Let Love Heal l-3

by Melissa Collins

  * * *

  After we’ve all showered and dolled ourselves up, we’re ready to head to Jack’s at around nine. I just have to do one last thing before we leave. Bryan is supposed to be back on campus today, but of course, he hasn’t gotten in touch with me. I text him, because even though it hurts that he seems to be ignoring me, I have to check in with him.

  Me: Haven’t heard from you in a few days and I just wanted to see if you made it back okay.

  I’ve come not to expect an immediate response, so when my phone buzzes in my hand, it takes me by surprise.

  I’m really shocked to see that he’s calling and not texting. My hands are shaking as I slide the icon at the bottom of the screen to answer the call. Now, after a month of barely saying more than a few words to me, he wants to talk.

  I clear my throat before saying, “Hey, Bry.” I hate that my voice is shaking with emotion.

  My words are met with a deep, yet calming sigh. “God, I missed your voice, Melanie.” Bryan’s words cause me to melt. I sink down onto my bed and begin twirling my loosely curled hair in between my fingers.

  “I missed yours too. I feel like we haven’t talked in so long.” I work hard to push back the emotion I feel rising in my voice. I’m one sad, excited, anxious and uncertain ball of nerves.

  I hear him huff in exasperation before saying, “I know and I’m sorry for that.” I hear him shuffle some things around and sigh yet again. He clears his throat. “We need to talk. But I don’t want to do this over the phone. Can I come over?”

  All I can think of is some snippy remark along the lines, “Sure. Come on over and rip my heart out. No biggie.” But I bite back my sarcasm, because he doesn’t deserve it.

  Instead, I say, “Yeah. The girls are actually heading over to Jack’s for the night.” I don’t know if being here alone with him is a good idea or not, but I guess it’s better to just get everything out in the open sooner rather than later.

  “Okay, great. I’ll be there in about an hour.” Bryan’s words are suddenly chipper. Now I’m really confused. He’s excited to break up with me? I’ve already convinced myself that’s what his plan is. The bastard.

  I push back those thoughts as I make my way out to the living room where Peyton, Lia and Cammie are all not-so-patiently waiting for me.

  “Oh, well, look who’s ready to join us!” Lia chirps playfully as she swallows down the remainder of her pre-party drink. I just roll my eyes at her. Everyone thinks it’s just a cute personality quirk that I am always late. The truth is that I change more times than I can count before I find an outfit that I feel comfortable in. Not being comfortable in your own skin is a woman’s worst nightmare. Having to showcase that skin to a bunch of horny college guys is about as scary as that nightmare when you show up to class naked.

  But, yet again, rather than divulging that part of me, I just flip her off playfully and say, “You girls should know by now that I’m never on time for anything. Like ever.” Cool and unaffected, my words tumble out of my mouth keeping the insecure version of Melanie well hidden from their sights.

  Cammie stands from the couch and adjusts her black mini-skirt. Jack’s going to lose it when he sees her - in a good way, of course. “Let’s go, then!” Cammie smiles cheerfully as she walks to the door. I can tell she’s anxious to get to the party.

  Glancing over at Peyton, she looks a little unsure about everything. She definitely doesn’t look like the other girls who attend these parties. By that I mean that she isn’t dressed like she works on a street corner. Her black skinny jeans don’t leave much to the imagination and neither does her curve-hugging top, but she doesn’t look like a whore. Hell, who knows, maybe now that Reid isn’t there, the number of whorish partygoers will decrease dramatically and Peyton will fit right in.

  Just as they’re all grabbing their bags and heading for the door, I say, “I’m actually going to stay in tonight.” Lia shoots daggers and Peyton actually looks scared.

  Leave it to Cammie to actually be concerned. “Is everything okay?”

  Nodding my head to dismiss her misplaced worry, I say, “Yeah, everything is fine. Bryan just got back and he’s coming over. We haven’t seen each other all month so …” I leave that hanging out there, because honestly, I don’t know what we’re going to do tonight.

  My stomach roils at the mere thought of the fight that I know will ensue.

  “Someone’s getting laid!” Lia sings out from the door as she wraps her arm around Peyton’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. You can sleep in my room since Cammie’s going to be staying with Jack.” Peyton elbows Lia in the ribs and they share a laugh.

  I guess while I was talking to Bryan they made up from earlier. That makes me feel a little better for not going with Peyton tonight. I know I don’t owe her anything, but I feel like I’m letting her down by not going.

  Pulling their heavy winter jackets out from the front closet, Lia laughs at the bat tucked into the corner. “Not such a bad idea after all, huh, Mel.” She sticks her tongue out at me and laughs once more.

  “Very funny!” I quip back at her.

  Checking her phone, Cammie begins pushing everyone out the door. “Come on. Jack is downstairs waiting, and I don’t know about you ladies, but it is freaking cold as fuck out there and I’m not walking.” She hugs me on her way out and adds in a flirty tone, “Have a good night, Mel.” Before she closes the door, she winks at me and I can’t stifle the laughter that escapes my past my lips.

  After a few seconds, the genuine laughs morph into ones of nervousness as I look at my watch and realize Bryan should be here any minute.

  That sickening rolling I felt in my stomach yesterday when Mom was here returns, but this time, I can’t swallow it back. A nervous, panicking anxiety pulsates in my chest as I realize that I’m going to have to tell him about the cheating. A cold sweat breaks out on my brow and I race to the bathroom to empty the contents of my stomach into the toilet.

  I feel marginally lighter, purged in some way. In a moment of clarity – or deception, depending on how you look at it - I’ve decided that I’m not going to say anything about his text. If I don’t confront him about what he did, then I won’t have to confess to him about what I did. And, if I can just hold on to this feeling until Bryan leaves, maybe I won’t have to tell him, after all.

  6

  Saturday, October 13, 2012

  Past

  “Omigod omigod omigod!” I’m flapping my arms in front of my like a rabid chicken – that is if chickens even get rabies.

  “Will you just calm down, Mel. Everything will be fine,” Maddy dismisses my little panic attack.

  Sure! Everything will be fine! No big deal!

  It’s every day that you go to your hot boyfriend’s soccer game and then go to a party with all of his friends, who you’ve never met before.

  Oh and did I mention that his parents would be there too? Yeah, like that’s going to calm my anxiety.

  I know it shouldn’t be a big deal. I finally caved, and since we started dating, I’ve gone to a few of his games. It’s just that most of them have been during the week so I haven’t had to deal with the after party. And meeting his parents, yeah, that is definitely what has me all sorts of screwy right now.

  Maddy holds a turquoise, off-the-shoulder peasant top in front of her. “Wear this one. It will make your hair and your eyes pop.”

  Standing in front of the mirror and draping the pretty shirt this-way and that-way across my body, I scrunch my face and then toss it on the bed.

  “Okay.” She stretches out the word to emphasize her frustration with helping me get ready. “What about this purple one? This one is my favorite.”

  Pulling the purple shirt over my head, I play with the hem to make sure that it sits in just the right spot – hiding the curve of my waist, while still flattering the rest of my shape. I flop down onto my bed as I slide my black ballet flats on my feet. Sliding one leg under my body, I turn toward Maddy and sigh rather dramati
cally.

  “What if they hate me? I mean, I’ve never done this – met a guy’s parents before. What if I make an ass out of myself?” My shaking voice reflects my nervousness.

  “Well, then,” Maddy says as she pulls me up from the bed, and hands me my sunglasses and black bomber jacket, “at least you’ll look like a pretty ass.” She laughs and I can’t help but chuckle with her.

  “But seriously, Mel. You’ve been with Bryan for what, like a month now. He’s obviously into you, otherwise you wouldn’t be meeting his parents at all. I’m sure they’ll like you.” Maddy’s words boost my confidence a little.

  Standing in front of the mirror, I take stock of the girl reflected back to me. Usually I’m the one trying to convince Maddy to play Barbie. But today, my hands were shaking with such extreme anxiety that I couldn’t even do my own make-up. Silently nodding my approval, I have to say that Maddy didn’t do such a bad job. My hair looks wildly tame – a perfect combination of auburn curls, softly brushed and smoothed so I don’t look like Annie. Normally, I go for soft pink or peach on my eyes, but Maddy opts for a pale-green eye shadow and an eggplant liner, which, even though it’s something I never would have chosen, really do highlight my soft blue eyes.

  Adjusting the hem of my deep-purple shirt once more, and skimming my hands down the top of my dark-wash jeans, I ask “Are you sure this looks okay?”

  Holding my shoulders tightly in her hands and squeezing gently, she says, “Melanie, you look beautiful. But, more importantly, you are beautiful. Bryan is not going to care what clothes you wear. Hell, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He’d rather you weren’t wearing any clothes at all.” Maddy giggles suggestively as she wiggles her eyebrows at me.

  “Maddy!” I gasp and slap her playfully on the arm. “You really think that?” I add in a more curious tone.

  “Think what, Mel?”

  Instinctively, I reach for a strand of hair and twirl it around my finger. It’s a nervous habit. “Do you really think he thinks I’m pretty, I mean?” My voice is suddenly shy and timid.

  “Of course I do, Melanie.” Her soft green eyes are wide, but serious. Smiling brightly at me, she adds, “And I also think that he likes you because you’re funny and smart and kind and fun to be around. Now go to his game and have some fun. Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?”

  “I would love for you to go, but since it’s some kind of special Parent’s Weekend or something like that, he was only given two tickets. He actually had to bum one off of his teammate to get me in.” I shrug my shoulders trying to make it seem like no big deal that Maddy can’t go with me, but the reality is that I wish I had some kind of support. But instead, I reassure Maddy. “I’ll be okay. Like you said, they’ll love me.” I pucker my lips playfully and pop my hip in some kind of fashionista meets drag queen stance.

  “Oh my God! Whatever you do, don’t do that. Like ever again!” Maddy laughs hysterically at my antics before pulling me into a tight hug. “But seriously, Mel. You’ll be great. Just be yourself. I mean, you’re my favorite person, after all.” She smiles and winks at me and it’s impossible not to smile back at my best friend.

  As I walk down the hallway, I hear Maddy say, “Have fun!” in a rather cheery, sing-song voice.

  Uh huh, fun. Sure. Meeting my boyfriend’s parents for the first time while he’s all hot and sweaty playing in his final soccer game – sure, that sounds like a ton of fun.

  * * *

  The dorm is not all that far from the soccer field. But everything in Ithaca is uphill. You know that old saying about “when I was a kid, I walked to school uphill both ways?” Well, I’m pretty sure that originated in Ithaca.

  As I approach the entrance, I hand the ticket collector my ticket and walk through the gate. Bryan told me to sit in section ten, and that his mom would be wearing his jersey with the number 17 on the front. While part of my brain actually considers sitting anywhere but section ten, the other part tells me to just put on my big-girl panties and do the right thing.

  Big-girl panties, here we come!

  It doesn’t take me long to spot Bryan’s parents. They’re in the first row of the section, which is sparsely filled at this point. Taking a deep breath, I walk toward them and hope for the best. When I get to the end of the metal bleachers, Bryan’s mom stands and extends her hand to mine.

  “You must be Melanie.” Her huge smile is so genuine that I instinctively think of my own mom and how much I miss her. I should definitely call her.

  “Hi, Mrs. Mahoney. It’s so nice to finally meet you.” Shaking her hand, I smile happily and she returns the look. Unfortunately, I don’t get the same reception from Mr. Mahoney.

  He’s all too busy to stop tapping away at his BlackBerry lost in what must be an important message. When Mrs. Mahoney nudges his arm, he looks up from his phone, assesses me and then returns to whatever he was just typing.

  “You’ll have to excuse him, Melanie. Dan has been working a huge business deal these last few months and,” she cups her hand around the corner of her mouth as if doing so will keep him from hearing what she’s saying, “well, he’s just been a bit distracted, that’s all.”

  “I am not distracted, Jane.” Mr. Mahoney smiles, but there’s something off-putting in his eyes. Whatever it is, he recovers quickly from it, and extends his hand in front of him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Melanie.” His lips quirk up into what I can only describe as an odd smile toward Mrs. Mahoney.

  Okay, I’m not sure what to make of him, but it’s not like I can just come out and ask Bryan, “So, what’s up with your dad?”

  Besides, it’s not like I have much experience with dads in the first place. Maybe they’re all just that weird.

  Ignoring the weird vibe I’m getting from him, I choose to focus on the soft kindness twinkling in Mrs. Mahoney’s eyes. Setting my bag down next to my feet at the end of the aisle, I extend my hand to him, and say “It’s more than a pleasure to finally meet both of you, Mr. and Mrs. Mahoney.” I know I sound way too formal. But there’s something in the way that initial introduction went down that just rubbed me the wrong way.

  As if I wasn’t nervous already.

  “Oh, please, Melanie. None of that ‘Mr. and Mrs.’ call us Dan and Jane.” She sits in her seat and pats the bench to her side. I slide in next to her and cross my legs to keep them from bouncing wildly in nervousness.

  The rest of the game passes in casual conversation. Jane asks me the standard stuff: What’s my major? Where do I live? What are my parents like?

  My answers are standard as well. I’m still undecided and I live in the dorms. There isn’t much to tell. And, rather than get into that my dad is dead and that my mom never remarried and how that makes me feel guilty as hell, I just tell her that “my parents are great.” I know I can’t be sure about that as far as my dad is concerned, but if the memory that my mom holds of him is any indication, “great” is actually selling him short.

  Dan doesn’t say much of anything throughout the game. Occasionally, he looks up from his phone to watch his son get pummeled into the ground. He never happens to see a hard-won goal, or brain-jarring head-butt.

  By the end of the game, my throat is sore from the constant cheering and my hands are chapped from the non-stop clapping. Jane has been right alongside me the entire time. We’ve had a lot of fun talking and cheering for Bryan. I just wish I knew what the hell was up with his dad. I guess whatever business deal he’s working on must be really important because he even had to leave the stands a few times to take a few calls. Jane doesn’t seem to mind though, so I let it go.

  Watching Bryan score the winning goal is the shining moment of the day. As he turns the corner of the field, he expectantly looks up to the bleachers. I only hope that pride I feel for him shines through on my face. I’m in awe of his talents. Besides, watching his muscles strain under the clingy soccer jersey hasn’t been all too hard on my eyes for the last ninety minutes.

  Nope. Not bad
at all!

  After the game is over, there’s a brief trophy presentation and the team lines up for their last picture. Even though Ithaca is only a Division III school for sports, the athletic competition is still fierce. So is the bond that’s created between teammates. All of the guys are smiling and clapping each other on the back – congratulating everyone on a great season.

  All of the parents stand in a line, snapping their own photos as well. As usual, I stand in the background and try to go unnoticed.

  When the crowd clears, I make my way over to Bryan and his parents. But, rather than cheery smiles and happy conversation, I walk into a tension-laden atmosphere filled with jilted words.

  “Fine. Leave then.” Bryan’s curt words are laced with hurt.

  “Oh, honey. We don’t want to leave. It’s just that your father …” Jane’s voice is tenderly apologetic. I can tell that she really is sorry that she can’t stay for rest of the weekend.

  Dan stalks back over to Bryan and Jane as he slides his phone back into the front pocket of his khaki pants. “Sorry, son. But I have to get back. This can’t wait until Monday.” Dan may be saying that he’s sorry, but his face conveys anything but an apology.

  “Let’s go now, Jane. I was able to move the flight, but we have to be at the airport in an hour.” Dan is pulling Jane off the field as Bryan and I stumble behind them.

  “What happened, Bryan? I thought they were staying.”

  “Yeah, well, I guess other things are more important,” he mutters as we approach his parents’ car. When I lace my fingers with his, I can feel the tension radiating off his body. He squeezes my hand in return and looks down at me with sadness in his eyes.

  When we get to the car, Bryan releases my hand and gently brushes his lips against my temple. Opening the door for his mother, Bryan helps her into the car. The sweet kiss that he plants on her cheek suggests that he’s not mad at her. The glaring look he shoots at his father across the roof suggests that he’s more than angry with him. His father says nothing and just slides in to his seat.