Never Let Go

by C. M. Stunich

  “Is that normal?” I ask, exchanging another look with Ty. He doesn't seem very excited about this new bit of information.

  “It's fine,” she says, pushing past him and disappearing around the staircase and back into the living room. I pause there, holding my breath and watching as Ty's face goes through a multitude of emotions.

  “I can try to talk her into going to a doctor tomorrow,” I suggest and Ty nods, worrying at his lip ring with his tongue for a moment before responding.

  “Yeah, yeah, I would like that. Thank you.” He sighs and rubs his right hand down the arm of butterfly tattoos on his left side. “It's her body, and I can't force her to do anything, but I'm freaking the fuck out inside. All she ever did with Little Noah was throw up some. I don't know what to make of all this other stuff. I tried Googling it, but there's a thousand different things it could be.” Ty sighs again and shakes his head, pausing when a set of footsteps moves down the hallway towards us. He glances over his shoulder, grins, and then looks back at me. “I'll keep working my magic charms on her and see if I can get her to roll over.” Ty tosses me a wink. “Pun totally intended.” He raises a hand and moves back, allowing Noah to move into the room with bare feet and a soft smile. “Thanks for the help, Zella.”

  Ty stops to close the door behind him, making my stomach tight and my fingers curl around the binder as Noah stares at me and waits for an explanation.

  “I've been … playing it safe with you since you got back. I don't know why. I guess I just can't stop thinking about … last year.” Last year. Just another way of saying when we fucked. One of the two times he's ever slept with someone. Oh God. That makes me the experienced one here. Holy crap. So why does it still feel like he's the wiser of the two of us? “But that doesn't matter. I'm going to treat you the same way now as I did before that, when we used to ride our bikes to the lake and spend all day sitting in the grass reading. We didn't even talk most of the time, but I felt closer to you then than I do now.”

  “I'm not trying to distance myself from you, Noah. It's just … I thought it'd be easier to handle if I ignored you, and so I did. I managed to keep myself occupied for an entire year. But now, it's not so easy to ignore you, not when you're standing right in front of me.” I swallow as he takes a few steps towards me, reaches his hand out and runs his fingers along my jaw.

  “See? That's what I'm not getting. What would be easier to handle? I don't want you to have to handle being around me, Zella, I want you to enjoy it.” Noah cups the side of my face with his palm, and I find myself leaning into it. “What's wrong? It's not just me, is it? There's something else. I know that face, Zella.”

  “What face?” I whisper, but the words are soft, barely able to brush past the dryness of my lips. If Noah would only connect his mouth with mine, they could be wet again, moist. And they wouldn't be the only part of my body that would benefit from that particular treatment.

  “The one you gave Beth.” Noah drops his hand and stares at the binder. I wish he would just come right out and say it, that the Ghostwriter poem is about me. But he won't. He's not like that, and it's one of the things I love about him. It can just be a little frustrating at times. “Is this … does it have something to do with Tobias?”

  Crap.

  I turn away and move over to the set of black leather sofas nearby. This room's not decorated, hardly even dusted off. I know it's because Noah's father has declared this room his 'man cave'. Personally, I hate the term – who wouldn't want a room filled with game tables and darts and a wet bar – but maybe he just means it's off limits to Noah's mother's crazy decorating sprees. At least in here there aren't any demonic snowmen or wild-eyed reindeer paintings.

  “I knew it,” Noah hisses, and the change in his demeanor sends a thrill through me. All I want is to see him fight for me, really. Fuck. I lift a hand to my forehead and rub at my temple. I'm too complicated for my own good. “Did he hit you again?” Noah whispers because he doesn't know the full story, doesn't know that I hit Tobias right back. Or that I start fights. Or that I bring jackets with cocaine in them to the football field on game night. That I got expelled. “Your lip was puffy the first night you got here. It looks okay now, but I couldn't help but notice.” He softens his voice for me as I plop down on the couch and hold the poetry binder over my head, pressing the white plastic against my scalp.

  I'm going to tell him, I know I am. But in telling him, I have to risk seeing that disappointment on his face. I have to admit that Tobias and I are no longer together, that he really, truly does have a fighting chance at being with me. If this is Noah operating under the pretense that I'm already in a relationship, what happens when he finds out I'm not?

  “Noah … ” I let my voice trail off because I'm not sure exactly how to phrase this. The story, when I start to formulate it inside my head, sounds so stupid. It makes me, and not Tobias, sound like the bad guy, and I don't want Noah thinking of me like that, looking at me like that. He's one of a handful of people in this world that look at me like I'm special. “I don't know how to tell you this,” I start lamely.

  His bare feet pad across the green carpet towards me, and he kneels down in the sweats and T-shirt he changed into after our romp in the rain. His hands find my hands, as he tilts his blue gaze up to meet mine. Noah kisses my fingers and then sits back, crossing his legs under him much the same as I did when I was talking to Never.

  “You can tell me anything, Zella.” There it is again. Zel-la. My name from his lips, a thing of beauty. Who ever would've thought? I stare down at him, my eyes trailing to his biceps and getting caught on the muscles there. It's just weird. I've never seen Noah so freaking ripped before. I had sort of assumed he was working out to get girls or something, but maybe, just maybe, he was working out for me.

  “Tobias and I … ” I tap my fingers on my knee and try to put this delicately. I hate that I fucked him Friday night. Hearing how little sex Noah's been having makes me feel guilty for the excessive amount I indulged in with Tobias. I can still feel his hands on my body, see his brown eyes, hear his voice.

  “Zella?” It's Never, coming into the room at the same moment that Noah leans forward, fear gripping his features and twisting his mouth into the most horrific frown.

  “Are you pregnant?” Noah whispers, and before I get a chance to react, Never's moving aside and revealing the last person on this earth I thought I'd ever see here.

  My chest gets tight. I can't breathe. My stomach drops out from under me.

  “Tobias?”

  13

  “Hey,” he says softly, his eye still horribly swollen and his nose all fucked up. Crap. I look back down at Noah who's staring wide-eyed at my ex-boyfriend. Can I please just crawl under a rock and die now? “You weren't responding to my messages, so … I … can we talk about it?”

  The color drains from my face as I drop the binder to my lap. It feels like it weighs a million pounds right now. Lines from Noah's poem keep swirling through my head like lyrics to a melancholy song, one that doesn't end well. Well, fuck. I rise to my feet, tripping over Noah's legs. He reaches up to steady me and we both end up tumbling to the carpet in a pile of arms and legs.

  “I'm sorry. Sorry, Noah. I just … fuck.” I pull away from him before the electrical currents passing between us can permanently fry my brain. It doesn't seem to be working very well as it is. His mouth is so tantalizingly closed, I can practically taste him. “Crap.” I say the word aloud as I extract myself from Noah's grasp, Never's fingers curling around my arm and helping me the rest of the way up. I dust myself off, sweep some hair behind my ear, and try to drum up some dignity to wrap around myself.

  “What the fuck is he doing here?” Never growls against my ear. She doesn't even pretend to look happy when she drags me over to Tobias and parks me in front of him. He looks stressed out which is nice. Good to know he hasn't had an easy few days either. I study him, dressed in a red shirt and loose jeans. They don't cup his ass like Noah's do, but th
at's alright, I'm not looking anyway. I will talk to this man but only to find out why the fuck he felt it was okay to first stab me in the back, and then stalk me. “You listen to me,” Never says, her voice low and ominous, curling around all three of us like smoke. Tobias' eyes snap over to hers and stay there. “If you ever touch my sister again, I will kill you.”

  “Excuse me?” Tobias asks, and I can tell he's a little shocked. Nobody speaks to the Prince of Football like that. Nobody except Never Ross-McCabe. She takes a step forward and gets in his face.

  “You heard me. You touch her again, and I'll fucking kill you.” I watch as she leans forward and whispers in his ear. “And I'm two months pregnant, bitch. So if you try to hit me back … ” Never leans away from Tobias and then punches him. Right in the nose. Dead fucking center to where my fist landed during Friday's brawl.

  “What the fuck?” he groans, cupping his hands over his face as Never moves away from him and exits the room to a maniacally grinning Ty McCabe. I want desperately to glance over my shoulder and see Noah's reaction to this whole fucking fiasco, but I can't seem to make myself look. We were seconds away from some sort of … something. And now what? Now fucking what?

  “You deserved that,” I tell Tobias, pulling his wrists away from his face. There's a tiny trickle of blood, but not much. I guess my sister knows exactly where to hit and how hard. Impressive. I start dragging Tobias towards the sliding glass door to my left. It's raining again, but it doesn't matter. I'll sit him in one of the plastic chairs underneath the eaves, give him a piece of my mind, and send him packing. Then I can find Noah and explain.

  “Zella,” he calls out as I reach for the handle of the door. My heart is pounding so hard, I can barely think above the din. “No matter what happens, no matter what this is about, I still love you.”

  I yank open the sliding glass door as hard as I can and pull Tobias through it, sliding it closed behind me without looking over my shoulder. Honestly, if Tobias had just shown up like this after we'd simply broken up, I probably would've spit in his face and told him to get out, but this is about more than just me and him, my future's on the line.

  “Who the hell is that guy?” he asks, wiping blood from his face with the back of his hand. He wrinkles his nose at the red stains and retreats to the wet grass outside the porch area to wipe them off, drying his hands on his shirt.

  “Shouldn't you be more concerned with why my sister punched you in the face?” Part of me's proud of Nev for standing up for me, but the other half is mildly concerned about Tobias filing a lawsuit or something. I cross my arms over my chest and kick one of the white plastic chairs into a place where I can sit, stay dry, and watch Tobias all at the same time.

  “I know why she punched me,” he says quietly. I raise my eyebrows in surprise, sliding my gaze to the right to see if I can peek surreptitiously into the game room. Is Noah still there? Is he watching us? Can he hear what we're saying? With the rain coming down like it is now, I doubt it. Besides, Ty McCabe's the one I should be worried about eavesdropping, not Noah Scott. “This is about … what happened at the school.”

  “That, and the fact that we have the most toxic relationship on the planet.” I sigh as a shiver works its way down my spine. It's getting cold out here fast. I would not be surprised if we had another crazy snowfall this year. “But yeah, basically, that's it.” I focus all my attention on Tobias' eyes, looking him straight in the face, so he knows I'm serious. “You flat-out lied to me, Tobias. Even worse, you lied to me under the guise of telling the truth.”

  “No!” he yells, spinning around in frustration and raking his hand through his hair. “I didn't, Zella. I swear to you. When I came to you that night, it was to tell you what was going on. After that, I didn't hear anything until Monday when I went to class. I didn't know they were kicking you out until it was too late, or I would've spoken to the dean myself.” Tears fill my eyes, and I have to look away. I hate how desperate I am to believe him. I mean, I love Noah Scott, but I still care about Tobias. If I didn't, I wouldn't have stayed with him for two years. He's not perfect, and he doesn't light me up like a Christmas tree just by being around, but that doesn't mean I don't feel something. “Zella,” he says, his voice soft and comforting. I look away and focus on the wet cement at the edges of the patio. “I tried to call you, but you blocked my number. I tried to run to you, but you ended up running from me.”

  “What does it matter? We're not together anymore, and I no longer go to that school. Everything else doesn't mean shit.” I keep my eyes dry through sheer force of will. This conversation would be a hell of a lot easier if I hadn't just realized I never answered Noah's question. Are you pregnant? Ah, Christmas fucking fudge. He dredged up the worst possible thing he could think of and was still okay with it. Thankfully, I'm not pregnant, but it's nice to know that Noah would still stand by me if I was.

  “It does matter, Zella. Jesus.” Tobias runs his fingers through his hair again in a nervous gesture. I feel like there's nothing I can do or say to make this situation better, so I just wait. If he has something to tell me, he can fucking tell me now. “That's why I kept texting you. It's why I drove all the way up here to see you.” I glance up at him.

  “How did you get the address?” I ask, suddenly creeped out. Tobias rolls his eyes and shakes his head like he can't believe he's having to stand here and do this with me. I take great pleasure in seeing his nose getting even more swollen and red than it was before. Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, anyone?

  “I went to your house first and saw your mother.” I wrinkle my nose in distaste. At least I know there's a dozen easy ways for him to find out where I lived. I know I've given him the address before, at least a handful of times before I left Texas to come home for breaks. “I explained the situation and she gave me directions up here.”

  “You told her?” I ask, feeling my stomach bottom out beneath me. Well, there goes my plan. The second we get back into town, my mom will be laughing and telling this story to anyone that'll listen – most particularly Beth. Great.

  “Yeah. I mean, I was surprised you hadn't.”

  I sit quietly for a moment and stare down at my hands. All I want to do right now is paint my fingernails and throw a box of dye on my hair. I want to be someone different tomorrow than I was today, someone better. I'm definitely dying it blonde first chance I get.

  “It's not your news to tell, Tobias,” I say calmly, feeling a flush of anger surge through me. Not only did he lie to me, get me kicked out, and show up unannounced but he also told the secret that was my decision to keep. “You don't understand what it's like here, what it's like to be a Regali. I wanted something better for my life and now I don't know if I'm going to be able to have it.”

  “God, this is why you drive me fucking nuts,” Tobias says, kicking a plastic chair in frustration. It tumbles over, but he doesn't bother to pick it up. Instead, he tucks his hands in his pockets and breathes out a sigh of frustration. “Zella, would you listen to me for a freaking second here? Who cares if your mom knows or one of your know-it-all sisters or whatever. I recanted the dean's and the coach's statements publicly. I admitted to everyone that the drugs were mine.”

  I look up sharply. Well, that's a surprise. I wait in quiet anticipation for him to tell me that I'm back, that I'm in, that everything is going to be just the way it was before. I can be a Stallion, graduate, get my degree, move on with my life. And don't forget Noah. You are definitely running a little late on a heart-to-heart with that boy. Not surprisingly, I get more butterflies thinking of Noah than I do about school. Guess that should've told me something right there.

  “So now what?” I ask when Tobias just stands there staring at me. “Am I back? Is everything okay?” The way he licks his lips tells me that's not the case. I slump back in the chair and put the palms of my hands against my face. “Let me guess: you still got off scot-free?”

  “I have community service,” he whispers which only makes me laugh. Of course. Of
fucking course. “But I talked to my dad.” Tobias takes a deep breath, and I know this is hard for him. He doesn't particularly like his father. “He knows the dean, so I thought if I spoke with him, he could get you off the hook.”

  “No such like I'm guessing?” I ask, standing up from the chair. I can't wait for this conversation to be over, so I can go back inside. Even now, with all of this crap happening, I can feel that toxic pull between me and Tobias. I don't want that anymore, especially not after this.

  “No, he will,” Tobias says, licking his lips and looking every which way but at me. “But he has some conditions.” I wait for the punchline to this morbid joke. Finally, after almost a full minute of silence, Tobias smiles and focuses his attention back on me. I can tell he's trying to be sweet, that he thinks he's doing something nice for me. “He said all you had to do was make his son happy.”

  14

  After our conversation, Tobias gives me a hug and a kiss that I barely return. It's not that I'm not excited about this offer, it's just … I don't know. I realize Tobias is only half serious about the whole making his son happy thing, but I still don't feel right accepting his offer. What's he going to do? Pay the dean off? Donate money to the school? All to fix a problem that shouldn't even exist in the first place.

  I walk Tobias inside and then out to his car without introducing him to anyone. I expect him to leave, but he just grabs his duffel bag, and I realize then that we're in the midst of a little misunderstanding.

  “Where's our room?” he asks, clearly not getting the hunch in my shoulders, the tightness of my muscles, the slight hint of a frown playing around my lips. I guess I shouldn't really expect him to. This is how all of our fights end anyway – with us making up like nothing ever happened. We've hit each other, screamed the worst possible obscenities known to man, threatened one another. And we've still gotten back together.