Making Her Wait

by Brianna Cash

  Dammit!

  Throwing my pool stick onto the table, I start walking to the door, but Kane gets in my way, blocking me from going anywhere and grabbing my arm as I stumble to a stop in front of him. “There’s gonna be a good explanation for this, just wait and see.”

  “Fuck off! What the hell kind of explanation could there be?”

  “I don’t know, but she’s a great girl. She wouldn’t go out there to fuck him when she’s getting it from you.”

  “She’s not!”

  Kane’s face contorts to an expression of disbelief. “Say again?”

  “She’s not getting it from me.”

  He thinks about that for a few seconds, maintaining his position that blocks my way. “There’s still an explanation. She loves you, Walk. Anyone with half a brain can see that. She’s not gonna do that to you.”

  “She just fucking did.”

  “Huh-uh. I’m not buying it. You should have a little faith in your girl. Sit down. Have a drink. Let her explain when she comes back.”

  “If she comes back,” I grumble, unable to come to terms with what I just let happen.

  “She’s coming back. For you. To you. She’s your girl, Walker.” Kane pushes me into the seat where Genny was sitting with Alex. Picking up the beer Alex was sipping, I throw it down my throat, needing something to numb the anger that’s tearing me up inside. It doesn’t work. I think about getting another shot, instead, but I can’t. I have to find out what she’s doing. I have to find out if she still wants me. I have to find out if we’re still an us.

  Us. As in Genny and me.

  Genny, the girl who gave me her heart today, and I told her I didn’t want it yet.

  And me, the asshole who simply watched while the guy she used to fuck started an argument with her.

  Fucking Goddamn it all to hell.

  I stand up and barrel toward the exit, needing to see if she’s still here, and what she’s doing with him if she is. When I slam the door open, Genny stumbles backwards, her fingers on the handle as it flies toward her. She looks up at me in surprise, her cheeks flushed, her eyes wide and nervous, and my heart bottoms out in my stomach. I reach up and grab the doorframe, to steady myself and block her entry.

  “Walker…”

  Her voice is breathy, and one hand moves to smooth her dress down over her ass.

  “Really Genny?” I demand, my voice low and hard with rage.

  “Really what?”

  “You couldn’t wait for me? Had to go fuck my roommate in the parking lot because I wasn’t giving you quite enough? Couldn’t keep your legs closed another week or two?”

  Gasping at my words, her eyes show me just how much I hurt her before turning as cold as mine. She stares me down, not denying a word I said.

  “You never trusted me at all, did you?”

  “How the hell could I? You just proved I couldn’t.”

  She closes her eyes, furious at the truth I spelled out for her. A single tear rolls down her cheek and I can’t help but be glad she’s feeling even a little bit of the pain that’s ripping my heart to shreds.

  The second her angry eyes meet mine, I know it’s over.

  Completely over.

  And it’s just as disastrous as we both predicted it would be.

  Throwing my keys at my feet, she sneers, “Go to hell, Walker.”

  She turns around and walks out of the bar, out of the parking lot, and out of my life.

  Walker

  Living in this apartment with Chad is killing me, even though I’m doing everything I can to avoid him. I saw him Sunday, at the game. I usually play defense, but I switched positions again, so I could kick his ass on the field. He didn’t seem to care one way or the other, but I suppose that’s because he already won. He got the girl. Stole her right out from under me. While she was on a fucking date with me.

  Right after the game, I started seriously looking for a new place. There’s not a whole lot available in my price range. If my parents hadn’t turned my old room into a home gym, I would ask if I could move back in with them just to get away from him.

  Today is Tuesday, the day Callie and I were going to surprise Genny. It started out simple. I said I’d take them both out to eat, since I was taking Genny away from Callie for an evening. Callie said she wanted to cook us a meal instead, to show her appreciation to Genny, who’s done so much for her. Not only since their parents died, but especially while Callie went to school, to get a degree, something Genny wasn’t able to do.

  Then it morphed into Callie wanting to make a painting for Genny. She was going to present it to Genny before the meal, but then Callie wanted out. She wanted me and Genny to enjoy the meal like it was a date. I didn’t like that idea. I thought it should be about Callie and Genny, but Callie was hooked on this idea, and she wouldn’t let it go.

  She’s stubborn, just like her whore of a sister.

  Callie: Where are you? You were supposed to be here half an hour ago!!

  Genny must not have told Callie what happened.

  Callie and I had gotten close over the many times I’d seen her, just like Genny had gotten close to my nephews. Genny broke my heart, but Callie didn’t. And I don’t want to ruin her image of her sister; I don’t want to be the one to tell her that Genny fucked someone else while out with me. And Callie is going to want details, she’s not going to accept this easily.

  It’s still pretty fucking hard for me to accept.

  Walker: I’m not coming, Cal. Genny and I aren’t working out.

  I go for short and sweet, already knowing there’s no way it’ll fly.

  Callie: Bullshit! You guys are perfect together. What do you mean it’s ‘not working out?’

  Walker: Genny and I over, Callie. If you ever need anything, let me know. But as for why it’s not working out, you’ll have to talk to Genny.

  Genny: Don’t worry, I will.

  It sounds like a threat, and coming from Callie, I think it is. They’re close, so I don’t think Genny will lie to her. But that would also mean Genny will have to admit she was the one who fucked this up, and I don’t know if she can do that. She’ll probably blame it on me. I shouldn’t care what Callie thinks of me, but I do. I don’t want her to think I was the one who hurt Genny. I don’t want to be the bad guy. Not to anyone, but especially not to Callie.

  Kane and Alex both think I should’ve let Genny explain, that there had to be a different explanation. But I’d seen enough to know. I don’t need her excuses or her lies.

  Zander’s on my side. And Heidi. God, Heidi is a pain in the ass. I loved Genny’s reaction to Heidi. Hell, I loved Genny. I still love Genny, and I hate that it took me losing her to figure that out. But I can’t get over this. I can’t forget this. I can’t forgive this.

  Needing something to do, I head over to Reese’s. I don’t know if she’s busy, but I don’t care, either. Zeke can always make me smile. He’s one person I can count on to not fuck me over.

  Except when I get there, he’s begging me to text Genny and ask her to come over. I tell him no over and over until I snap, and he’s standing in front of me crying, because I hurt his feelings and all he wanted was to see Genny.

  Reese isn’t appreciative of me yelling at Zeke for my own screw ups. I don’t tell her it wasn’t my screw up. I don’t tell her anything at all. I just leave.

  Deciding to give up and go to bed early, I’m almost asleep when I get another text from Callie.

  Callie: You’re a fucking asshole. And she didn’t cry. Thanks to you, she’s back to showing NO emotion.

  Guess Genny lied to Callie after all.

  Walker

  Saturday, my entire family is at Reese’s. Zeke and Finn, who’s finally walking, are in the kiddie pool laughing and splashing each other until one of them gets mad and they both start screaming. Steve is seated in a nearby chair supervising and interfering very little. His parenting technique is to let the boys figure it out. I think Finn’s a little young for that, but what
the hell do I know? They’re not my kids.

  Zeke is still asking for Genny. It’s only been a week and I know he’s going to be asking for her for a long time. I miss her, despite being mad as hell at her, and that pisses me off. I should be able to hate her after what she did. Part of me does, but there’s another part, of equal size, that loves and misses her, and that part is making me fucking miserable.

  Reese is inside with my mom, preparing who knows what to eat. It’ll be delicious, but I won’t taste it. My anger makes it impossible to enjoy anything, even the things I usually love. Dad is at the grill. He tried to talk to me but left after I snapped at him.

  I’m lashing out at everyone. I’m trying to control it. It’s not going so well. Which means, I’m sitting under a tree in the shade, all by myself, surrounded by my family members that I’m slowly pushing away from me.

  Fan-fucking-tastic.

  It’s been a long week.

  Next week promises to be more of the same.

  Can’t fucking wait.

  Walker

  Stepping into the pool hall Friday night, where I’m supposed to meet the guys, I almost stop breathing when I see them. For a second, I think it’s her. But it’s not. It’s her younger look-alike.

  Callie’s talking with Alex. Someone else is with them and it slowly dawns on me that it’s Calvin, their brother. I never got to meet him. I wanted to. I wanted to know her whole family and everything about her. I wanted her to meet my parents and go to all my family functions. I wanted her to be a part of every single aspect of my life.

  Alex, Calvin, and Callie are all laughing about something. They seem at ease, like they know each other, like they’re comfortable with each other. Callie must feel my eyes because she turns around and looks directly at me. She shakes her head while glaring at me, obviously believing whatever Genny told her instead of the truth she’s probably never heard.

  She taps her brother on the shoulder, saying something to him and pointing me out. I’m still standing in the doorway watching them. He sizes me up, saying something to Callie while watching me.

  I don’t need this shit.

  I don’t need them telling lies about me, making me out to be the person who was in the wrong. Turning around, I walk back out to my car. I have no idea where I’m gonna go, but I’m not staying here.

  I get a text late that night from Alex. Reading it, I delete it, then turn my phone off completely. They’ve got him against me now, too.

  Alex: You should really let Genny explain.

  Genny

  “Do you wanna know how it went?”

  My eyes snap shut. I swallow thickly around the lump that’s now constantly stuck in my throat. It takes all my willpower to summon my neutral expression, but it’s firmly in place when I turn to my sister Saturday morning. Calvin’s on the couch still sleeping. It was nice to wake up with my entire family under the same roof, but I’ve been reading on my phone and drinking disgustingly delicious, unsweet coffee, dreading the moment one of them would wake up and tell me about their evening.

  Ready or not, the time is here.

  “Yeah, of course. Did you have a good time?”

  The sound of the coffee machine fills the silence and Callie waits until she and her mug of coffee are seated with me at the island. She gives me a smile, but her eyes are sad. Which means I know exactly what’s coming.

  “Walker was there.”

  My lungs squeeze as every last molecule of air is sucked out of them. I raise my coffee so she can’t see the devastation written across my face. My neutral expression doesn’t have near enough power to remain in place when a storm stirs up the wreckage of my heart every time his name is mentioned.

  Even when my neutral expression slips, I can usually still hold all that wreckage inside. If anyone’s good at pretending everything’s ok when it’s clearly not, I am.

  At least when anyone is around.

  Callie’s been working so much she’s hardly ever here. This is the first I’ve seen Calvin all summer, and he’s asleep. Myra’s busy. Michelle and Sam are an official item in the throes of new love, spending every spare minute together. And those are all the people on the I-care-about-Genny-Stottler list.

  When my parents died, everything was suddenly my responsibility, and I had no experience with responsibility. Zero. Zilch. The loss of my parents, the loss of my dreams, the loss of me, as an individual, the loss of the certainty and confidence I’d always had but disappeared as quickly as my parents’ lives ended, had me reeling in a sea of numb confusion.

  I was lost. I had no one to lean on, nothing to fall back on, no idea how to make everything work. I forced myself through each minute, focusing on one little thing and pushing everything else to the back of my mind until it was the most pressing thing in it’s own moment. When that got comfortable, I worked toward ten minutes. Then a half hour. Then an hour. It was slow, agonizing progress, but it was progress.

  With this break up from Walker, I’m experiencing loss in a whole new way. I know how to be responsible. I know how to get shit done. I know that it’s imperative that I form a routine and follow it to a T, to make sure I get through the day on autopilot.

  But I’m not numb.

  I wish I was. I wish, more than anything, that I could stop feeling, because then I wouldn’t feel like I was back underwater. I’m in a place where all I see is my tiny little world. But this time, I’m very aware of the world outside my line of vision and nothing’s muted. My emotions are here, live and in color. I was floating when I was submerged before, but these emotions are so strong they’re like a giant boulder trapping me on the bottom, so I can’t get to the surface. And I have to get to the surface, because not only do I know how great the surface is, but here on the bottom, I can’t breathe.

  Breathing underwater isn’t possible. I must’ve had a tank of oxygen strapped to my back before I met Walker. Because I lived underwater, and I somehow still breathed. It might not ever have been as full a breath, not anywhere near as cleansing as the fresh air above the waterline was, not nearly as satisfying and effortless as being happy and thinking that I was finally moving toward a future of my own choosing.

  But I still was able to breathe.

  And I can’t breathe anymore.

  I make a show of it. I pretend I’m ok. No one believes my act, but they let me keep pretending, because the few people in my life that are left that care about me, know that I need the act to survive. If I give in to the pain, to the feeling of losing my dreams again, of losing myself again, or at least the happiest part of myself I’ve ever found, I don’t know that I’ll ever come back from it.

  The pain is too overwhelming.

  The person I was becoming with Walker was too happy.

  The dream I thought I was going to get was too perfect.

  Every time I start to think that my life is moving in the right direction, somewhere I want it to go, somewhere that I chose, not fate, or life, or the Lord up above who apparently hates me with a passion I will never understand, reality slams the door to the future I was creating.

  I don’t have control over my future.

  The only thing I have control over is how I react to the shitty hand I’m always given.

  “Yeah? How’s he do-”

  My voice cracks. My shoulders bounce. My throat closes completely.

  I clutch at my throat, trying to hold it all in, but it can’t be contained.

  The façade is over.

  A sob breaks through the confines of my chest and tears stream down my cheeks as I double over at the pain twisting my soul. It twists my soul like a chain, doubling up on itself, then tripling, then quadrupling. I become smaller and smaller inside this shell of a body. My soul is a shy, terrified being hunched in the corner, trying to become invisible so it doesn’t have to suffer its way through yet another blow.

  Callie’s arms surround me, and her breath is shaky as she tries to comfort me. “Genny,” she whispers, her anguish almost as easy
to hear as mine. “I’m so sorry.”

  I’ve always been the strong one. The only time my siblings have seen me cry, before right now of course, was on our parents’ anniversary. I need to find the strength I once had. Maybe it was a different kind of strength. Maybe it was for a different reason. Maybe it was because they depended on me, and needed me, and they don’t anymore. But there’s got to be some of that strength left. I have to find it. I have to hold onto it. I have to somehow rebuild it into something I can find whenever I need it.

  My parents’ died and I had to take on the role of responsible adult when I was anything but. This is hard, but it’s just a fucking relationship. Relationships end all the time. Isn’t that why I avoided them in the first place? Maybe what I had with Walker was exponentially more intense than anything I’ve ever felt with anyone, but I need to keep going. If what I went through ten years ago didn’t kill me, Walker’s words and easy dismissal certainly won’t.

  “If I’d never given him a chance, you never would’ve won that contest,” I reason with her. Swallowing thickly, I wave my hand at all the missing artwork on the walls. “You’re in high demand, little sister. You’re officially an artist, and now that you’re graduated and have a real job, you’ll have the time and money to create the pieces you’ve always wanted to. And people will spend good money on them because you’re so talented.”

  Her face crumples, which is not what I was expecting. She grips my hand and regards me with tears in her own eyes. “It’s my fault this happened. I told you to give him a chance. I thought he was a good guy. I only wanted you to be happy, I swear.”

  “Oh, Callie… Walker is a good guy, and this is no one’s fault but my own.” My voice threatens to give out on me again, so I stop and take a shaky breath. I wipe my eyes. I lick my dry lips. I clutch her hands in mine, wishing things were so very different. Then I meet her eyes again and give her the truth.