Between Hearts: A Romance Anthology

by Alexander, Erica

  "Seriously Paige? Do you know how dangerous...?"

  "I know. I know. Be more careful. I get it Dadd..."

  "Don't you dare." I want to look pissed, but her damn giggles make it impossible. Reaching into my back pocket, I pull out my phone and hand it to her. "Just put your number in here dork. I'll call you."

  "Put your number in here dork? Dude, is that how you ask a girl for her number? God, do you have no game at all? That can't possibly work."

  "You aren't a girl," I interject. "You're Paige."

  "Wait. I'm not a girl? Umm, I'm pretty sure I am a girl and based on the way you just kissed me, I'm thinking you thought I was a girl like five minutes ago." The smart ass Paige I remember is back. Damn I missed her. And yeah, I totally know she's a girl.

  "Number. Phone. Now woman. I gotta go." This is us. The back and forth, the teasing, the laughs, the ability to be completely ourselves. God I hope this is always us.

  She types in her number, but she can't resist mumbling under her breath. "Number? Phone? Now woman? Seriously, you need to work on your skills, Briggs."

  "Shut it." I grab for my phone, but she flings her hand back, holding it out of my reach.

  "Wait, before you go..." She throws her arm around my neck, pulling my face down close to hers. "I want a picture. When you left I didn't have one single picture. Smile." Her voice is low, maybe a little sad, but her words make me grin. I didn't have a picture of us either when I left. The camera snaps, the flash blinding me temporarily. When my eyes recover, she holds the phone up, showing me the selfie. It's fucking amazing. I look happy, but Paige looks gorgeous, a smile on her face, a slight flush on her cheeks, a hint of something in her eyes. Sadness maybe or fear, I can't tell which, but it's compelling. I could stare at this picture all night, but she hands me the phone and gives me a peck on the cheek, jarring me from my thoughts. Then she heads toward the window.

  "My number's in there. Text me that picture right now, before you forget and call me in the morning. And Briggs..." She pauses, waiting for me to make eye contact. "Drive safe. Don't disappear on me again. Please?"

  "I will… and I won't. I promise. Night, Munchkin." And with that, she heads through the window and I walk back around the house towards the car, laughing when I see she put her number in under the name Munchkin. I'm so absorbed in setting our new picture as her icon, I don't even see the man standing in her front yard until I almost plow into him.

  Chapter 3

  Hate Me

  It's been a while since someone looked at me the way they would a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of their shoe. Disgust, annoyance, anger—all in one look. It's been a while, but not so long that I don't remember the feeling. It slithers up my back and wraps around my throat, choking off my words before I can even think of saying them. Today I'm officially an adult, but under the gaze of Paige's dad, I'm that dirty, worthless kid I always was in this town.

  "Mr. Fallon, I really never expected to see you sneaking out of my back yard again. And I have to tell you, I like it even less now than I did back then." This man always made it clear that he did not want me anywhere near his daughter and no doubt what happened the last time I was here only made it worse.

  "I'm sorry, Mr. James. I just wanted to stop by and see how Paige was doing. I haven't talked to her since I left and I worried about her while I was gone, Sir." Just once it would be nice if he gave me the benefit of the doubt. If he could understand I've always had Paige's best interests at heart.

  "Well, you should have worried. Paige had a hard enough time getting along with the kids in this town when we moved here and latching on to you made it worse. A lot worse."

  "Sir, I was just trying to look out for her. She was being bullied. I didn't want her to get hurt."

  "She was being teased a little bit, that's all. But then you swept in like some kind of white knight and drove a permanent wedge between her and every other kid her age. You didn't want her to get hurt? Well guess what? She did. You think it was bad when you were here? You should have seen what they did to her after you left. It was brutal and it was because of her relationship with you."

  "Mr. James I never meant..."

  "I don't give a shit what you meant. I care about what you did. You should have heard the things they said to her after you left, the names they called her. Because you see, when a high school boy is hanging around with a seventh grade girl, it scares people. They don't know what to make of that, so they assume all kinds of depraved things. And when you took off..."

  "I didn't take off, Sir."

  "It doesn't matter! When you left they went after her. Called her a whore and a slut. Said you used her all up. She was a damn kid and they said and did horrible things to her. The girls were brutal. The boys were disgusting pigs. And her mom and I were beside ourselves. We almost took her out of school."

  "Jesus. I never touched her." I turn my back to him, guilt and anger coloring my voice. I don't need him to see the revulsion on my face. I thought I had fucking helped her. I thought looking out for Paige was the one fucking thing in my life I had gotten right. I hadn't helped her. I made her life a living hell. Fuck.

  "Listen Briggs, I hope to God that’s true. And I don't think you meant for any of that to happen. Very slowly, things are getting better for her. High school has helped, more kids, it's easier for her to blend in. And you've been gone long enough people have forgotten about you. You know, she had a girl from school come over to study with her last week, the first friend she's brought home since we moved here. And that boy tonight... you know she went to a dance, right?" He pauses, but when he sees me nod, he continues. "That boy is a nice kid, comes from a good family. He hasn't let the rumors about Paige bother him and he doesn't let the other kids mess with her. I don't want to see anything... or anyone upset that. Do you understand what I'm saying here?"

  Pivoting slowly, I look him in the eye. This isn't the attack I was expecting. Hell, this isn't even an attack, which fucking blows. An attack I could have raged against; I could have fought back. This... this is some man-to-man bullshit, which I fucking respect. And believe. We both want what's best for Paige and he is making it clear that I am not it. And fuck if I don't believe him.

  "You coming back into her life is my worst damn nightmare, kid. She's finally getting her bearings and you are going to screw with that. I think you care about Paige. I choose to believe that you want what's best for her. It's time for you to prove that, because right now, you NOT being in her life is what's best for her." He pauses, his shoulders sagging as his gaze falls to my feet. His entire posture looks defeated. "She's a kid, in her first year of high school, and she's got another three years to get through. You... you're just about done with it, an adult. Please let her be just a normal high school kid right now." There's a plea in his voice I can't ignore and it's more effective than any anger he could have shown me.

  "I just want to be her friend. To talk to her once in a while, make sure she's okay. I don't want to mess with her life, Mr. James." I can feel desolation seeping through me. Even as I say the words, I know what's coming. I know what he wants.

  "Son, you really think that boy is going to stick around when he finds out she's talking to you? He won't. Then what? Do you honestly see yourself coming back here to take her to dances? What about prom? When you're twenty-one are you going to take her to her senior prom? I doubt it and guess what? She's not going to have anyone else if you pursue this."

  Dropping my eyes, I shake my head, because he's right. Goddammit I know he's right.

  "I'm not going to fill you with a lot of flowery bullshit, Briggs. Maybe, after she graduates, when none of this shit matters anymore, you guys will bump into each other again; maybe you won't. I don't have a clue. But I do know that if you give a shit about her, you will stay the hell away. She might be sad for a few weeks, but she'll get over it and a clean break will help that. Got it?"

  "Yeah... I got it." Despair washes through me, the sickening waves obliteratin
g everything good that happened tonight. Fuck, I need to get the hell out of here. "Can I go?"

  "Please do. I wish you the best of luck, kid. Just please stay away from my daughter."

  "Yeah, I got it. Thanks." And then I'm gone.

  * * *

  I knew better. I fucking knew better than to let my guard down. How can I be this numb and still feel like my rib cage has been fucking cleaved in two? This feeling right here is the reason I can never just relax and enjoy a moment. My guard always has to be up, always waiting for life to knock my feet out from under me and leave me flat on the floor. Every damn time. But just like before, I let myself be distracted by Paige. Around her I forget to keep my defenses in place. The way I feel when I'm with her makes me believe things can be better, that I have a chance. And that's when it sneaks up on me. God it's so much fucking worse when it sneaks up on me.

  I shouldn't have come. I should never have opened this old wound. Declan had me believing this was a good idea. And his family made me believe things had changed, that I had changed. That I was more than just a throwaway nobody wanted. But this town is always here to remind me just exactly who I am and what I deserve. FUCK. I need the rage now. I need anger to cauterize the hurt, to make it bearable. That's how I used to get through. I used to rage against all the pain. Only this time it's not coming. This time the only person I can rage against is myself. I did this to myself. But far worse is the knowledge that I did this to her. I promised her, I just fucking made her a promise to not disappear again. And just like last time, I'm going to fucking break it.

  Back in the car, I swipe the screen on my phone and there we are, smiling, happy. Ten minutes ago I was happy in a way I hadn't been in years. There's a calm I feel around Paige that I've never felt anywhere else. A quiet my mind craves. I used to be so fucking prideful about looking out for Paige when we were younger. What a good fucking person I was spending my time with her, protecting her, walking her home every day, keeping the bullies away. But it was all bullshit. I was a selfish, fucking prick. There for my own selfish, fucking reasons. I may have kept her bullies away in the light of day, but she kept my demons away in the dark of night.

  My mind spinning, I watch my thumb hover over the screen. I’d been mid-text, ready to send her the picture when her dad stopped me. One swipe and the decision is made. One swipe and she has our picture and my number and keeping her out of my life will be impossible. And I want that so badly. I want her in my life and I want to be in hers. I want to be there for all her firsts, not just her first kiss. I want to share her joy when she's happy and I want to wipe away her tears when she's not. I want, I want, I want. I am a selfish bastard. None of this is any good for Paige; I'm sure as hell not any good for her. I can't come pick her up in a nice car, I can't take her to her high school dances, I can't defend her in school. I can only hurt her over and over again, just like I did last time. Her dad is right. If I care about her, I'll stay the fuck away.

  I save the picture, the only picture of the two of us ever taken, but I don't hit send. Instead I delete the contact, turn the key and hit the gas. Decision made. I do fucking care about that girl. I would do anything for her, anything to protect her. Today that means leaving my heart in a bloody heap on the road in front of her house and staying the hell out of her life.

  I realize now that's all I'll ever be to her, just a string of promises broken.

  Epilogue

  This is Letting Go

  (Two Years Later)

  Paige

  Sometimes memories of that night sneak up on me, although not nearly as often as they used to. And when it happens, it hurts so damn bad it takes my breath away. I'm left wondering whether I'd have done things differently, hindsight being 20/20 and all. Would I still have come out here to our table on his birthday knowing he was going to show up? Would I still have wanted my very first kiss to belong to him knowing it was going to be our last? I honestly don't know. There are moments in life that leave you profoundly changed, sometimes for the better, sometimes not. I think you don't realize until much later that you were at a turning point. I don't mean to be melodramatic here, but that night changed something in me, and I'm pretty sure it wasn't for the better.

  It wasn't one kiss, or one night that did it. It was everything that came before. It was the fact that Briggs Fallon was the one person that really knew me. The one person in my entire life who saw the real me and accepted me exactly as I was. No, more than accepted me. He cared about me, protected me, sought me out. He chose me. And when he left that first time, as much as it crushed me, I always knew in my heart he would come back to me if he could. Or at least I thought I knew. It wasn't one kiss or one night, it was realizing I was wrong. I never meant to him what he meant to me. He can come back here anytime he wants to, he chooses not to. That rejection, Briggs rejecting me, cuts deeper than any other I've faced in my life.

  Don't get me wrong, I'm used to rejection. It's been a way of life since before I can remember. My real father took off when I was two and he never looked back. The kids in this town rejected me the minute they saw me. The girls hated me. The guys ignored me, right up until they decided I was easy, then they noticed me for all the wrong reasons. And my mom, the one person who is supposed to love me unconditionally, rejects me in a million little ways every day. Every time she tells me I need to try harder, do better, fix my hair, dress like the other girls. Every event she misses for a work meeting or game she can't make for a business dinner. Every time she tells me how badly I disappoint her is another rejection. And every one is like a little stab to my heart. Every rejection makes me doubt myself a little bit more, hope a little bit less. Every rejection makes it that much harder to care.

  Numb. It's just better to be numb. I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to feel this way all the time, but it's easier. It hurts less. After so much rejection I decided it's best to fake the smiles, say all the right things and never let anyone get close enough to hurt me again. I'm seventeen-years-old and I spend every day going through the motions. I wonder sometimes, will I look back at twenty-five or thirty-five and feel the same way? Like I just kept doing the next thing expected of me. No thought, no decisions, no choices... just do whatever I'm supposed to do next. If I didn't know better I would wonder if this is what it's like for everyone, but I do know better. I remember feeling. With Briggs my heart opened and expanded and all there was was feeling. It was amazing. But only for a moment. It was glorious. And then it shredded my heart. I'll take numb every damn time.

  I don't even know what I'm doing out here tonight. It's been two years and I haven't been out to this table one time. Our table. The last place I felt anything besides numb.

  I strum my beat-up guitar—his mom's old Fender. Lyrics flit through my head, but I don't write them down. No point. No one will ever hear them. My mom thinks music is a waste of my time. Apparently I should be studying, or joining clubs, or doing charity work so I can get into a good college. No wait... not a good college. So I can get into the same college as Zack, because of course we are going to college together. According to my mom, only a fool would let a great catch like Zack get away. I'm doing the next thing. It's what good girls do. They date a nice boy in high school, go off to college with him, graduate, get married, pop out kids, buy an SUV and a country club membership and live happily ever after. They do not play guitars given to them by delinquents they used to know when they were children. Her words, not mine. And they certainly don't think about sneaking down to the coffee shop in town on open-mic night to play one of the songs they keep locked away with all their messy feelings.

  The thing I realized is Zack made the exact opposite choice two years ago. Briggs chose to walk away and never look back. Zack chose to get up the next morning and call to make sure I was okay and to let me know he was fine with our almost kiss. He decided to ask me out again, and when I turned him down for weeks because I was heart broken over Briggs, Zack chose to keep asking. He became my friend and spent his time cheer
ing me up, even though he didn't understand why I was so sad. And when I finally agreed to another date with him, he chose to ask me to be his girl. Unlike Briggs, Zack always chose me.

  The Valentine's dance is in a few days and I'm going with Zack again, like I have every dance over the last two years. Things at school have gotten better, slowly. I have a few girlfriends now, mostly girls from my softball team. We hang out and talk about boys and clothes. It bores me to tears but it makes Mom happy. Guys have noticed me too. Grow some boobs and date a popular jock and somehow you end up on their radar, but I actually don't care. I'll stick with Zack. He's a nice guy. He treats me well and respects me. We don't have a lot in common, but we make due. I pretend to care about his interests; he tries to care about mine. Its easy and comfortable and it keeps everyone happy. Mostly it keeps me from being lonely.

  Zack keeps referring to the dance as our two-year anniversary, but it's not. Today is the real anniversary of our first date and my first real kiss, although the two things aren't related. Not really. Actually, they couldn't have been more different. The date with Zack was awkward, uncomfortable and forgettable. Kissing Briggs was none of those things. The date should have been a one-time thing, hardly worth repeating, but Zack disagreed. Turns out it's been repeated a lot. The kiss Briggs and I shared should have been the first of many, worthy of an encore, but obviously Briggs disagreed. I guess I was wrong about that too.

  This weekend, after the dance, Zack and I are going to a hotel. He rented a room and asked me to tell my parents I'm spending the night at a friend's house, so I did. No thought, no decision, just do the next thing. Keep moving forward on the path I'm not sure I ever chose. He's waited patiently for two years, no pressure, no complaining. Most guys would have been pushing me by now. Not Zack though. He's a good guy. He'll be gentle and considerate and it might as well be him. I'm sure I can trust him and I doubt he'll ever hurt me intentionally. And most importantly, he's proved the only thing I really need to know by staying.