Grey: The Encounter (Spectrum Series Book 1)

by Allison White

  He trails after me as I enter the kitchen.

  “Then how is this supposed to work?” he asks.

  “I don’t know, but not like this. Actual, thoughtful, work has to be done, but definitely not…that.” I open one of the cupboards in the kitchen and pull out a bowl. He grumbles how he wants one. I still pull out one. “Eating bread is better. It soaks up the toxins, so does a special drink—if you guys have the ingredients for it.”

  “How do you know that?” He sounds accusatory.

  I hum and collect the few items in their fridge while telling him, “I actually paid attention in Health class in the eighth grade. There was a lesson on toxins and the negative effects alcohol has on the body in the aftermath. But let me guess.” I spin on my bare feet and cock an eyebrow. “You were skipping class that day?”

  He shrugs. “Most likely.”

  I roll my eyes while thinking, of course, and proceed to pour milk in the cereal bowl. It is quiet as I make our breakfast, and I’m glad because it gives me a chance to think.

  I really shouldn’t be here right now. After he fell asleep last night, it would have been better if I slipped out and caught the early buses back to the dorms. After what he told me, I should be far, far away from him. I mean, who does something as twisted as that? Lie about sleeping with another person to “save” someone you care about. What he did was ruin the possibility of us being together, and he didn’t save me at all. He ruined me.

  And the fact that I’m still here, making breakfast, helping him, makes me question my own sanity…

  I am reminded of my surroundings when I feel his hand touching my shoulder, and him asking in a soft voice, “What are you thinking?”

  I shrug away from him, rounding the counter and sitting on a kitchen stool. “How messed up you are…and me too,” I tell him honestly, spooning Frosted Flakes into my mouth. I keep my eyes on the soupy cereal and block out his gaze, which I can practically feel burning through my flushed face. “I’ll get out of your way soon enough. Just make sure to finish that and keep hydrated.”

  “I know how to deal with a hangover,” he snaps. “I’ve had a lot more experience than you, remember?”

  I look up from the cereal to his disgusted scowl. “Nice to know.” I clear my throat and stand. “I have to use the bathroom,” I lie and speed walk in that direction. I just need some time from him.

  I think I hear him curse in regret under his breath, but I doubt that. He’s usually not remorseful when he’s an asshole. I lock the door behind me and lean against it.

  I don’t even know why I try. I want to reach inside me and shut off the stupid feelings I have for him, despite all he has done to hurt me. I want him to be able to talk to me, and not go rogue and try to salvage my feelings but end up destroying me altogether. I want him to control his mood swings, and for me to be able to fully be myself around him without wondering if he’s going to leave me for Diana. Again. I want a lot of things, but I can’t always get what I want.

  I let out a thick breath as I walk over to the sink. I twist on the faucet and lean down to wash my face. After a minute, I turn it off and blindly grab a towel from a nearby rack. I dry my face and neatly fold it before putting it in the green hamper behind me.

  I make the mistake of yawning, because I smell my breath and wonder when I had jalapeños and garbage. I wash my face and open the cabinet. I search for Listerine, hoping that they care that much for their dental hygiene. I spot it and take it down, but as I do, I spot a medicine bottle.

  I don’t mean to pry, nor do I have the intention of scoping out every little thing they have in here, but I recognize the name of the patient on the full, unopened bottle. Grey Wyler. And below his name is the name of the medication: Lithium, a medication to help stabilize bipolar patients’ manic episodes.

  I pick it up and set the mouthwash down. I examine the bottle filled up with pills. “He hasn’t been taking them. Not even one!” I gasp and look around before putting it back and frantically closing the cabinet. I don’t want to blame his lack of medication usage, but come on, doesn’t it explain everything? Why the hell isn’t he taking them?

  I quickly wash my mouth out and storm back into the kitchen. He’s sniffing the smoothie I made him and then making a face as he pours it down the sink.

  “Are you not taking your medication?” I know it’s not okay to just ask a person if they’re taking their medication, but I want to know if this is why he’s been so flip-floppy when it comes to me. If so, he needs to get back on them, so we can have a stable relationship. I sound like an asshole, but I don’t care. You’d understand if you were constantly getting hurt by the same person.

  He looks at me and stares at me with a bewildered expression. “How is that any of your business?” He sets down the empty bottle and crosses his arms. His stance is defensive.

  “I care about your health, Grey. And it isn’t healthy for you to not take your medication.” He’s lucky I care at all. Why is he being so angry at a simple question?

  “Oh, so you suddenly care about me?” Is he serious? I’ve always cared about him! But if he doesn’t see that in the way I stayed last night and took care of him, then that’s too damn bad. I won’t stay around to get attacked for caring.

  “I know, it’s crazy I do after all you’ve done to me,” I say sarcastically, waving my hands around. “But maybe you’re right, maybe I shouldn’t care at all. Then I wouldn’t have to be so stressed, wondering if your moods are gonna fly at me and hit me in the gut, and wonder if you plan on hurting me again.”

  “If you must know, I don’t take them for a reason,” he says, after glaring at me for a while.

  “What reason is that?” I lean my elbows on the nearby counter and watch him roll his eyes and shake out his tousled hair. “It’s fine, you don’t have to tell me. I’m officially done with caring for you. Whenever I try, it’s like I’m slapping myself in the face.” I storm out of the kitchen and into the bedroom.

  It’s true, though. I try to not get wrapped up in his bullshit, but every single time I find myself looking like a damn fool. And I am so done with looking like a fool. I’m much smarter than this.

  I pick up my shoes and sit on his bed to shove them on.

  He enters and stares at me. “Why are you leaving?”

  “Because you’re getting rude, and I don’t want to deal with you,” I explain, craning my head up to watch his face twist.

  “I’m the rude one?” He laughs a cruel laugh and spits out, “You’re the one questioning if I’m taking my medication. You don’t see me asking if you’re taking your pills.”

  “I am. That’s why I’m functional throughout the day,” I say with a bitchy smile. I am horrible for saying that, but I can’t help that he brings out the very worst side of me.

  “Fuck you, I’m functional every god damn day,” he defends himself. “If you weren’t so up your own ass, you’d see it too.”

  “What I see is you losing your shit every time we’re together. You’re more up your own ass than I ever am. You rely on the past and old tedious actions all the time, effectively screwing with me and us. You think of Rose, probably twenty-four-seven—well, enough that you have a god damn reminder with her face popping up every day—and try to save me, when really, you hurt me! And you fuck Diana God knows how many times and come around to me like it doesn’t matter. Well, guess what, Grey? It does fucking matter! And the sad part is, you think I could still take you back after all you’ve done.” I laugh at the end as I stand.

  “And you know what else? I am completely over you! Go ahead and screw Diana. Do it in public, I don’t give a damn anymore. Then, you wouldn’t have to hide it behind my back!

  “I don’t care about her, Liv! I care about you! I always have, and I always will!” he shouts, stepping forward. “And Rose…I don’t want to think about her anymore. I stopped when I met you. You were—fuck—you were all I could think about. I was afraid she would never leave my brain, but then I sa
w you and she vanished into thin air. You have to believe me when I tell you that I want you. Please, Princess.” He looks pained.

  I open my mouth to whip back a comment, but my pants buzzing cuts me off. I dig into my pocket and pull out my phone. David is on his way up and is offering me a ride back to campus. I accept his offer and walk around Grey, intending to leave him hanging like he has done to me so many times before.

  He reaches for my hand but I expected him to take it, and pull it into my chest. I walk over to the elevator and push the button for the ground floor.

  “Where the hell are you going?” he shouts.

  “None of your business.” He doesn’t deserve to know anything.

  “Why are you so God damn stubborn?” he exclaims. When I don’t reply, he gently nudges my shoulder and smacks his hands on either side of my head. “I’m here telling you that I fucking want you, yet you’re walking away from me.”

  “Because you only hurt me, Grey!” I snap, unable to hold back my anger. “All you ever do is hurt me. Why would I ever want you if that’s all you’re going to do?”

  “I’m fucked up, I get it. But that doesn’t mean I can’t care for you.”

  “Doesn’t it?” My voice is low, and I shake my head, pushing against him when I hear the elevator. He looks like I just shot him in the heart. I know the feeling, Grey. I hate seeing him this way, but he brought this on himself.

  I suck in a deep breath and get in the elevator. I press the button and lean against the metal wall. I watch as he grabs something from the floor before slipping in after me.

  I instantly roll my eyes and shout, “Why are you following me? Just let me leave!”

  “Why the fuck do you have Sam’s number in your pocket?” he snaps at me, glaring at me and the crumpled paper in his hand. He looks up from it and balls it in his fist. Why is he so angry I had his number? It’s not like I asked for it. I was hesitant to take it from him in the first place.

  I simply shrug and eye the way he’s glaring at me. “He told me to give it to you the next time I saw you. I meant to give it to you earlier, but I honestly forgot I had it.”

  “I don’t want it,” he barks and proceeds to tear it into tiny shreds. “When did you see him? Is that why you’re so hesitant to take me back? Have you been seeing him behind my back?” Is he actually serious right now?

  “Like you were seeing Diana behind my back?” I quip, facing him with conviction. I refuse to be accused of something I would never do. Not that I have feelings for Sam, or anything like that. He’s supposedly Grey’s friend, and I have more morals than to see him over Grey. Unlike Grey…

  “It’s not like that,” he says, exasperated.

  “Then what is it like?” I glance at the elevator doors. How long does it take to get to the ground level? “Because it seems to me you’re being jealous for no reason. You shouldn’t even get to be mad that I had his number. I am not owned by you, nor do I have to deal with your bullshit.”

  “Jesus Christ,” he mumbles into his hands covering face. The elevator comes to a stop, and I step off, walking briskly toward the entrance of the building. He suddenly whips me around and leans down to tell me with an intimidating glare, “Sam is a bad guy, one you shouldn’t be associating yourself with. Stay away from him.”

  “I’d rather be with him than with you,” I tell him and gape at him while wrenching myself away. His eyes widen like I just told him he has days left to live.

  “You did not just say that.” I didn’t mean it in that way, but he doesn’t have to know that.

  “Oh, yes I did.” I smile a condescending smile and turn on my heels, gunning for the glass door. I spring it open and spot David leaning over to prop open the passenger door of his blue Toyota Corolla.

  “Come back here, we need to talk,” he booms behind me, and I walk faster, nearly running to the car.

  “No, you need to talk to a therapist. Not me,” I shout over my shoulder and slide into the passenger seat. I close and lock the door just as Grey runs up to it. He tries to open the door but ends up snapping his hand back and bending to glare at me through the window. I arch my eyebrows and tell David, “Please drive, David.”

  Grey pounds his fist on the door, screaming mumbled words I can’t comprehend. David clears his throat. I look over at him, and he looks sheepish as he rubs his neck and glances at his friend.

  “You sure you two don’t need to talk?”

  I shake my head. “No, I’m sure. Now, please take me home.” He looks at me with a weird expression before sighing and driving away. I watch Grey’s fallen face before we zoom down the road.

  I turn in my seat and tell myself to not look in the rearview mirror. “There is nothing more to say.”

  Chapter Fifty

  The minute I got inside my dorm room, I broke down into tears. I felt as if I were holding in a dam’s worth of tears. Tears that I never wanted to shed. Not on the behalf of Grey. That bastard. He ruined everything. Why did he have to be himself and destroy what we were building—us? How could I have fallen for such a complex and self-damaging guy? I used to be smarter than this. What the hell happened?

  I didn’t get one minute of sleep. All I could do was curl into a ball on my bed and think about him and how I wish things could be easier. There has to be an easier way than this—this pit of pain in my stomach. It’s beginning to consume every inch of my being, and I don’t want it to. I don’t want to be scarred by him, never able to hide from the agony he caused me. But I don’t think that’s possible.

  He is all I can think about, and all I believe I will ever think about. But I want him gone. I want him out of my head, and I just want to go to class and study and forget him. He’s like a tattoo I regret, but it’s too late. He’s engraved in my skin, never to fade away.

  Now, it’s the next morning, and all I can do is stare at the ground. I haven’t showered, nor have I eaten anything. I have tried to get up and actually be productive, to not let him rule over me to the point that I’m not able to function. But I can’t seem to move my feet or find the motivation to anyway.

  But after a while, I find myself writing more for my entry for the internship program. It will help me in the long run for when I’m looking to start my career after college, plus I have motivation for this thing in particular at the moment.

  “Do you think we can whack one out with her being asleep? We’ve done it before.” A hushed whisper causes me to stop writing and watch as the door opens.

  “I mean, we can try…” Jaimie’s voice is timid in response, but she erupts in giggles. Julia chuckles but smacks her shoulder as she closes the door after her girlfriend. She is spun around, but before they can start whatever they planned on doing, I clear my throat.

  “Oh, Bambi, hey. What are you doing up so early?” Jaimie asks in a high-pitched voice.

  I glance at the clock on my bedside table and sigh. “It’s eight a.m.”

  “Shouldn’t you be at the library?” Julia asks, narrowing her eyes. “I mean, we kinda got stuff to do, but you can stay around for it. Just don’t complain about it afterward.” She pulls Jaimie forward and starts kissing her neck, but Jaimie looks at me with concern.

  “Stop, Jules. She looks like she needs someone to talk to,” Jaimie says, taking a step back. I look away and lamely twist a charm on my wrist. I don’t need her pity, or anyone else’s.

  “I’m okay, really,” I tell her with a strained smile.

  “Hear that? She says she’s okay,” Julia sing-songs, holding her girlfriend.

  Jaimie rolls her eyes and gently pushes her away. “She obviously isn’t.” She takes a seat next to me and I let her. “What’s wrong, Bam?” She takes my hands in hers as Julia groans and flops onto her bed.

  “Nothing is wrong,” I tell her, pulling my hands from her. “You two should do whatever you were going to; I’ll go shower and head over to the library to study.”

  Julia shoots up with a grin. “You heard the girl.”

  Jai
mie shoots her a look and pulls me back down. “You aren’t going anywhere. It’s obvious you’re not okay. And that’s fine, but you have to tell me what has you so upset. Julia can wait and grow the bluest of balls, I don’t care.”

  “Hey!” Julia exclaims.

  Jaimie rolls her eyes and smiles at me. When did she become my girlfriend? I’ve never had one before. The closest one I had was Charlotte, my housekeeper, Louise’s, daughter. She and I would sleep over at each other’s house, and we would talk about her guy problems. The only guy problem I had was the cranky owner of the bookstore, who would give me problems from time to time.

  I debate whether or not to tell Jaimie what’s been going on. Would it hurt? Probably not. It’s not like she’d blab to anyone else about it. I truly trust her.

  “Go on, Bam,” she says, urging me to speak by gently gripping my knee.

  Might as well, I tell myself.

  I suck in a deep breath. “Grey lied to me. He never really slept with Diana. Not once. But he led me to believe he did, because he had this horrible idea that if I did, he’d somehow be sparing my feelings. But he didn’t. In fact, he ruined my feelings. He ruined me, and the thought that he was somehow sane, considering—” I stop myself. No one knows he’s bipolar, and I don’t want to tell her even though I trust she won’t spread it across campus, because it is not meant for me to casually share.

  “Anyway, he pushed me away instead of talking to me, and he hurt me. But I refuse to be with him if this is how he’s going to treat me. Like I am not worthy enough to talk to, or enough to stay with instead of running off to God knows where. Now that I am thinking, I wonder where he did go all those times…” I want to ask him, but I don’t want to see him again. I wish the ninety percent of me could agree with that statement.

  “Why don’t you just stop seeing him?” Julia questions. “You know, avoid him? It isn’t that hard. This is a huge campus, and he doesn’t even live on it.”