see that I have about ten missed calls from Drew. I make a mental note to call him later, but first I need to reach Quaid. I call his cell, desperately hoping he’s not so upset with me to decline my call, but his phone is switched off. He’s either at the children’s hospital doing a shift, or he’s at his frat. Luckily, my best friend is currently dating one of his frat brothers. I immediately pull up Drew’s number and click call.

  “Jesus Jess, where have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Drew yells over the phone in such a way I have to pull the receiver away from my ear. I get he’s worried about what happened this morning in his room, and he wants to check in on me, but Izzy should be the one to have his full attention, not me.

  “It’s okay Drew. I’m fine. Izzy, on the other hand, is debatable.”

  “Yeah, I know. I already stopped at your dorm to check on her. She seems a bit overwhelmed with the Evan debacle.”

  “Overwhelmed is a nice way of putting it. Freaked out beyond measure and with a tinge of unjustifiable guilt would be how I would spin it, but you say tomato, and I say tomato. Anyway, that’s not why I called, I need a favor,” I tell him already turning a corner.

  “Wait, Jess, I need to tell you something first,” Drew states nervously. He probably feels guilty for not realizing Evan was the 'Big Baddy' our trio was looking out for, but right now I don’t have time to placate his misguided guilt.

  “It can wait Drew. First, I need you to call Grant. I need him to tell me if he knows where Quaid’s at right now. I need to talk to him,” I plead.

  “Quaid’s in the hospital, Jess,” Drew hushes defeatedly, and I don’t understand why Drew would immediately know Quaid’s whereabouts.

  “Okay. Do you think you can find out from Grant when his shift finishes?”

  “No, Jess, you’re not hearing me. Quaid’s not at the Hospital; he’s in the Hospital, grasshopper. He was in a major car accident this morning. That’s why I’ve been trying to reach you. He’s in surgery as we speak.”

  I feel the tear of a bullet rip my insides apart, and poor Drew was the one that pulled the trigger. I can’t breathe, and my legs turn into limp noodles as I collapse on the street floor between a deli and a flower shop. A young couple stops and helps me to my feet, but I’m too out of it to register what’s being asked of me. I’m clutching the phone for dear life as I hear Drew yell out with worry. My mind is blank. A couple of minutes ago, it was jam-packed with questions, insecurities, confusion of the future to come. But with a few key words, Drew has made that all go away.

  Car Crash

  Accident

  Hospital

  Surgery

  Quaid

  Quaid

  My Quaid.

  The young woman still holding me up is saying something to her partner, concern tainted in her tone, but I don’t have time to reassure her that I’m not the one to worry about. I bring the phone back to my ear and ask only one question.

  “Which hospital?” My voice so cold that Drew immediately stops yelling from his end.

  “St. Mary’s.” I end the call and walk to the middle of the street yelling for a taxi.

  “Miss, Miss. Are you alright? Do you need us to call anyone? Do you want us to take you a hospital?” The young woman asks still shaken up from watching me collapse on the side of the road.

  “Yes. I need to go to St. Mary’s Hospital. Just take me to St. Mary’s.”

  Chapter 33

  Quaid

  I feel like there are bricks lying on my chest and making it hard for me to br
eathe. My whole body hurts. I want to move, but I can’t seem to feel much from the waist down, except for feeling constricted somehow. My mouth is dry, and I would kill for a glass of water. I try to open my eyes, but they also feel too heavy to move. I fight through it and establish something must have gone terribly wrong.

  From the corner of my eye, I see a nurse standing beside me, taking notes on her chart of whatever that God awful beeping machine is showing her. She must sense some movement on my part, even though I’m struggling just to move my neck her way, and offers me a sturdy smile.

  “Well good evening, young man. Glad to see you finally decided to grace us with your presence,” she says taking a good hard look at me. I’m still a little bit hazy, but I manage to offer her what I hope is a grin. It could have come across as more of a smirk, but right now I’m too tired, and I hurt too much to be polite.

  “Where am I?” I ask hoarsely. It even hurts to talk. Every time I take a breath, my lungs seem to catch fire.

  “You’re at St. Mary’s, child. You had a nasty crash last Saturday,” she states checking my IV.

  Last Saturday? How long have I been out then?

  “What day is it?”

  “Tuesday. Let’s just say you gave the people outside quite a scare. You came in with some broken ribs, and your leg was in pretty bad shape, too. No running for you for a while,” she goes on, and that’s when I see my left leg is elevated on a swing in a full cast.