Preservation

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Preservation Page 9

by Rachael Wade


  “You ran him off?”

  “Save your lectures, Carter. I’d like to get back to my novel, if you don’t mind.”

  “Damn it, Kate. I was just starting to like the guy. He hasn’t left your side since your mom passed. I think he really cares about—”

  “I said save it. You don’t know what he cares about.”

  “Well maybe if you’d talk to me about it, fill me in a little. But I guess that’s too much to ask from your best friend.” He slammed the door and I heard him mumble something to Dean and Crystal.

  What was Carter’s deal, anyway? He was anti-Ryan from day one and now all of a sudden he was rooting for him? Whatever. I did what I needed to do. Propping my back up against the headboard, I swung the laptop over my knees and buried myself in my writing, dreading class the next day.

  ***

  The damp, fall air chilled me to the bone as I made my way to Ryan’s class. Out of all the weeks that’d passed since my mom died, I’d only missed two classes, although my grades had taken a significant hit even when I’d actually attended. Thanksgiving was Thursday and then the semester would be wrapped up by early December. Only a few more weeks to earn some higher scores to pull up my grades before finals.

  My stomach bunched up into tight knots when I approached the classroom; I felt completely exhausted when scenes from the past weekend flashed through my mind. Carter had backed off about Ryan, and Dean had remained tight-lipped about the whole thing, barely mentioning Ryan’s name.

  And as for Ryan, he barely acknowledged my presence when I stepped into class. His face was stone, expression distant. My eyes shot downward, instantly feeling a bit hurt when he didn’t say hello or even nod. Hello, what did you expect?

  I told my inner monologue to mind her own business and cracked open my textbook and laptop to get ready for the lecture. Ryan launched into his lesson and was interrupted only a few seconds in when the front door cracked open. In strode Alisha in tall, deadly, yet undeniably sexy heels and a long, thin pencil skirt with a frilly white blouse. My eyes widened at the sight and I sank down into my seat, keeping my face hidden behind my laptop screen. What the hell is she doing here? Is she insane? Coming to argue with Ryan in the middle of his class? She has to know she can be kicked off campus for something like this.

  Ryan turned from the dry-erase board where he’d been writing and much to my amazement, didn’t look surprised. In fact, he looked expectant. Bored, but expectant. I watched their exchange curiously as she discreetly slipped him some paperwork and whispered something in his ear, a soft smile painting her face. No arguing this time, I guess. He nodded to thank her and she turned to leave. When she did, a small, silver plaque jumped out at me. It was fastened to the right side of her chest. A name tag. She works here? How did I ever miss that?

  I found myself distracted for the rest of class with this new piece of information. Ryan handed us papers we’d written a few weeks ago, tapping mine gently when he placed it in front of me. His soft fingertips grazed my hand when I reached for it and I reflexively peered up at him. His eyes met mine for a brief second but I broke the contact, suddenly overwhelmed with how much I missed him. He cleared his throat and moved to the back of the room to continue his task.

  That night at the pool, everything felt off. It was dead quiet that time of night as it had always been, but the silence felt thick and heavy. Unavoidable. I poured every ounce of energy I had into my laps, focusing extra hard on the technique and form Ryan had shown me. I did a few more laps and then sank down to hold myself underwater when I reached the wall, wanting to feel the weightlessness of my body, the cool water glide over my skin, the peace that came with being submerged in quiet beauty. I wanted to feel something. Anything but my regret.

  Like clockwork, Ryan showed up at his usual time, just as I was packing up to leave.

  “Ms. Parker.” He nodded civilly, stripping down to his swim trunks.

  “Ryan.” My voice was a heavy plead, aware I never gave him the chance to explain himself. It was only fair. “I’m sorry for the way I handled things yesterday.” I towel-dried my hair and watched him sink into the water, flinching when he felt the temperature.

  “It’s okay, Kate. I understand. Water under the bridge.”

  “Really? That’s all you have to say? Because I didn’t let you finish—”

  “There’s nothing else to say. You’ve made yourself clear enough, I don’t think I have much of a say in the matter.”

  “I’m giving you a say. Right now. Wait a minute.” I tossed my towel on the chair and walked to the pool ledge to stare down at him. “What happened to ‘you won’t give up that easily’? Was I right about you, then? Was I just like the others you screwed around with?”

  “You know you weren’t—aren’t. I’ve already tried telling you that. But you seem intent on hearing what you want to hear.” He stiffened and began to stretch. “I’m very sorry for all you’ve been through with your mom. I really do wish you the best with everything. With finals, too. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  And that was it. That’s all he was going to say. He turned his back to me and positioned himself, his face expressionless.

  “So whatever you felt for me, you’re just going to turn it off like a switch, is that it?”

  “Are we done here?” Alisha’s voice came from behind me. I had to stop my jaw from dropping. I swung around and burned her with my glare, storming around her to pick up my backpack.

  “Yeah. We’re done.”

  “What are you doing here, Alisha?” Ryan asked, irritated.

  “Why won’t you return my calls? I thought you let her down easy, Ry. What the hell was that about?” Her bitchy response launched them into a scuffle and I burst through the locker room doors, furious.

  I was right about him. So was Carter. Clearly, I had been a complete and total fool to have fallen for any of his shit. He was still seeing Alisha. Either that or he wasted no time getting back together with her. Just yesterday morning, I was wrapped in his warm, protective arms, and today, tossed out like trash.

  I skipped my shower and decided to clean up at home, jogging to the Light Rail station. I couldn’t get there fast enough.

  ***

  Thanksgiving was quiet and lonely, although I had an invitation to eat with Carter and his family. I politely declined, opting for solitude in my tiny apartment. Plus I decided to keep my run in with Ryan and Alisha secret from Carter. The last thing I wanted was for Dean or Carter to pummel his ass, although the thought was mildly amusing. “If he ever hurts you...” Carter’s words hovered over me like a big gray cloud.

  So it was just me and my shabby, fake Christmas tree. I decorated it with all of the ornaments I’d saved from my childhood, which represented some of my happiest moments with my parents before everything went to hell. The little tree sat atop my end table in front of the window, lit with a warm, artificial glow that gave me an odd sort of comfort. My first Thanksgiving without Mom. I tapped at one of the round ornaments, spun it with my fingertips. I finished my Thanksgiving microwave meal and then snuggled up on the couch to open my laptop, letting my novel engulf me in its therapeutic world.

  By the weekend, I’d been very aware of my nearly empty bank account, cringing when I checked my balance. The days of work I’d missed after my mother’s death had finally caught up with me, the bereavement pay only covering some of the time I’d missed. Rent was due the first of December and I also owed the second half of my tuition for January classes. Reality flooded me, rushing over my hopes with a strong surge. There was no way school was happening next semester. Not if I expected to keep a roof over my head and food on the table for the next month.

  When Monday’s class rolled around, the realization struck that I would only see Ryan two more times before he’d be officially out of my life. The thought was depressing. I desperately needed to go out and have some fun. After the week I’d spent hibernating and last Monday’s run-in with Ryan and Alisha at the pool, I w
as craving it hardcore. I’ll have to talk to Carter about that at lunch.

  At least the confirmation that Ryan was a total lying dick helped propel me to move forward and leave him behind. Missing him wasn’t an option anymore, no matter how much I pined for his arms, his scent, or the great conversations and laughs we’d shared. How could I have been so wrong about him? My instincts were usually dead on. If there was anything I’d picked up from raising myself from a very young age, it was an instinctual radar for people who were out to hurt me or who were inherently no good.

  I sighed and reached into my book bag to pull out the folder containing the paper Ryan returned to me last week. I had never looked at it, didn’t even bother checking my grade. I opened up the folder as his smooth, passionate voice filled the classroom, and a quiet gasp escaped my lips when I read his notation. He’d given me an “A,” and next to it, he’d written:

  Submit this to the literary magazine that accepted your other work for publication. They’ll love this one, too. It’s transcendent and nothing short of phenomenal.

  Your biggest fan,

  Ryan

  I lifted my chin to watch him speak, my heart sinking a little deeper into my gut. Why did he have to be sweet and disloyal, all wrapped up into one big frustrating dichotomy? The day he’d given this paper back to me was the same day he’d given me the cold shoulder at the pool. I didn’t get it.

  Class ended and I booked it to the door, slipping out into the hallway to meet Carter.

  “Why hello there, love. Still avoiding him?” He took my arm in his, exchanging a quick nod with Ryan through the doorway.

  “Will you stop that? You can’t be Team Ryan now. It’s wrong.”

  “I can be on whatever team I want, thank you very much. Since you never told me specifics about what he did to make you kick him to the curb in the first place, and because you won’t talk to me about what happened with those girls at the club that night, I reserve the right to be unbiased until further notice.”

  “Fine.” We rounded the corner to head into the lunchroom. “It turns out you were right about him. He’s no good.”

  “Define ‘no good.’”

  “I was no different than the other students he messed around with. He admitted to me that he told them all the same thing, that he wouldn’t pursue them unless they dropped his class.”

  “But you were different, Kate. He told you this and you’re punishing him still. Keeping him at a distance. What you do best.”

  “Different? How? And just because he told me I was, what, I’m supposed to buy it? You stormed out on me when I decided to give him a chance, remember? I don’t need all this drama, Carter. That’s why I keep shit like this at a distance.”

  Carter stepped around me in the lunch line, intent on picking up the greasiest slice of pizza he could get his hands on, while I stood still in disbelief that he was still siding with Ryan.

  “Kate, it pains me to say this because I’m hopelessly in love with you and all—but it has to be said. The guy is crazy about you. And...he’s not half bad. You were right for having faith in him. I was the one who judged him according to nothing but rumors. But you shut him down the minute you had reason to doubt.”

  Steam must have been coming out of my ears at that point, because I could feel my insides ready to explode. I shoved a slice of pizza on my tray and nudged him forward with my hip. “This is all beside the point, anyway.” I huffed and handed the cashier the money, watching my last few dollars pass from my hand to hers with unease. “I didn’t tell you that I ran into him at the pool last week. With Alisha. She was meeting him.”

  “What?” His eyes popped out of his head.

  “Yeah. Exactly,” I gave him my very best I-told-you-so look. “I’m talking the day after he got back from Portland, the day after I broke up with him. Apparently she works here, too, which I somehow missed...”

  “There must be some explanation,” Carter shook his head adamantly, lifting his tray to stroll toward our favorite table. “He wouldn’t do that to you. I talked to him over the weekend and he told me all about...” His eyes became distant as he stumbled off into thought.

  “All about what? You talked to him this weekend?”

  “Yeah, well, he’s just been asking about you, that’s all. He’s concerned about you...knew last week was your first Thanksgiving without your mom. When I told him you chose to stay home by yourself he sounded crushed.”

  “You told him what?” My voice dropped to a low, deadly tone. Oh, yeah. The steam was there. And it was searing my ears off.

  “Chill, Kate. I spent a lot of time with the dude over those few weeks, you know. Just trying to stay on friendly terms with him.”

  “Screw friendly, Carter! Whatever. He wanted nothing to do with me last week when I ran into him. So this discussion is over.” I shot up from my seat and dumped my full tray of food. “I’ll see you later.” Making my way to my next class early so I could sit and get some writing done, I spotted Ryan eating alone outside in the cold. He froze mid-bite when he noticed me passing by.

  “Kate,” his voice was barely a whisper. He slowly stood from the picnic table, his knees half bent in uncertainty. I breezed right past him and didn’t bother glancing over my shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said, right before I dashed through the doors of the science building.

  Sorry. I was, too. For ever letting my guard down.

  11. RECESS

  Mrs. Meyer’s writing workshop was great for getting my mind off of rent, the tuition money I didn’t have for spring classes, and my traitorous best friend. I felt bad for storming out on Carter at lunch earlier, but I couldn’t grasp his reasoning, no matter how well he got to know Ryan. It just didn’t make any sense. I wouldn’t deny I had trust issues—clearly, I had a whole shitload of them. I knew I was damaged goods.

  But regardless of what my motives were or what factors contributed to my chaos, nothing changed the fact that I worked hard for that orderly mess. I fought tooth and nail to create a comfortable cocoon for myself and I’d be damned if I was going to let some young, hotshot prick come along and screw it up for me.

  Scratch that.

  An incredibly sexy prick who was an amazing lover, who turned out to have a great sense of humor, and who cherished good writing and music like it was air to breathe.

  Bloody hell.

  The sound of Mrs. Meyer stressing the need for proper pacing in a short story reeled me back into the present. And Carter kept bumping my elbow every time I started to scribble in my notebook, no doubt acting like a child to pay me back for my behavior earlier.

  “Excuse me, Kate?” Mrs. Meyer moved to the front of my desk and gave me some handouts. “I didn’t get a chance to copy these earlier. Would you mind running around the corner to make six of each so everyone has one to take home tonight?”

  “Sure, no problem.” I stood and clunked Carter on the back of the head with my pencil, then stuck it into my hair as I brushed past him and out the door.

  I ducked into the empty administrative lounge area around the corner, flipping on the light. It turned on with a soft flicker, a low hum filling the room from the copy and vending machines. Kind of creepy in here at night.

  Separating the handouts into piles, I began feeding the first page into the copy machine, jumping when I felt the door swing open behind me. It sent a swift breeze up my back and neck, causing goose bumps to spring up over my arms.

  “Kate?”

  I shuddered from the cold air that blew in through the door and swung around, red swarming my cheeks when Ryan stepped in. He shut the door behind him. The low hum of the machines stretched between us, closing the short distance with a pulsating energy.

  “Wh-what are you doing here?”

  “I have twenty more minutes until my last class. I teach one at night, remember? I wanted to grab a soda before.” A small grin twisted his lips and he brushed a hand over his jaw, letting himself fall backward to lean on the door. Oh dear God. That stubbl
e. Those eyes.

  “I know you teach a night class. I mean what are you doing here.” I leaned on the copy machine, gripping it for dear life. “A soda? Are you stalking me now?”

  “You didn’t give me a chance to talk to you today at lunch, you just walked right by.”

  “You didn’t give me a chance to talk to you at the pool last week.”

  “Well you cut me off at your place last Sunday without letting me speak my piece. You want to keep rattling off our track records for dodging one another? Because I’ve got all night, baby.” His eyebrows raised, he crossed his arms and stared me down with eyes that were warm pools of melting, caramel fire. Why, why, why, did his honey-brown hair have to sit so divinely disheveled?

  Shit, Kate. Pull it together.

  “You only have twenty minutes.”

  “I can cover a lot of ground in twenty minutes.” His lips twitched into a devilish curl, and I wanted to rush forward and smack that smug look right off his face. Then jump his bones. Not necessarily in that order.

  “I’m not in the mood for games, Ryan. I’m busy, if you don’t mind. I have to get back to my workshop.” I let out a deep, sharp breath and twisted around to feed the machine again, smashing buttons and doing God knows what. I was all flustered and shaky, unable to think straight. My stomach clenched and I lifted my chin when I heard the lock on the door click.

  I spun back around to deal with whatever ammunition he was ready to throw at me.

  Bring it, Mr. Campbell.

  Our eyes locked and something passed between us, a palpable electric current. That same current that raced around us the first night I’d gone out with him, the one that got me into trouble.

  “Ryan, unlock the damn door and get out.” I crossed my arms and cocked a brow, tilting my head to the side. “Fine, you want to speak your piece? I’d love to hear you talk your way out of the fact that you’ve been cheating on Alisha with me. Or how you managed to get back with her less than twenty-four hours after leaving my house that Sunday morning. Please, be my guest. I’m all ears.”

 

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