“Thanks. Yeah, justice will be served.” It takes him about thirty-five minutes of cutting and styling, but the finished product is exactly perfect. I can hardly recognize myself, which is exactly what I wanted. Granted, I look like a fuck boy, but whatever; it’s a change.
I get to my appointment a little early. My heart beat is getting faster and louder. What if that skank gave me a STD and I gave it to Lyrics? Fuck! I get a text from Lyrics.
“Just want to tell you that I love you and I am here for you.” My heart fucking snaps. I know she is here for me, but I just don’t know if I can be there for her. I’m not the same person I was. I’m not that innocent man that can be carefree, playing music with his best friend. I’ll never be that naïve again. Look at where that got me.
I feel like an asshole getting tested for STD’s at thirty years old.
The doctor comes in and says, “Spoke to your mom earlier and she told me what happened.” Okay, now I feel like an asshole being thirty and having my Mommy call the doctor for me. I’m mortified.
Doctor Simon says, “Tanner, I’ve worked with your family for years and years. You have nothing to be embarrassed about or ashamed. Have you filed a report yet?”
I look down and say, “No and I’m not going to.”
“It’s your choice, but I would like to encourage you to do so. Men rarely report rape by a woman because they think that because they became erect, somehow, they wanted it. That’s bullshit though. Most men get hard from a soft breeze. Of course, they will get hard from being touched. It’s one of those automatic things. You are not at fault. What she did was criminal and she needs to pay the consequences.” She will pay, that’s for sure.
I look up at him and say, “Thank you, Doc, I just want to get the tests and get the hell out of here.”
He nods and says, “Let me look at your nose first.” He walks over and places two fingers on either side of my nose. “Looks good kid. I would like to re-tape it so the pull is strong and it will settle a bit quicker.” I shrug and he pulls the bandage off. He pulls a mirror up and aside from some bruising, it looks pretty much back to normal. He quickly replaces the tape and lets me know that the nurse will be in to draw blood and collect my urine. As he’s walking out he turns around and says, “Son, this is not your fault.” I nod and give a half smile. His words anger me. I keep hearing that it wasn’t my fault, but it was. I should have never let my guard down around her, not even for the half of second it took her to drug my beer. So yeah, it was my fucking fault.
The nurse comes in and hands me a cup and then points to the bathroom. She says, “Make sure it is at least halfway full then bring it back in here. When you come back I’ll get your blood drawn and get you out of here as quickly as possible.”
I smile and quietly say, “Thank God.” It’s not easy pissing when you know somebody is waiting for you. Finally, I can go. The ricochet of the pee shoots out of the cup and lands on my shirt. I am about half a second from losing my cool. I fill the cup halfway and set it on the counter, and then wash this piss off my shirt. I walk back into the room, cup in hand and Nurse Ratchet begins to laugh as she notices the water circle on my shirt. As I begin to explain myself she cuts me off by saying, “Honey, it happens ten times a day. It’s one of the highlights of working as a nurse.”
I have to laugh. I say, “Well, I’m happy to entertain you.”
She chuckles and gets serious. “Give me your arm honey. Let me get that blood out of you.” Her face turns from hard to soft when she winks at me and gives me a genuine smile. Something about her is calming. She takes a dip stick and sets it in the cup of pee. She looks at me and says, “This will take a few minutes.” There is a disgusting feeling in the pit of my stomach and all I can think about is Lyrics. If I show positive for something, that means that there’s a large chance that I gave it to her, and I’d never forgive myself. The nurse steps back into the office and pulls the stick out of the pee. She looks at it and says, “Good news, everything is negative. Now we’ll draw your blood and send it to the lab to double check and accurately test for a few other things.” A breath of relief comes out of me. She answers my question before I can ask it. “They’ll call you in two days with the results.”
I smile and say, “Thank you.”
She nods and says, “I really like the new haircut; makes you look distinguished.” As she leaves, I feel my hair and totally that I forgot all about it.
I text Lyrics and let her know what the results were. Of course, she texts back right away. She offers to let my Mom know and I take her up on it. Not thrilled with my Mom for calling the doctor, but I know she did it out of love. I tell Lyrics that I’m going to the bar.
She says, “Want me to meet you there?”
Really, I want to be alone. I text, “If you want.”
She texts back, “Be safe.”
I’m an asshole.
Chapter 8
‘I’m losing you, I’m losing me.’
Lyrics –
Who is this asshole? I pace back and forth in my apartment, pissed off, irritated as all get up. This engagement ring feels like it weighs one thousand pounds on my finger. It’s as if I can feel him slipping away from me, from himself, and there is nothing I can do. Tanner has never treated me with disrespect or as a second thought. When we were eighteen years old, he went out on a date with this girl named Cindy. I was home writing, of course. While I was in the middle of my new song, I found myself unable to think of the next verse. I sent Tanner a text with a picture of what I had so far and told him that I was sorry for interrupting his date.
He sent me a text back that read, “Don’t apologize, you are never an interruption. I’ll be there in an hour.”
I replied, “You don’t need to end your date.”
He texted back, “Seriously, I’ve almost fallen asleep three times already. See you in fifty-six minutes.”
I remember feeling a sense of relief that he was ending his date. Cindy had a reputation for being easy, which kept my stomach in knots the whole time he was with her. We stayed up until three a.m. finishing and singing that song. To this day, it is still one of my favorites.
Not knowing what Tanner is doing at the bar is driving me crazy. It’s different now. I am not just his best friend, I am his fucking fiancé. Lord knows he has no issues with girls flocking to him. My mind is racing in a million directions and my stomach is tied up in knots. The feeling of revenge creeps up my body like a wave of hot lava. I sit on my couch and flip open my laptop. On Google I type, “Jennifer Temple today.” There are a gaggle of pictures that pop up. There she is, looking like the complete cuntbag she is. Happy as can be, in England, smiling for the camera as if she has no worries. The sight of her makes me nauseous. Does she think that she isn’t going to pay for what she did? She’s gonna pay and payback begins now.
It’s beyond me why Tanner doesn’t want to file charges but I’m not going to let this evil bitch get away with it for one more second. I pull up my twitter account and without so much as a second thought, I tweet, “When the truth comes out, #JenniferTemple, you’ll wish you were dead.” I tweet again, “#JenniferTemple, you think I was redneck in Germany? You’re fixin to see my true redneck come out soon #rapist” And again, “#JenniferTemple, turn yourself in to the #usapolice now. You are safer in prison, I promise! See you soon.” Holy shit! I know I am wrong for tweeting this, but I can’t just sit by and watch her go on with her life as if she didn’t skip a beat. Because of her, I’m not only losing Tanner but I’m losing myself. Right now, I don’t even recognize Tanner and marrying him like this…hell no.
Fighting off the urge to text Tanner has been a struggle. It’s one o’clock in the morning and I am worried sick. This bitch has some serious fans out there. I’ve received tweet after tweet with threats and accusations of being the jealous ex. Some of the lovely fans have tweeted, “Don’t be jealous!” “Stop lying to yourself; she doesn’t have to rape a man,” These absolutely infuriate me. Her
fans sure did tweet me, but she, of course doesn’t have the sack to reply. I turn off my notifications and toss my phone on the couch. I know I messed up by tweeting, I just pray Tanner somehow doesn’t catch wind of it. The thought of erasing the tweets entered my head as soon as I pushed send but for whatever stupid reason, I didn’t remove them. I pull up my account and delete the tweets. She’ll get what’s coming but not this way. Can’t believe I stooped so low. Who the fuck am I?
I check my phone for the hundredth time and still no missed calls, no texts, and no sign of Tanner. It’s now three o’clock in the fucking morning and no goddamn sign. The knot in my stomach is growing bigger as throwing up seems a possibility soon. Enough of this bullshit.
I send him a text, “I’m worried about you, are you okay?” I grab my keys and my phone and decide to walk to his apartment to see if he’s there. I’d be lying if the thought of walking in and finding him tangled up with some skanky girl hasn’t crossed my mind a hundred times just in this short walk. My fingers are shaking as I insert the key. I step inside and it’s complete darkness. I almost tip toe towards his bedroom. Why I’m not sure, but that’s how I’m walking. A sigh of both fear and relief exhale from my mouth when I see that he is not here. I check my phone and no reply. My thoughts are out of control now and I can’t recall even one time that I have been more upset with him or anybody for that matter. I lock his door and head back to my apartment. As I reach for the door knob, out of the corner of my eye, I see a dark figure sitting on a bench by the barbeque area, diagonally from my apartment. It’s dark and cold outside, but something is pulling me to believe that the figure is Tan. I get closer and notice that the man has short hair. My shoulders drop and my stomach grows tighter as I turn around.
My heart stops and my feet cease to move when I hear his voice, “Don’t leave me Lyrics, please.” Slowly I turn around and the only thing familiar is his voice. I sit down next to him and the scent of whiskey permeates the air.
“Where have you been?” I ask him as tears sting my eyes. He just shrugs and shakes his head. Anger rises in me and I grit my teeth as I spew, “I am your fucking fiancé, Tanner. I deserve to know where you have been all night long. I’ve been worried to death about you. I mean, I didn’t know if you were dead on the side of the road, if you decided to split and leave town…”
He says with a cracked voice, “I’m not the person I was before. Dylan, I don’t know who I am, but I fucking hate this guy.” No words come out of my mouth. The silence is loud and the tension is thick. Tanner turns his body to face me and says, “You will always be my best friend, Lyrics. This person I’ve become is no good for you and I can’t live with myself if I hurt you anymore.” Tears are falling from both of our eyes now. The words get stuck in my throat because he is all I’ve ever known, the only man I’ve ever loved.
“What are you saying Tanner? You don’t want to be with me anymore?”
He quickly says, “No, that’s not it. You are the only girl I’ve ever loved, the only one. I don’t want to be here hurting you and I don’t know how to stop it. I don’t want to fucking be around anybody anymore. All the questions, the looks of pity…Fuck! You have no idea what being drugged and beaten felt like. Not being able to push her off me, frozen and forced to watch her get off on my paralyzed body. Those fucking gorillas were filming and taking pictures, and I didn’t know if their plan included killing me or not. All that kept running through my head was imagining your face when you opened the package and found those pictures. And tonight, I sat in the parking lot two buildings down, convincing myself why I shouldn’t drive away and end the pain for you.”
I don’t know what to say or think, I can only sit here blank. The mere thought of living without Tanner isn’t even imaginable for me. I place my hand on his and his heat sends a wave of electricity through me. I whisper, “Let’s go inside, it’s freezing.”
Chapter 9
‘If I don’t know me anymore, how the hell could you?’
Tanner –
The days fly by and I feel as if I’m just getting through them. My brother and his family have been at my parent’s house for almost one week and we haven’t driven up to see them yet. It’s December 23rd and Lyrics and I have barely spoken for the past week. I’ve found an excuse to get out each day without her, and the shitty part is that she stopped questioning me about it. The pain she wears on her face kills me. We haven’t had sex in almost two weeks, which is pissing her off more than me. I want to touch her and make love to her but when we get close, I pull away, almost as if I’m trying to push her away from me, make her see that I am no longer good for her.
When I got home tonight, she was already in bed. Its 2 a.m., so I guess it makes sense for her to be asleep. As I crawl into bed, her engagement ring is staring at me. I move her hand but the ring still catches my eye. I can’t help but feel like a fraud. I’m not the same man I was then. More than anything else, I want to be that same man, the one who could conquer the world, the one that knew there was nobody better for Lyrics than me. Now, what can I offer her? All I think about is revenge, it consumes me. What kind of life will that be for her? The thing is that I know she will never leave me. This woman will go through hell and back and remain by my side, my biggest advocate. What kind of man would I be to let her though? Hell, what kind of friend would I be? If she was with somebody else and he treated her this way, I’d make sure she left him.
Lying in bed staring into the nothingness that the ceiling offers allows my thoughts to run rampant. My thoughts keep circling back to leaving without notice. Getting in my car and heading far away without anybody knowing where I’ll be. I shake it off because it is selfish and unrealistic, but to me, now…it sure sounds like the right thing for me.
I can’t fall asleep. I grab Lyric’s song book and a couple of pencils and head out to the couch. As soon as my pencil hit the paper, the words began to flow. Before I know it, two hours pass by. It’s four in the morning and this song is complete. Tears fall down my cheek as I read the song. It’s my good-bye song. I didn’t set out to write this song, but here it is, and it says I am leaving. I wipe my tears with my sleeve and quietly tear the paper out of her notebook and fold it up small enough to put in my pocket. Sadness and relief fill my emotions. I think I’m really leaving. Leaving not only my best friend, but leaving everything behind. Aside from the Gap gig, Lyrics and I have not been apart for more than one week at a time since we met. I don’t even know me anymore, how can I expect her to know me? I know what I should do. It’s finding the balls to do it that I’ll struggle with.
In my head, I create a plan for my getaway. We are going to Beaumont tomorrow for Christmas Eve with the family, and if I leave while we are there, I know she will have Mom there for her. These crazy thoughts are too much. I can’t imagine being without Lyrics forever, leaving her with a “Dear John.”
Soft kisses on my cheek wake me up. Guess I fell asleep out here last night.
Lyrics says, “You fell asleep out here again.” I nod with a shitty smile. She’s trying hard to be perky, and I am all too aware that she is livid. She asks, “Do you have everything ready for Beaumont?”
I shrug my shoulders and say, “Yup, everything but earplugs.”
“They love you, Tan, I’m sure they aren’t going to load you down with an interrogation.”
I smile and say, “Then I have everything I’ll need.” I can feel my heart thumping so fast and strong as I reach into my pocket and feel the folded-up song. It dawns on me that Tyler’s band, Ménage, is playing a gig tonight and that he is probably at the bar rehearsing. Not sure why, but I feel like I need to go and talk to him. I tell Lyrics that I’m going to the gas station for a breakfast taco and a coffee.
She shrugs and says, “I’d like to leave around 1 p.m. so we get there by four or five. Don’t get lost please.” Her sarcasm makes me laugh but as I walk out the door, it becomes hard for me to control my breathing. I know I am leaving soon.
I pull
up to the bar and see Tyler’s car in the lot. I sit in my truck for a few minutes and think about what the hell I’m doing here. As I hop out of my truck, this feeling of righteousness swirls through my body. The right thing to do is leave and give Lyrics a real chance at happiness and love. Leaving is selfless not selfish. I repeat this over and over in my mind. I’m not doing it for me, it’s all for her, for Dylan…my Lyrics.
I look at the time and its 11 a.m. The drums are loud enough for me to hear from the parking lot. Man, I love being on that stage singing Lyric’s songs, our songs. I take a deep breath and walk inside. Tyler gets up from the stage as if he’d been waiting for me.
He meets me at the bar and asks, “What’s up Tanner? What do you want?”
“I love her, man. I’d never done anything to hurt her, ever. I don’t know why I’m here…I guess to tell you that I’m sorry for being a dick and to ask you a favor.” Tyler looks at me like I have some wicked nerve.
“What do you want?”
I wipe the tears from my eyes as I look up at him. “Take care of her. You’re a good man, I’ve always known that. Please take care of her for me.”
I stand up to leave and he says, “She won’t let you go, Tanner. I’ve never seen somebody so in love before. Believe me, dude, I’ve tried hard but my efforts would have been better spent on a brick wall. No man on this earth stands a chance with Dylan but you.”
My heart shatters as I say, “She won’t have a choice.”
Tyler shakes his head and says angrily, “I’d have given anything for her to look at me the way she looks at you.”
“You have my blessing. Make her look at you that way. Love her the way she deserves to be loved. I gotta go.”
Tyler yells as I’m leaving, “You’re fucking up, man. It doesn’t get better than Dylan.”
My eyes close and my heart fucking breaks. Those words are too true to for me to process right now. I know I’m fucking up. I’m so fucked up right now it’s ridiculous. Get better than her, never. It’s me; she can do better than me and I can’t marry her knowing that!
Soul-O (Music & Lyrics #2) Page 4