Six Years

by Stephanie Witter

  SIX YEARS

  Copyright © 2015 Stephanie Witter

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical without express permission from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

  Cover Design by Jo Raven

  Editing by S. Drake

  Formatting by Stephanie Witter

  Books by Stephanie Witter

  Series

  Patch Up (Patch Up #1)

  Fix Up (Patch Up #2)

  2B Or Not 2B? (The Roomies #1)

  Standalone

  By My Side

  Six Years

  To Lucii and Jo.

  Ladies, your support means the world to me.

  Little B,

  I can’t believe I am doing this. I never thought that I would be such a jerk and write a letter to tell you this. It’s because I am a coward and can’t face you.

  I have spent the last few weeks thinking, imagining your face, the look in your eyes when I tell you three little words that would break us apart.

  I am leaving.

  Our friendship means so much to me, and I truly hope you will remember it. You are not just my little neighbor, but you are my best friend and the six year gap separating us doesn’t change that.

  Even though your friendship, you, mean the world to me, I can’t stay any longer. I just can’t anymore. I am eighteen, I have graduated and now I have college ahead of me and I can finally move on. I don’t have to focus on my mother’s shit because I can build my own life. My dreams are there and I need to take my chance. Alone.

  You are only twelve, but you are far more mature than you should be. You know me and I am sure you knew deep down that I would do this; leave without a look back. I need this, I need a fresh start or else I will never be able to turn the page and move on.

  It breaks my heart to leave you behind with just this letter, but I don’t know how to do this otherwise. I have no clue, I don’t know where I am going with my life or if my dreams will ever come true, but my life is enough of a mess for me to not draw you in. You have enough on your plate with that icy family of yours. Don’t let them ruin the sweet and caring side of you. You deserve so much better, you deserve to smile, to have someone in your corner. You just deserve the world.

  But I am not worried, not really. I hope you find a replacement in no time for our movie nights, someone who will always be there for you, someone with whom you will laugh like we used to. You deserve someone who is not fucked up like I am, someone who can show you how amazing life can be and let’s face it, I am not the best to do this. Not yet, anyway.

  Don’t forget me too soon, but never look back. Move on, build dreams, dream big and go for them. That’s what I’m doing and maybe one day you will see my name on some bestselling list.

  Your Big No

  BROOKLYN

  Finishing a shift at three in the morning was inhuman. My black converse clad feet were killing me. What I wouldn't do for a foot rub. And neck rub. I groaned and locked my very old and tired car. I shouldered my purse and walked like an old grandma to my simple one-story house, where my parents clearly hadn't bothered to keep the porch light on for my late return.

  I made sure to not look at the house next door. I kept my eyes fixed on the ground and sighed. I couldn't wait to leave this neighborhood. There were too many memories to haunt me.

  I climbed the four steps to the porch and unlocked the front door, ready to take a quick shower and go to bed before my mind wandered to places I didn’t want it to. I resumed my routine. I took a shower, didn't bother to dry my long brown hair mixed with dyed red locks because this July was one of the hottest of the last decade according to the local media and walked in my bedroom to put on the first PJs I could find. Tonight was black short shorts paired with a discarded white tank top I had thrown on my unmade bed that morning.

  And then, like every night, I went to my window with my view on the house next door. I opened the curtains, aware of the ache in my tired arms after spending hours carrying a tray. I couldn't sleep with the curtains closed.

  I barely caught myself before I screamed my head off. There, just on the other side of my window was a man I couldn't really see in the dark. The only thing I could make out was that he was tall with lean muscles under his dark clothes. I should close the curtains instead of staring at him. After all, it was well-known that this neighborhood was no stranger to a drug deal or two. But I was still at the window, riveted to the spot. There was just something about him…

  "Little B?"

  My mouth dropped open and I shook my head. It couldn't be possible. His voice sounded deeper and darker, but with the same drawl. And he just couldn't be here. He left. I mean, he left six years ago. And yet, he was calling me Little B.

  I should say something and play my part by calling him Big No, but I couldn't. I didn't want to and I couldn’t even process his presence here. So, I opened my window, the air clearing my mind and I cleared my throat. He took a step closer so I could see his face. He looked older. I shouldn't be surprised after all, but I was. I could only picture him as eighteen in my mind, but now he's every bit a twenty-four year old guy I didn't even know anymore. Still numb, I tried to reconcile this man to the boy I used to know.

  His light brown hair was shaggy now and not buzzed cut short as it used to. One soft looking lock fell into his hazel eyes which were studying me carefully. His nose just a little too big for his face was the same, breaking his almost perfect pretty look showing the world an edgy man who could seduce anyone—which I knew for a fact—with his hard jaw, high forehead hidden by his wavy hair freed of any product and his thick eyebrows bringing the last touch to his eyes. And his thin lips barely stretched in a smile, but when he did smile, it was like the world went upside down. My eyes caught the loop on his bottom lip. I was with him when he got that at sixteen.

  And then, the hurt I had felt at twelve when he left came crashing back, but I wasn't a naïve little girl anymore. I looked back at his eyes, frowned and crossed my arms over my chest.

  "I go by Brooklyn."

  He sighed and nodded. "You remember me, right?"

  He used to be so sure of himself, at times even cocky, but right now he sounded unsure. I laughed bitterly. Like I could forget him. "You're Nolan Bell, New York Times Bestselling author who wrote something like five books so far."

  He braced himself against the window. We were almost at the same height now. That's when I realized how I had grown over the last six years even though I was still slightly shorter than him.

  "I hoped I’d always be Big No to you.’’

  I leaned forward, not caring if I invaded his personal space. "I'm Brooklyn and you're Nolan."

  "I get it but..." He looked back at his old house before gazing at my bedroom over my shoulder. It's not gray and pink anymore, but black and red. I painted the walls in a cherry red the day after he left. All the furniture is black and my bed's comforter almost all on the floor was red with giant black polka dots. There was no trace of the Little B he left behind. "Can't we catch up a little?"

  “At 3 am?’’ I sighed and shook my head slightly. “Why are you here, Nolan?" It was weird to say his name. It felt foreign on my tongue, but I guessed that it suited the situation damn well. Shit, it was so painful seeing him again. My heart squeezed in my chest.

  He broke eye contact and bit on his lip ring. I knew this habit of his. He did it when he was nervous or an
gry. Some things hadn't changed at least. Like how I felt when he did this. I felt sad knowing something was bothering him.

  "My mother is dying. I’m here to take care of a few things."

  I didn't feel sad for the woman as harsh as it seemed. Of course, I wasn't happy, but she made her son suffer so much that I couldn't feel any pity for her. But of course Nolan felt bad and would come back here for her. But never for me. Bitterness didn’t even cover how that made me feel. It’s such a mess.

  "She's not living here anymore," I replied, pointing at the house next door.

  "I know. I wanted to see if you still lived here, though."

  "Not for much longer."

  "Where are you going? College?" he asked with a smile, probably thinking about how I used to tell him I wanted to go to San Francisco to study and then travel the world.

  "I'm not going. I'm going to rent a flat in a couple of weeks, that's all."

  "Why not college?"

  "You don't know me anymore. I'm not the twelve year old girl you left behind, things changed.’’ I tensed up some more, not ready to disclose anything further. We’re strangers now. He’d made sure of that.

  He nodded, his eyes taking in my body for the first time. I shivered when I saw him grit his teeth. "I see that, Li…’’ he stopped mid-sentence. “Brooklyn.”

  "Listen Nolan, it’s late and I'm tired. I worked my ass off tonight and I really need to crash.’’ I needed to cut this short and recover as I felt my mask of indifference fast slipping. My chest started to ache more and more as if allowing air into my lungs was difficult.

  "Maybe we could catch up later? I just... I just want to know that you're okay."

  "Doesn't it look like it?"

  He stayed quiet for a few long dragged seconds, his eyes studying my face carefully. “Not really."

  And he walked away towards a shiny posh SUV. So what if I didn't smile and genuinely laugh everyday? My life was harsh. I’d learnt to leave behind my silly dreams and I’d been taught the hard way like only real life could teach you these things.

  Not everybody has the chance to embrace their dreams.

  * * *

  NOLAN

  I parked my car in the nearly empty parking lot of the only reasonably nice hotel in this dump hole of a small town. As soon as the engine died, I put my forehead on the steering wheel. With my teeth, I tugged on my lip ring until the pinching turned to pain and I exhaled.

  Little B had changed so much over the years. She’s not the same small little girl with chubby cheeks and no curves. She’s nothing like I remembered and yet I instantly knew it was her. She was home, the only good thing I ever gave up from my past to follow my fucking dreams. I was too much of a coward to try and keep in touch with her when I knew she damn well needed me.

  She’s no longer smiling when she’d met my eyes, no longer that hyped child that always wanted to see the good, always optimistic. Instead, all I saw was a tired young woman, bitter even. Life had been a bitch for her while I was fucking girls in college and then dropping out when I got that famous call for several book deals.

  And something else that hit me with such force when I looked at her. Her beauty. I’d always known she’d become a beautiful woman, but what I saw…Fuck, I don’t even want to think about. She’d been a girl I used to see as my kid sister. Commenting, even in my head, about how had it been a few years ago and If I’d have just met her, I’d have done everything I could to shag her.

  I sighed and straightened up. I grabbed my phone, my keys and climbed out of the car. The night air was hot and sticky. I ran a hand in my hair, pushing away some longish strands sticking to my forehead.

  I hate this town, these people and all the memories haunting me. The bad far outweighed the good and it didn’t work well with my new life. At every turn I could picture myself as the angry teenager trying to keep his junkie mother afloat while making sure that she wouldn’t use all our money on her drugs instead of buying food to keep us alive. I never had a childhood and it made me sick that Little B stopped having a semblance of one after I left, because I knew that’s what would happen. And yet, I turned my back on her after writing a fucking letter that never came close to expressing how I truly felt.

  I walked to the hotel and made a deal with myself. I wouldn’t leave Riverdale until Little B was back in my life, until I could make sure that her life wouldn’t be the same shit it used to be. I owed her that much.

  * * *

  BROOKLYN

  I barely slept. Seeing Nolan Bell last night, or early this morning, was unexpected and stirred up many memories I preferred to keep locked up. At one point in my life, he was the only one who knew everything about me, the only one I wanted to go to. I might have acted like a cold bitch, but he didn't know how much he’d hurt me when he left six years ago, leaving behind just a short letter for me. Nothing more to summarize our friendship, our bond. Just a fucking letter I kept in the top drawer of my bedside table. But I couldn't tell him how I missed him the first year, how awful my life had been and how I had had to learn, alone, to build a concrete wall around me, marking the real and definitive end to Little B.

  I sipped my coffee at the window of the kitchen, my eyes trained on my old beat up car. It'd been years now since I stopped trying to be the perfect daughter to attract my parents' attention even for a minute. The last time I saw them was three days ago when I left for my evening shift at Lenny's, the local bar high-school friendly during the day and more adult friendly at night. Of course, they barely acknowledged me, just like usual. I never knew anything else. I sighed and put my empty mug in the dishwasher already half-full.

  I glanced at the house next door which was now rented by a young couple, but for me it would always be Nolan's house. The house he never wanted me walking into by the front door because he was afraid I'd see his mother high or passed out on the couch or worse, frantic to find some cash to buy some more drugs on our street. Every day I tried to avoid it, but today was different. I never thought I'd see Nolan Bell again and I never imagined I would feel like such a loser if it happened. At twelve, I had big dreams for the future, big dreams to get out of this suffocating small town, but these dreams slipped away after some time. I could blame his departure, but it would be a lie. I wasn't made for bigger things and that was the harsh truth. I faced it, moved on and adapted.

  I grabbed my keys and walked out. I was tempted to hide, but I didn't even know how long he'd be around and really, I wasn't known to be the kind of girl to back down and Nolan being back wasn’t going to change that.

  I started the car, cringing at the loud noise it made. One day soon it wouldn’t start and I'd be in deep shit to say the least. I turned on the radio and took off to Lenny's, my second home, the place I spent my working hours and a huge part of my free time.

  * * *

  NOLAN

  Lenny’s hadn’t changed. I snorted at the crooked sign above the rackety door and I pushed it open. I blinked a few times while my eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness of the bar.

  I shook my head and walked to the counter, ready to order a soft drink. The waitresses and bartender were new, or new to me, but nothing else seemed different. I had spent so many hours at this bar during my high school years. My friends and I enjoyed picking up older girls, women even from time to time while Lenny let us drink a beer or two once in a while.

  “Big No? You’re shitting me, man!’’

  I glanced to my right at hearing the nickname I got back in high school for being too tall and muscular so young and chuckled at my oldest friend, a guy I always used to hang out with back in the days, before I cut off everything and everyone after I left. Mike, the mayor’s son and womanizer extraordinaire. If there’s a mother fucker who knew how to treat girls badly, it was him.

  He took off his Raybans and put them on top of his head as his grin spread wider, displaying twin dimples that made girls go nuts on his cocky ass. He punched my shoulder and sat on the high stool next to mine. He
signaled the bartender for a beer and barely spared him a glance.

  His brown eyes scanned me, taking note of my expensive clothes, the same kind he’d always worn. I wasn’t the same poor kid anymore.

  “Well, look at you, Big No. All successful and embracing it. How’s life?’’

  I shrugged and took a sip of my soda. “Good. I’m doing what I’ve always wanted so I’m not complaining. You?’’

  He made a face and gulped a good third of his beer. It was answer enough to be drinking alcohol in a bar so early in the day. “Working for my father and staying the hell away from him. I don’t want a repeat of finding him in his office with some woman spread eagle on his fucking desk while he’s going down on her. Scarred me for life.’’

  His father had always been a real fucker. While he came across as a great man for most of the town who voted for him over the decades, I knew how fucked up he truly was. That’s probably why I bonded with Mike early on. We both had less than stellar families.

  “How’s your mother doing?’’

  “Probably fucking on the side too,’’ he answered swiftly, his tone darker as his eyes got lost in the amber liquid in his tall glass. He shook his head after a while and grinned at me again. “Now that you’re famous and loaded I bet you’re swimming in pussy.’’

  I chuckled at his crass words. He hadn’t changed all that much over the years and it was oddly comforting. I pictured my life in New York and felt that odd hole in my chest. I had everything I should want, everything I dreamed about and some more, but still. The best word I’d use to explain this would be that I was bored. Once you achieved everything and you didn’t have more dreams, there’s nothing else left. I couldn’t even build new dreams anymore. That didn’t mean I didn’t want to be considered one of the best in my job, but the thrill, the drive I used to feel was almost completely gone. Somewhere along the way I lost myself, or parts of me.