Forever With You (Silver State Series)

by Renae Kelleigh

The tables are all full by the time we get our food, so Tawny and I make our way outside to sit on the low concrete wall that divides the sidewalk from the street. I watch her as I unwrap my chicken soft taco, wishing like hell I could read her mind. She’s been really quiet ever since Gilman walked up a little bit ago. I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure out if there was something I said that might’ve set her off. All I did was introduce them, though…

  “Is it good?” I ask as soon as she takes a bite of her queso burrito. She nods but doesn’t say anything else.

  Seriously, what the hell? I go back over the situation in my mind, trying to remember verbatim everything I said…

  Aw, fuck. I don’t want to jump to conclusions here, but the only thing I can think of that could possibly account for her weird behavior is the fact I introduced her as my “friend.” Yeah, so maybe that was a touch callous of me – but what the hell else does she expect me to call her? It’s not like we’re dating. Or at least, that isn’t a word that’s been brought up in conversation.

  Fuck, does she think we’re dating? Are we dating? I’ve never been good at this shit – it’s part of the reason I don’t have girlfriends. I hate assigning labels; it just makes everything more confusing. This situation, right now? – case in point.

  And anyway, the point isn’t that I don’t want to date Tawny – in fact, if I’m being perfectly honest, the thought of our relationship becoming something more causes funny (and not altogether unpleasant) things to happen to my heartbeat – things I’m entirely unused to feeling. Still, shouldn’t we at least talk about it before I go throwing around words like “girlfriend”? After all, I don’t think she’d want me to introduce her as “the girl I have sex with on occasion.”

  God, what a fucked up situation. Somehow I need to find a way to make it up to her.

  Chapter 14 – Presto

  Sunday, September 11

  Tawny – 6:00 PM

  Yesterday ended up being highly productive for me – I spent hours lost in the stacks at the undergrad library, working on projects and catching up on reading. The fact there’s no cell phone reception there, and therefore no feasible way for anyone to contact me, only served to motivate me further.

  That isn’t to say I didn’t do my fair share of daydreaming. Kyle actually ended up being really sweet on Friday night after the botched situation with his friend Gilman – he bought me a Frosty from Wendy’s on the way back to my dorm, remembering I’d told him they’re my favorite dessert, then gave me a really amazing, lingering kiss goodnight. He also made sure to tell me he wants to “hang out” again next week, and even mentioned a couple of things we could do, as if to underscore the point he wasn’t just thinking about sex. I guess if I’m going to be somebody’s “fuck buddy” (even though I cringe at the thought of those words being applied to me), I should feel thankful he’s at least willing to engage in conversation with me from time to time.

  When I walked out of the library it was well past dinnertime, and my stomach was growling in protest. I had a text message from Aiden asking if I’d thought any more about the magic show he invited me to. Feeling fairly accomplished in terms of schoolwork and also eager for some form of distraction, I accepted his invitation.

  The show starts at seven-thirty, but Aiden picks me up at six to take me to dinner with his friends, Brady, who I met when we went tubing, and a girl named Vivian, who’s quick to inform me this isn’t a double date – she and Brady are purely friends. I laugh awkwardly in response but refrain from telling her Aiden and I are only friends as well.

  During the drive we listen to a band Aiden likes called Nightfall Symphony; he animatedly points out the harmonic guitar lines, and I can’t help laughing at his giddy excitement, even if the music isn’t my favorite.

  We stop at a diner a few blocks away from the Peppermill Casino. Brady gushes about their burgers, and Vivian assures me I’ll like their milkshakes. A hostess shows us to a booth, and Vivian sits next to me while Aiden sits directly across from me. Our waitress, a girl with carrot colored hair and braces, drops off ice waters. The way she scratches her pen against her notepad as she takes our orders evokes a brief flashback to Frank’s Pizza – I’m glad to be through with that place, but at the same time I feel a surprising twinge of nostalgia mixed in as I remember a few of my regular customers. In any case, I have to give this girl props for maintaining her enthusiasm while mired in a minimum wage job.

  A bit later she drops off a plate of chili cheese fries, which Aiden claims are his favorite. He insists I give them a try, and they actually are pretty good. He pushes the plate between us and encourages me to eat as many as I want. It’s a dangerous thing for him to say – given that I skipped lunch today, chances are good I’ll polish off more than my fair share if I’m not careful. I ration myself a quarter of the plate and begin taking fries one at a time to make them last. Every so often Aiden glances over and beams at me, flashing his dimples, as I abscond with more and more of his food.

  About halfway through our meal, as Aiden and Brady are engaged in their own conversation, Vivian turns to me and says in a low voice, “So… What’s up with you and Aiden? – If you don’t mind me asking…”

  I look at her in confusion before my eyes snap to Aiden. He laughs appreciatively at something Brady said before fitting his mouth around a gigantic bite of his cheeseburger. Turning back to her, I shrug one shoulder. “Umm. We’re in the same group for our language class…” I let my voice trail off, wondering if I’ve answered her question.

  She nods once, regarding me contemplatively as she chews on her straw. “But you went boating with him at Tahoe?” she asks.

  I nod back slowly, unsure where this is going. “I was down there with my sister that weekend,” I explain. “We met up to go tubing for a little bit.” I cringe at the clipped tone to my voice. Why did that just sound defensive? It’s not like she’s accusing me of anything.

  “Well,” says Vivian, “not that this is any of my business – but I’m pretty sure he has kind of a thing for you. So just, you know, keep that in mind… If you feel the same about him then great – and if you don’t, just…let him down easy, okay? Aiden’s one of my best friends, and I’d hate to see him get hurt.”

  I’m too stunned to say anything, so I just stare at her as she sucks down the last of her vanilla milkshake and acts as if our conversation never happened. Aiden has a thing for me? I blink at the man sitting across the table from me. He’s still laughing as he rubs his belly; a moment later he stretches his arms over his head, revealing a slice of his bare abdomen. Something stirs faintly deep inside me… Hmm.

  Aiden looks at me with an inquisitive smile on his face, and I realize I’ve been caught staring. I offer him an embarrassed grin, then press my lips into a line and look back down at my plate. I finish my meal in thoughtful silence.

  7:30 PM

  The magician is performing in one of the lounges at the casino. It’s a more intimate atmosphere, with comfy red chairs and loveseats arranged in a semicircle around the performance area and candles burning on small round tables between the rows. Brady and Vivian take a couple of chairs near the center of the room, and Aiden and I sit on the loveseat between them.

  The lights dim, and the show starts right on time. It begins with the magician, a man in a pinstriped suit with a waxed mustache, performing a vanishing trick with a long stemmed white rose. I grow more amazed and impressed as the act goes on and he fluently executes one illusion after another.

  In the middle of the show, after he makes a card that was chosen and marked by one of the audience members reappear in a brand new, sealed box of cards, I gasp and cover my mouth with my hands. Aiden looks over at me and chuckles, then reaches for my left hand and gives it a tug, lowering it to the cushion between our legs. I’m shocked when he doesn’t withdraw his fingers; instead, his hand remains loosely covering mine. I dart a furtive glance at him, but he just stares straight ahead, a faint smile twitching around the corne
rs of his mouth.

  Initially I feel tense, caught off-guard by his sudden display of physical affection. After a minute or two, though, I start to relax and even begin to enjoy the feel of the warmth radiating from his fingers as he gently holds my hand. It feels sort of…nice, in a way.

  Aiden doesn’t remove his hand until the show is over and the lights re-illuminate. Brady and Vivian turn to us and begin gushing about the various feats performed; we keep up a steady stream of accolades for the quiet illusionist as we make our way out to the parking garage and commence the drive back to campus.

  Aiden first drives past Manzanita Hall, where Vivian lives, and Brady gets out after her. It’s a short walk back to my dorm from here, and I tell Aiden as much, but he insists on delivering me directly to the front door.

  The car seems eerily quiet after the others have climbed out of it. He stops a little ways back from the front sidewalk, several yards short of where Kyle normally parks – my gaze wanders to the spot where he’s left his Jeep idling the last couple of times he’s been here.

  I return to the present when Aiden looks at me and smiles, resting his elbow on the center console and laying his other hand in his lap. “I hope you had a good time,” he says softly.

  I grin back at him. “It was a lot of fun,” I reply. “Thank you for inviting me.”

  “You’re welcome. We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

  I nod. “I’d like that.”

  He curls his lips into a half smile, then glances over my shoulder at the high-rise building towering in the background. “I can walk you to the door,” he says.

  I shake my head as I place my hand on the door handle and push it slightly ajar. “That’s all right, I can make it alone,” I say. “It’s well lit. They don’t like for people to leave cars here unattended.”

  He seems reluctant, but slowly he nods. “All right. Have a good night, Tawny.” Before I can slip away he gathers my left hand in his the way he had during the magic show, only this time he brings it up to his lips and presses a soft kiss into the back of it. Call me a sap, but for a moment I’m actually immobilized by the romantic gesture – all I’m capable of is staring at him with my mouth hanging slightly open. He rubs the pad of his thumb across the back of my hand and gives it a final squeeze before letting go.

  I clear my throat and smile weakly. “Good night,” I whisper. I slide out and shut the door behind me, then turn and hustle up the sidewalk to the front doors. I pass Beatrix in the common area on the way to our room; when I unlock the door, Harumi is in her bunk, lying on her stomach with her knees bent and her ankles crossed, listening to her headphones. I go quietly to my own bed and sit down, my head bursting with a million thoughts.

  I stare absently into space as I unwind my scarf from around my neck and slip off my shoes. My mind alternates between mental images of Kyle and Aiden. When it comes to which of the two causes my pulse to race faster, there’s really no contest – Kyle has held the same sway over my nervous system for years. Still, I’m attracted to Aiden, and that attraction is only intensified by the fact he’s such a gentleman – a gentleman who allegedly has “a thing” for me.

  Even though my thoughts default back to Kyle, I can’t help but think my longstanding feelings for him are fairly irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. I went into this “arrangement” with him with open eyes, knowing it would be for only one purpose. Now when I think about Aiden, I see a considerate, handsome man who might be interested in me for more than just my body – and it sheds a whole new light on my friendship with him.

  I fall back on my bed and close my eyes. For the most part it’s easy to imagine our friendship evolving into something more, partly because it just seems so logical. I can’t explain it exactly – it’s just that, in a lot of ways, the thought of letting Aiden take me out on a date or kiss me is a comfortable one.

  Then again, there’s another part of me that seems highly resistant to the idea – and I’d be lying if I said I couldn’t pinpoint why. For as much as I wish it wasn’t true, that knot of rebellion has everything to do with Kyle Freeman.

  Chapter 15 – Diagnosis

  Tuesday, September 13

  Kyle – 12:15 PM

  The first call from my grandparents’ land line came about halfway through my Media Production class. I pulled my vibrating phone out of my pocket and pressed the button to silence it, figuring I’d call them back after class. I did the same thing for the second call, which was fifteen minutes later. Now, with ten minutes left of class, they’re calling a third time, and I decide I’d better see what’s up. I stand up and begin to excuse myself down the row of fold-out desks as my classmates tuck in their feet and scoot their backpacks to make space for me to pass.

  Once I’m standing in the quiet corridor outside the lecture hall, I tap on the missed call and wait as the phone begins to ring. Jack sounds a little out of breath when he answers, and I picture him jogging from another room to pick up the old corded handset in the kitchen. “Kyle?” he breathes into the phone.

  “Yeah, what’s up? Is there something wrong?”

  “Well… I’m sorry if I interrupted anything, son,” he begins. “Your grandmother wanted to talk to you—“

  Before he can finish another voice comes on the line. “Is that you, Kyle?” Donna says.

  “Yeah, it’s me.” I glance through the rectangular window in the lecture hall door and see the professor pacing in front of the class, and I wonder what I’m missing. I don’t know whether to feel more alarmed or irritated that they chose now to call.

  “I told him I could wait till this evening when you were out of class, but the old coot wouldn’t listen to me,” she says, directing her grumpiness at Jack just as he hangs up.

  “What’s up?” I ask, trying to keep my voice neutral so as not to show my impatience.

  Donna heaves a sigh. “I went to see the doctor, and I have breast cancer.” She says it all in the same breath, in the same petulant tone you’d use to complain about someone taking too long to count their change at the grocery store checkout.

  Several seconds tick by as I struggle to process what she just said. Several more pass before I’m able to even begin formulating a coherent response. It occurs to me she’s continued to ramble on in the meantime, and what she has to say is probably important for me to hear – but I can’t make sense of a single word. When she finally pauses all I can think to say is, “What?”

  “I said, this isn’t anything for you to worry about. They caught it early, so it will be perfectly fine. I have no idea why Jack insisted on calling you right this second…” Her voice trails off as she continues grumbling about my grandpa’s perceived overeagerness.

  “No, I’m glad he called. This is a pretty big deal, Donna. I just need to throw a few things in a bag, and I’ll head home this afternoon.”

  My mind is still spinning as I manage the logistics in my head when she surprises me by saying quite forcefully, “No. You are not to come home. You have school – please don’t be ridiculous and make a big deal out of this like everyone else is. You know I can’t stand for things to be blown out of proportion.”

  I sigh, recognizing the grim determination in her voice. I can tell she really doesn’t want me to come back. “Listen,” she says her voice softer, more placating. “This isn’t an emergency, okay? You know I always love having you home, but I can wait. Let’s see how things go, and if you still want to come in a few weeks then I’d be all for it.”

  I chew on the inside of my cheek, completely torn. Finally I let out a resigned exhale, letting her win. “Okay,” I say quietly. “How are you feeling though?”

  “I’m fine,” she says. “No different than usual.”

  “All right… Good. Can you just…put Jack back on the phone, please?”

  I work to dislodge the lump forming at the base of my throat as I wait for Jack to come back on the line. When he picks up again, I clear my throat. “So…” I begin. “Was she telling me t
he truth? Is she feeling okay?”

  Jack sighs, sounding just as defeated as I feel. “For the most part, yes, she seems to be,” he replies. “You know she doesn’t like to complain, though. It’s hard to tell when she’s telling the truth and when she’s telling a fib to keep people from worrying over her.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I say, using my free hand to massage my forehead as I cast my gaze down at the speckled linoleum floor.

  I ask a few more questions and listen as Jack fills me in as best he can on everything the doctors have told them so far – treatments, cures, prognoses. By the time we hang up, class has been dismissed and students are pouring from every classroom on the corridor. I fight my way back into the lecture hall just long enough to grab my stuff, then push out the side exit.

  My mind is a swirling clusterfuck of emotions. I begin to feel dizzy, so I drop onto a stone bench and attempt to process my thoughts. I’m sad for Donna, and I’m scared for Jack – I can’t envision either of them without the other. And, much as I hate to admit it, deep down I’m also angry – because I can’t help thinking of my good-for-nothing mother, and how she should be there with them right now. Too bad the idea of her stepping out on her vagrant lifestyle long enough to care about someone else for a change is almost laughable.

  After a few minutes I pull out my phone again and send a text message to the only person I know who might actually be able to understand what’s going on in my head right now.

  Tawny – 12:45 PM

  You busy?

  I’m in the student union having lunch when I receive the text message from Kyle. I twitch my lips to the side as I puzzle out what to say. I’m still not happy about the way things ended up last Friday night, but time and distance have lent me some perspective, and his words are beginning to seem like less of an affront.

  At the union eating. I have class at 1:30. Why?