by Caisey Quinn
He sits up and reaches out for me, but it’s too late. I’m out of bed and standing in his gray t-shirt, barely feeling the sting as the tiny shards of glass Corin missed slice into the bottoms of my feet.
Dread washes over me, hard and cold. “How do you know what kind of medicine I’m taking?”
There’s only one way he can know. And if he knows about Topiramax, he probably knows about the latest test results. Which would explain exactly why he’d give up everything to be here. Since it’s temporary and all.
“I saw it on your nightstand,” he says.
I know he’s lying, but we both turn to the nightstand anyway. Corin’s giant alarm clock, the lamp, and the now thoroughly melted shake are all that sit there. “No you didn’t. Tell me how you know, Landen.”
“Babe,” he pleads but I don’t want to hear any more bullshit.
How many lies has he told me now? I’m shaking, but not the kind I’m used to. “Tell me the truth. All of it. Starting now.” The anger and pain vibrating my body are so intense it’s distracting. My mind struggles to grab a coherent thought as Landen sits up and pulls on his underwear. Followed by his jeans. He still doesn’t open his stupid mouth.
“Stop stalling.” My voice breaks on the last word because deep down I know I probably don’t want to hear what’s coming. What I really want is to forget this ever happened and go back to the heavenly bliss that was lying in his arms.
Safe. Still. Loved.
He moves to the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. He rakes both hands through his hair.
“Look at me,” I command, because I have the awful feeling that he’s trying to come up with yet another lie to tell me. If I were smart, I’d let him so we could go back. But it turns out that I’m actually very stupid.
His eyes meet mine as he raises his head. “When you wouldn’t answer my calls or texts, I started calling Kate.”
“Kate, as in, my Aunt Kate?” He doesn’t answer because it’s a pointless question.
“She’s the one who told me about you coming here. And about the new meds.”
I wring my hands and try to think back. How did I not know this? “So what you said about Cam and DW was a lie? You really knew where I was going because you were talking to my aunt?”
Behind my back, I silently add.
He nods and clears his throat. Wrapping my arms around myself, I lower myself onto Corin’s bed. “I asked you. I asked you point-blank what you were doing here.” My voice is low and raw but I make sure it doesn’t break.
“You did.”
“And you lied. Why?”
Landen rubs the back of his neck and tries to pin my eyes with his. I won’t even give him that. “Because I was afraid if you knew the truth, you’d send me away. I knew you’d be pissed that your aunt and I interfered with your fresh start. And I meant what I said Layla. I wanted a second fucking chance.”
“So you thought a good way to get a second chance was to lie?” My voice breaks despite my best efforts not to let it. “What else have you lied about?”
Danni? Loving me?
“Seriously, Layla? You’ve got to be shitting me. So what if I didn’t tell you how I knew you were here? So what if I kept up with you after I moved? I love you. I loved you then, too. Do you understand what that means?”
I’m not sure how to answer him so I just pull my knees up to my chest. “No. Tell me,” I say sarcastically.
“It means that when I left Hope Springs, that wasn’t the end for me. There’s never been an end for us, as far as I’m concerned. Love changes. Yeah, sure. It twists and grows, and maybe for some people it evolves into something different. But for me, all I feel for you has only gotten stronger. More intense and overpowering. I love you, dammit. I never had a choice when it came to that. Did I do some stupid shit because I was afraid you might not love me back? Hell yeah. But I’m a fuck up like my dad says. So what did you expect?” He leans forward, closer. Waiting for my answer.
“I expected you to be honest with me,” I say softly. But a nagging voice in the back of my mind wonders if he’s right. I can only imagine how I would’ve acted toward him if I’d known my aunt sent him here to babysit me. Damn manipulative lawyers. The way his entire presence darkens tells me it was the wrong response. I was supposed to tell him that he isn’t a fuck up, that his dad was wrong.
But it’s too late.
Eyes blazing, he turns to face me. Hurt and fear are contorting his beautiful features. “You’re one to talk. You don’t even tell your goddamn roommate that you could seize out and drop dead any minute. That you have an inoperable hematoma the size of a golf ball pressing on your brain, and if it ruptures, she won’t be able to call 911 fast enough.”
I choke back a sob because of that word. I hate that word. Hate it coming out of his mouth even more.
Inoperable.
Broken. Beyond repair. Unfixable.
But he’s right. And he knows. Of course he does. That’s the only reason he would give up everything to be with me. Guilt and pity for the poor little dying girl.
“Were you ever going to tell me?” he asks quietly, looking away finally so I can breathe.
“It’s no one else’s business,” I whisper.
But it’s a lie and we both know it. They’re a part of my life now. I’ve let them in. Made it their business.
“Bullshit.” His gaze hardens and I just want to be alone.
“Get out,” I say evenly.
“No.”
“I want you to leave, I mean it. And I don’t just mean this room.”
Landen recoils like I’ve shoved him with all my might even though I haven’t laid a finger on him. “What?”
“I want you to go on with your life, like you would be doing if you’d never met me. If my aunt hadn’t convinced you to come here and babysit me. Go play soccer in Ecuador, or wherever. Just go.”
“Jesus Christ, Layla. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Get out!” I scream, and Corin and Skylar be damn. I need him to get away before I lose it.
“Layla, what the fu—”
“Landen?” Skylar’s in the doorway looking tired and confused.
“Layla?” Corin appears behind him, and I feel instantly guilty.
This is why I don’t let people in. This is why I kept to myself—it was so much better that way. I hate the way everyone is looking at me. Their faces are the identical masks of shock and confusion and repulsion everyone wears when I come out of a seizure.
“We’re fine.” Landen glowers at them and our roommates disappear from the doorway. “Don’t do this. I know you’re mad and I get it, I do. I’m sorry. Just please—”
“Just please go.”
“Why?” His expression is so wounded that I almost crawl into his lap to comfort him.
But I don’t. “Because it hurts to be around you. It hurts knowing that you came here because of what’s wrong with me. What do you think you are? The one-man Make-A-Wish foundation? You’re not. I was fine before you. I don’t want you here.” My heart winces in pain at the lie. There’s no conviction left in my voice because the last part isn’t true.
I must be one hell of a liar because Landen stands up, and I can see his chest heaving from the deep breaths he’s taking. We’re ruining it. Or rather, I am. Just like I knew I would. But he shouldn’t have to waste his life waiting for me to die so he can finally move on.
“You don’t mean that,” he says quietly. But I can hear the doubt in his voice.
I want to ease his doubt. I want to tell him I need him and can’t stand the thought of being without him. But I don’t. Somehow, I don’t. “Yes I do.”
Even I’m surprised at the conviction of my words. But part of me doesn’t want him here. Part
of me wants to go back to going through the motions so I don’t have to constantly ache at the thought of not getting a long, happy life with him. With anyone. A small outdoor wedding in Georgia after graduation, a kid of our own, or two or three. A future. I didn’t want one after my parents died. Until Landen. And knowing I won’t have one is killing me. As is the hematoma on my brain. Maybe even more so.
But I won’t take away his future, too. I won’t leave him mourning me for the rest of his life, like the man who murdered my parents did to me. He deserves better than that. He deserves a healthy girlfriend, one he can make plans of a future with, plans that might actually happen. I never should have let things go this far.
“I’m going,” he says quietly. “But just to my dorm. And just for tonight. You can push me away all you want, Layla, but I won’t go without a fight.”
“Then you’re as selfish as your dad says you are.”
Oh God. The look on his face stabs me so deep I can’t move. What the hell is wrong with me? I just wanted him to leave. I didn’t mean to break him. “Landen, I didn’t mean—”
“No, you’re right. I forced myself into your life before, and here I am doing it again.” He punches the door on his way out and I flinch at the sound. But then he turns back to check that I’m okay, and seeing his pain makes me want to run into his arms and apologize a hundred times.
“I’m fine,” I say, sounding overly defiant. Maybe because I know I’m not.
“For the record, I didn’t come here just because of what your EKG said. Or even because you think you’re going to die any minute. We’re all dying. We could all die any minute now. I could get hit by a bus on my way back to the dorm.”
“Don’t say that,” I whisper.
“Why not? It’s true. I came back because I need you. And I thought you needed me. But I can see now that you don’t, and that I was being stupid. And selfish, just like you said. Guess I should’ve been listening to the Colonel all along.”
He snorts out a sarcastic breath and steps out of the room. “Let’s go,” I hear him say to Skylar just before the door to our room slams shut.
“She knows,” I tell Layla’s Aunt Kate’s voicemail. “And she’s pissed. And hurt.” I almost add, “And she hates me like I said she would,” but it’s not like this is all her fault. I came willingly. I lied when given multiple opportunities to be honest. I’m the one who fucked up the most.
Naturally.
I don’t say anything else, because what is there to say? That Layla wants me out of her life because I’m a lying piece of shit? That I deserve it because I fucked her, knowing we should’ve told each other everything first? That I should have let her decide if she really wanted me before taking it to that level?
What’s the point in telling her all of that? It won’t change anything.
After pounding myself into the concrete during the mind-numbing eight-mile run I took after practice, I shower and lie on my bed. There has to be a way to fix this. A way to make her see that I did what I did because I want her so badly. Because I love her more than I even knew I was capable of. I love my mom, yeah. Who doesn’t? But how many times did she turn her back while the Colonel shouted about what a pathetic waste of human life I am? How many times did she keep quiet when he punched me, shoved me against the wall, or flat-out told me I’m nothing?
So many I lost count, that’s how many.
Somehow, with her quiet intensity, her strength for dealing with all the shit life threw at her, Layla came out better. Stronger. Seeing her deal with her loss and her seizures made me realize I couldn’t let the way my dad was rule my life. I wanted to be better than that. Better for her.
And now I’m right back in the hell that is life without Layla.
“Dude? You coming?” Skylar pokes his head into the dark room.
“No, I’m not.” The bus is leaving for our game in Washington in less than an hour.
“Uh, I don’t exactly think it’s optional.” I can feel his disgust that I’m acting like such a pussy but I couldn’t care less. I’m used to disappointing people.
“I’m a walk-on. They can fuck themselves.”
He pauses, hovering in the doorway. “All right, man. I’ll tell coach you’re sick or something.”
“Whatever.”
He shuts the door and leaves me alone in the darkness.
Two weeks go by, and Layla leaves me in silence. I’ve gone to Intro to Academics every day only to find Corin there, telling me to be patient and give her some space. I’ve been escorted out of Campbell Hall by her RA twice, and her voice mailbox is so full that no one else can leave a message now.
I’m out of ideas.
I’ve been running so much and working out so hard that I’ve outscored Taite at every practice. I’ve started over him in our last two games, even though I refuse to go to away games. I’m not leaving her, no matter what. Even Taite’s gorilla, Blackburn, has backed off. The whole team, and probably the coaches too, know I’m losing my shit a little. And no one wants to be responsible for me flying off the damn hinges.
After team workouts, the trainer removes the stitches from my arm. It will scar, he says. No shit. I’m scarred, all right. Marked with physical evidence of the permanent damage losing Layla Flaherty has left on my life. I stay in the weight room after the trainer leaves and decide to max out on every damn machine in there. Physical pain tends to be the only thing to take my mind off the other kind.
“Killing yourself won’t make her want you back,” Skylar says from behind me.
I almost drop the damn weight I’m holding. “I thought I was alone.”
“You will be if you don’t get your shit together.”
I snort. “Worry about your own shit, Martin. Isn’t that what you always tell me to do?”
Skylar comes around to stand in front of me. Bad idea, dude. All this hurt is pissing me off and I don’t know what to do with it. I kind of wish Blackburn would get all up in my face so I could let loose on him.
I am my father’s son, after all.
“I would. But your shit’s affecting my shit. Fuck, I shouldn’t call her shit.” Skylar rubs the back of his neck as I put my weights down. I slow my breathing so I can listen to the rest of what he’s saying. “Corin’s upset. More than upset. Layla’s barely even speaking. Cor said she goes to class, she smiles like a goddamn robot, and then she just sleeps all the time.”
I hurt her. Again. “Cor needs to get a fucking life of her own. Or wait, she doesn’t have a fucking life, does she?”
It was the wrong thing to say on so many levels, and I know it. Skylar’s in my face so fast I barely have time to blink. “I’m gonna give you a pass this once, because I know you’re dealing with a…whatever the hell it is your dealing with. But I won’t comment about your freaky chick and you don’t comment about mine.”
If he’d called her anything other than “freaky,” I would’ve been okay. Memories of them treating her like a leper in high school slam into me almost as fast as my fist slams into Skylar’s face.
He bull-rushes me and something falls, clanking loud and hard. Somewhere in my mind it registers that a weight room is not the best place to get into a brawl. Too late now.
“Goddammit, O’Brien,” he huffs as I sink my fist into his stomach.
We’re rolling over top of one another when I hear the door open and a herd of footsteps pounding towards us.
Hands clutch me and pull me off of Skylar. Half the team watches as we face off with Coach Wicks between us.
“What the hell happened here?” Coach asks, looking back and forth between us.
“My fault, Coach,” I say, because it’s true.
“Girl problems,” Skylar mumbles, looking away.
Coach probably thinks we’re fucking the same one now, but I don’t g
ive a shit what anyone thinks. I need to go for a run. A long one. “Won’t happen again,” I say, feeling guilty because Skylar didn’t deserve that and I know it.
“You’re damn right it won’t. O’Brien, you’re off the team. Get your shit and go. Martin, get your ass in my office, now.”
You’re nothing and you’ll never amount to a damn thing. How can any son of mine be such a goddamn waste? Oh fuck, are you going to cry? Get out of my sight. Go cry to your mommy.
“Yes, sir.”
The Colonel’s voice carries on in my head as I leave. It’s still reminding me of what I already know about myself as I head upstairs and start packing my things in the dorm. Skylar comes in at some point and says something but I have no idea what. So I ignore him.
“Where are you going?” he asks as I carry my shit out.
It takes me a second to realize it’s Skylar talking now and not my dad. Thank God I have my truck back. “What?”
“I asked where you were going, dude. It’s not like you have to vacate the dorms tonight. Being off the team doesn’t mean you have to leave school.” He cocks his head towards my bag, and I know I should apologize. I just can’t get the words to my mouth.
“It does for me. Back to Colorado, I guess. Till I figure something else out.”
But first I’m going to go see Layla. Try one more time to say goodbye so we don’t leave it like this.
“Shit, Landen, I’m sorry. Seriously. Why don’t you stay at my friend’s loft tonight? He’s still out of town. Sleep on it. Then maybe we can go talk to Coach tomorrow together and work something out.”
“Naw, no worries. It was probably time to go anyways. Shouldn’t have come here to begin with.” So I wouldn’t have hurt her like I did. Fucked up like I knew I would.
“Dude, seriously. Here’s the key to my friend’s place. It’s on 16th and Lane, above the pizza place. Unit D.” He slides the key into my hand. I take it even though I don’t want to use it. I don’t deserve his kindness. Or anyone’s. “Just go and get some rest and we’ll grab some food in the morning or something.”