Letting Go

by Jessica Ruddick

  “The DD isn’t running,” I informed her.

  “Oh.” Amber blinked, then realization dawned on her. “Oh,” she said again, drawing out the word. “I decided to stay here, and when you didn’t come back earlier, I figured you got a ride home.”

  I crossed my arms. “That’s messed up, Amber. You think I would just leave without you? You’re the reason I came out tonight.”

  A look of guilt flashed across her face. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “No, you weren’t.” With a final glare, I turned on my heel and stormed down the hallway.

  I leaned against the wall and cursed. Amber totally screwed me over on this one. Granted, I should have paid more attention to the time, but still. I was trying to be a good friend and let her have time with Brad, and look where it got me.

  Stuck.

  Fuck.

  I had nowhere else to go, so I went back to Luke’s room.

  He had changed into plaid pajama pants and a white T-shirt. We were having a regular pajama party, except I didn’t have my pajamas. My thoughts turned to last week when I slept in my clothes and woke up with my skirt practically around my neck. I looked down at my little black dress.

  Double fuck.

  Not that I’d be able to sleep. This situation was just plain awkward.

  Fucking Amber. That was a shitty move she pulled.

  “Do you want to borrow something?” Luke asked.

  I weighed my options. Ending up with my dress up around my neck in the morning or wearing something of Luke’s. The second option won, but just barely.

  Spending the night wearing clothing that smelled like him was going to be pure delicious torture. My belly stirred in anticipation.

  God, I needed to turn that off. But how could I turn off a gut reaction?

  I shouldn’t be having these feelings for Luke. It was too soon after Tyler. He’d died because of me, and here I was shacking up with another guy.

  Okay, so I wasn’t exactly shacking up, and it certainly wasn’t by choice, but still. A small part of me said it was okay to get involved with Luke. Tyler’s death was a tragedy, but our relationship was dead long before he was.

  Then the larger, more reasonable part of me bitch slapped that small part in the face.

  It was too soon.

  Luke dug in his drawer and pulled out a T-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts. From another drawer he pulled out an unopened toothbrush.

  He offered it to me. “I don’t know about you, but I can’t sleep unless I’ve brushed.”

  I relaxed a little bit. “Thanks.” I somehow felt better clutching the plastic toothbrush in my hand.

  I took the clothes and the toothbrush and traipsed down to the bathroom. It was not as clean as it was last week. Only a week, and the house was already beginning to fall apart. I was careful not to touch my bare feet to the ground and instead balanced on my high heels while I changed. I felt silly strutting down the hallway in my heels wearing athletic shorts that were rolled at the waist several times to keep them from falling off and a T-shirt that hit me mid-thigh, but it was better than contracting meningitis. I didn’t even want to think about what was growing under my feet.

  My fury at Amber burned a little bit when I passed Brad’s door and I could hear her giggling inside. I gave the door the double one-fingered salute as I walked by. I felt mildly better.

  When I got back to Luke’s room, he was stretched out on the couch. I stood in the doorway, holding my clothes. Things were about to get awkward.

  Luke looked up, noticing me standing there. “You can take the bed.”

  “No, that’s okay,” I said immediately. “I’ll take the couch.”

  Luke’s tall frame didn’t fit on the short couch. He was lying on his back, and his feet were propped up on the arm. There was no way he could be comfortable. It wasn’t fair to put him out because I was irresponsible.

  “I insist,” he said.

  “I’m not going to kick you out of your own bed. That’s just wrong. You’ve got to be uncomfortable. Let me take the couch. I fit on it better than you.”

  “That may be true, but I was not raised to let guests sleep on the couch.”

  “It’s not like your mother’s going to find out,” I protested. “I highly doubt you’re going to tell her about this.”

  He grinned, and I looked away, clearing my throat. I made it sound like there was something to talk about. There wasn’t. Nothing to see here, folks. This was totally innocent.

  Huh. Tell that to my nose that kept sniffing the T-shirt that smelled faintly of Luke. Or the tightening in my belly as a result of the lingering scent.

  “Yeah,” Luke said, “but you’re still not sleeping on the couch.”

  Exhaustion was setting in, so I let him win this one and climbed into his bed. The pillows smelled like him. I closed my eyes and inhaled, snuggling into them. Then my eyes snapped open.

  What the hell am I doing? First the T-shirt and now the pillows? I vowed not to breathe through my nose.

  In the darkness, Luke shifted on the couch, trying to find a comfortable position. It seemed like he shifted every thirty seconds or so. With every squeak of the couch, the guilt set in.

  I sighed. “This is ridiculous. We can share the bed.” It was out of my mouth before I knew I would say it.

  Luke didn’t respond at first. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I was inviting the awkwardness I had been trying so hard to avoid. But what if he didn’t want to share the bed with me? What would that mean?

  I pulled the covers up to my chin and bit my lip. “Luke?”

  “I’m thinking.”

  I waited for what seemed like an eternity, half expecting to hear the Jeopardy! music. I was in quite the predicament. I wanted him to want to sleep with me—and I meant sleep in the literal sense—but that might open a door that was best kept closed.

  But what was taking him so long to decide? The longer he took, the faster my heart thudded and the tighter my fingers clenched the edge of the comforter.

  Then he finally said, “Okay.”

  I shifted to the very edge of the bed as he climbed in. “Thanks,” he said. “That couch is fucking uncomfortable.”

  I rolled my eyes in the darkness. Didn’t I just tell him that?

  Luke settled in on the other side of the bed, leaving a space between us, like the gentleman he’d been all night. That just made me like him more.

  I paused, letting the realization sink in. I couldn’t pretend anymore.

  I liked him. It pained me to acknowledge it, but I liked him, and I meant liked him liked him. I shouldn’t even be considering a relationship, though. On top of my academics, now I had to worry about the small problem of tuition money. If I didn’t come up with that, I could kiss my college life good-bye. A relationship was a complication I didn’t need and didn’t have time for.

  Plus, my last one hadn’t ended so well. I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed the dark thoughts deep inside. Now wasn’t the time.

  The sound of Luke’s steady breathing filled the room. He was asleep. I wished I could say the same for myself. I shifted into a more comfortable position and pleaded with my brain to silence and allow me to drift off.

  I turned again and accidently grazed his leg with my foot. I stiffened and held my breath, but he didn’t wake.

  It dawned on me that this was the first time I’d slept with someone. I mean, I wasn’t a virgin, but my experiences were when I was in high school and I was still living with my parents, so it wasn’t like I could sleep all night with a guy.

  Huh. I never thought my first time actually sleeping with a guy would be like this, strangely impersonal, yet oh-so-intimate at the same time.

  I closed my eyes again.

  I must have fallen asleep because I woke to find Luke gently shaking my shoulder.

  “Hey, sleepyhead.” Smiling, he propped himself up on his elbow.

  I yanked the covers up over my head. “I’m still tired.�
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  He pulled them back down. “I want to talk to you.”

  “Can’t it wait?” I grumbled. Despite how cute Luke looked with his sleepy morning eyes, I still wasn’t keen on being woken up. A morning person I was not.

  He shook his head. “It’s pretty important.”

  I sighed. “What is it?”

  “I want to say good-bye.”

  I furrowed my brow. “What do you mean? Are you going somewhere?” I started to sit up, to get ready to leave—I wasn’t going to stay here by myself—but his expression stopped me.

  It was troubled, his eyes full of sadness. “You could say that.”

  Something wasn’t right.

  “Can I go with you?” I asked.

  He shook his head again. “I don’t want you to.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

  I didn’t understand. What was he talking about? Where was all this coming from?

  Then seemingly from out of nowhere, he pulled out a gun. It was silver and looked like one a cowboy would carry.

  My eyes widened. “What is that?” It was a stupid question, born out of the fear that dominated my voice.

  “This is my ticket out of here.”

  I clutched the covers, my knuckles whitening. “What are you talking about?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Before I could do anything else, he held the gun up to his temple. “Good-bye, Cori.”

  Chapter Nine

  Screaming. Someone was screaming, a horrifying panicked scream, an I’m-being-chased-by-an-ax-murderer scream.

  “Cori! Wake up!”

  The screaming stopped as suddenly as it began.

  “Don’t do it! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” I felt someone squeezing my hand and my eyes popped open.

  Luke was sitting up in bed next to me, concern in his eyes, my hand in his.

  “Oh, God,” I whispered. The screams were mine. I pulled my hand away from him and wrapped my arms around myself. Luke scooted back, giving me space.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I whispered. “It was just a nightmare.”

  My academic mind was taking over, insisting that the dream was just a result of stress. In the last seven days, my life had been turned upside down, smashed into bits with a jackhammer, and then beaten with a club.

  Stress. It was just stress.

  But knowing that still didn’t stop me from shaking or dry the dampness of my cold sweat.

  Luke handed me a bottle of water and I gulped it down gratefully.

  “You were pretty deep into it,” he said. “I had a hard time waking you.”

  I clutched the water bottle, refusing to meet his eyes. I couldn’t look at him right now. Not without seeing that silver gun pressed to his temple.

  “What time is it?”

  “Around six.”

  “Can you take me home now?” I whispered.

  He hesitated like he wanted to say something, but wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Okay,” he said finally, getting out of bed and slipping on some shoes.

  The ride to the Alpha house was painfully silent. Luke looked over at me a few times like he still wanted to say something, but ultimately thought better of it.

  What could he say? I barely knew him, and I’d had a total freak-out while sleeping in his bed for an impromptu sleepover. The logical part of my brain registered embarrassment, but I didn’t feel it yet.

  Instead, I felt empty.

  When we pulled up to the Alpha house, I immediately opened the door to get out of the car. Luke grabbed my hand, stopping me before I could get out.

  “Cori.”

  “Thanks for the ride,” I said stiffly, looking at my feet. I couldn’t face him. Not yet.

  He waited a few seconds before letting go of my hand and sighing. “You’re welcome.”

  I ran into the house. It was not until I closed the door behind me that I heard him drive away. Luckily it was early enough that my sisters were still in their rooms. I didn’t want to have to explain this walk of shame.

  I stripped down and stepped into the shower. Sitting on the tiled floor, I pulled my knees to my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut, letting the scalding water rush over my skin. Sobs wracked my body.

  Was it my fault? Was I the reason Tyler killed himself?

  For about the millionth time, I remembered that last fateful conversation, the one I’d give anything to do over.

  “You’re being selfish, Cori.”

  “That’s unfair. You’re the one who decided to go to college thousands of miles away.”

  “I couldn’t base my college decision on you.”

  “And you can’t expect me to drop everything and jump on a plane whenever you beckon me. I don’t have the money. Besides, I have a life here.”

  “What’s so important? Another stupid sorority social with fucking frat guys?”

  “You know what, Tyler? I can’t do this right now. Call me back when you get your head out of your ass.”

  That was the last thing Tyler ever heard from another human being.

  That’s the thing about words. Once they’re said, you can’t take them back no matter how badly you want to.

  What if I hadn’t spoken to him that night? What if I’d said something different? What if I’d sucked it up and gotten on a plane to visit him?

  Could I have saved him?

  Would he still be alive?

  We had already drifted apart by then. Our relationship was ending, but we were both stubbornly holding onto something that was broken because it was safe, comfortable. After five years together, it was all we knew. And what if he were still here? Maybe we could’ve fixed it, fixed us. At the very least, maybe we could’ve stayed friends. And that was just it.

  I’d never know.

  …

  “Cori, wake up.”

  I pulled the covers over my face.

  “I have doughnuts. Chocolate frosted with sprinkles.”

  I peeked out of my covers to see Amber shaking a bag from the local bakery. Well played, Amber, well played. I sat up and she perched on the edge of my bed.

  She handed me a doughnut. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have put you in that situation last night.”

  I broke off a piece and stuck it in my mouth. “What time is it?” I asked.

  “Ten. I would have been home sooner, but Brad had to drop Josh off at his car, and then I had to get the doughnuts.”

  Yeah, the doughnuts were crucial. She definitely knew the way to soften me up first thing in the morning.

  And honestly? Being mad at her didn’t seem worth the energy anymore.

  I swallowed the last of the doughnut. “It’s okay. I’m over it.”

  “I still feel bad.” Guilt filled her blue eyes. “I saw Luke this morning. He told me I should go home and talk to you.”

  I sat up straighter. “What did he tell you?”

  Her brows furrowed. “That’s it—just that I should go home and talk to you.”

  I exhaled and pulled my knees to my chest. “I’m not mad at you. I mean, I was, but I’m over it now. Honest.”

  She took in my ragged appearance. “Then what’s wrong? Did something happen with Luke?”

  I took a deep breath. “I had a nightmare.”

  “Well, that sucks.” She waited for me to continue. She knew me well enough to know that wasn’t the end of it. It was time to fill her in on what I should have told her days ago.

  I sighed. “My parents told me a few days ago that Tyler’s car accident wasn’t an accident. It was suicide.” Amber’s expression went from disbelieving to horrified as I filled her in on the details.

  “Is that what your nightmare was about?”

  I shook my head. “Not exactly. Luke was in it, and he…he had a gun.”

  “A gun? Why did he have a gun?”

  I made a gun shape with my hand and put it up to my temple.

  She winced.
“Did he…?”

  “No. He woke me up right before it happened in the dream.”

  Amber sat with me in quiet solidarity for a few minutes. “I’m sorry.”

  Those two simple words were why I loved her. She got it. And she didn’t give me a hard time about not telling her about Tyler sooner. She understood me enough to know it wasn’t a reflection on our friendship.

  I took a shaky breath. “Me, too.”

  “You know you can talk to me about it.”

  “I know,” I said, and I knew she’d be as good as her word. She might be flighty sometimes and not able to keep her side of the room neat, but she was solid where it counted. I just didn’t want to talk about it. So I changed the subject, knowing she’d understand and let it drop.

  “I can’t believe that it happened when I was sleeping in Luke’s bed. Talk about bad timing.”

  “What?” Amber squealed, bouncing on my bed. “Give me details.”

  I rolled my eyes. “It’s not like that. It was just sleep. We stayed on our own sides of the bed.”

  Amber’s face fell. “Oh.” She looked like a child who’d gotten socks and underwear for Christmas instead of the pony she’d asked for.

  “He was really nice about the whole thing, letting me sleep in the bed while he took the couch, but the couch was way too small for him, so to make a long story short, I told him we could share the bed.” I leaned my forehead on my knees. “I’m so embarrassed.”

  “I’m sure he didn’t think anything of it.”

  It was a nice thought, but I was skeptical. “Then why did he tell you to come talk to me?”

  “Maybe he thought you were mad at me? You said you were at first. Did you say anything about it?”

  I shook my head. “He let me borrow some clothes. You’re going to have to return them for me. I can’t face him.”

  “Honey, it’s not that big of a deal. He seems to like you. It’s sweet that he was worried about you.”

  “He probably thinks I’m deranged.”

  “I doubt that. Everyone has nightmares.”

  There was more to it than I was telling Amber. It was true I didn’t want to face it, but only part of it was due to embarrassment. I was worried that every time I looked at him I would see him holding that gun to his head.