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Entangled

Page 14

by Annie Brewer


  Landon steps back and relaxes his stance. “Can we talk?” No, I’m busy. I shake my head because I’m sure it’s not something I care to hear. “Maddy, are you okay?” I glance at Andi for a second, ready for our movie watching, ice cream eating, girlie night.

  “We,” I point between Andi and myself, “have plans tonight. So I don’t have time to talk right now.” I shuffle to the door and open it, impatient.

  “Fine, but we still need to talk.” He stops in the doorway and narrows his eyes at Andi before he looks back at me and leaves. They’ve had their share of animosity over the years. They tolerate each other mainly for mine and Derrick’s sake.

  I close the door, making a face as if he could see me. What is wrong with me?

  We finish putting everything away. I take the bags filled with my New York items into my room and then pull out the suitcase stuffed in the back of my closet and toss it all in there for now. A smile on my face makes me realize how real this all is. It is real and it’s also terrifying. What‘s it like there? Would I fit in or stick out like a sore thumb? I close the suitcase and set it on the floor in my closet for later, then make my way to the kitchen to call for pizza. Canadian bacon…yum!

  As we sit on the sofa stuffing our faces with our dinner, watching the Notebook (Andi’s choice, I’d rather watch The Matrix or Bourne Identity, but that’s just me), my mind wanders to Noah. Oh and not Noah as in Ryan Gosling. Though Andi should have realized choosing this movie would make me think of Noah…my Noah that is. Or my friend Noah. I really wish she wouldn’t have put this sappy romantic movie on because now I’m picturing me as Rachel McAdams and Noah as Ryan Gosling. It’s like she enjoys torturing herself…or me. I sneak a glance at her posture next to me and see a tear falling down her cheek. I can’t tell if it’s due to the movie, which we’re at the part where they’re lying in the street together or if it’s something else and it’s driving me insane. I hate seeing her upset and I don’t know why. She knew my life story and helped me through the toughest times; can’t she trust me to do the same for her? I sit up and face her. “We don’t have to watch this.” She turns to me, pizza in hand and shakes her head.

  “It’s okay, I need to cry. Holding it in will make it worse.”

  “What’s going on Andi? Holding it in will make it worse, you just said it yourself, and I’m here so tell me. Tell me everything. Did Derrick do something? Did something happen?”

  “No it wasn’t Derrick.” She wipes her eyes and her breaths become shallow as she struggles to find the right words. She crosses her legs and faces me, tears falling freely now and more of them. I become worried, knowing full and well that it’s something serious and I brace myself for bad news.

  “It’s…well, we found out…” She takes a deep breath, holding her hand out with her left hand, palm out and her right hand over her heart. I place mine on her knee for support, my heart is beating fast. “My dad has cancer.” My heart stops. And then she loses it. I can’t breathe. Andi drops her head into her hands and her body shakes with her sobs. I feel like I got the wind knocked out of me. My ears have shut off. This can’t be happening. Why? Why does this have to be true? This man was like a father to me all these years after I lost my mother and my father became a stranger. I was alone. Until Andi’s parents took me in. And then I had a family, I felt normal…somewhat. He treated me like a daughter and now I’m going to lose him.

  The universe is out to get me. I swallow, taking Andi into my arms and begin to cry silently along with her. “Oh Andi.” And now I lose it too. The flood gates are opened.

  After an hour, when we’ve finally cried our eyes out and there’s no more tears to be shed, for now, Andi goes to bed. I sit in the same place on the couch, my eyes hurt and I feel numb. I can’t think about sleeping. This just doesn’t feel real. Andi’s father Jim treated me like family. He knew my own father was absent so he sort of took over the role, so to speak. He taught me a lot and to think he has cancer, not knowing how serious it is but still, you hear the word cancer, you always think of death. Sure there’s a chance he could be cured if they caught it early enough or he can take treatments and help but the fact that he has it at all is absurd. I can’t imagine what her mother is going through, how she must feel.

  Apparently, I’m not all cried out because a single tear runs down my right cheek. I don’t wipe it. I sit, rooted to the spot, numb.

  I get up to clean the kitchen, trying to distract my brain but when I hear Andi’s muffled cries through the wall, I almost lose it. Again. I need to get out of here. I grab my purse, keys and leave. Where? I don’t really know, I just can’t stay here right now.

  Chapter 25

  Noah

  I’ve had trouble sleeping. It’s been this way since I read the letter from my mother. I’m conflicted but hopeful. Maybe she’s changed. Maybe she just thinks she is until something else happens and she regresses. I don’t know. I want to believe her. I want her to get help and sober up and toss the men out on the street. She deserves better. Despite her lack of parenting, she does deserve to be happy. I don’t know how she felt when my father left, I only know from a son’s standpoint. She knew him longer than she knew me…and she trusted him. He broke her heart and kicked her to the dust. Asshole. I think subconsciously that’s why I’m afraid of commitment, afraid of turning out like him.

  And then I’ve had thoughts of Maddy creep into my relentless brain. I just can’t believe I invited her to New York. What was I thinking? My impulses really piss me off. Part of me wants to cancel on her but another part-the bigger part wants to go with it. She’s never been there before so it could be really fun for her to see New York in all its busy glory. I’m supposed to be staying away from Maddy, not the opposite. No wait, we’re friends. But it feels like something else…

  I lie on the couch, remote in hand flipping through the channels when I hear a faint knock on my door. What the fuck? I glance at the clock on the microwave; ten o clock. Hm, I’m not expecting company tonight. I stare at the door, uncertain if I should bother answering it when the knock appears a little louder. Reluctantly, I lift myself off the couch and slip on my house shoes before unlocking and opening the door.

  A very upset Maddy is standing in the doorway. Shit.

  “Hey.” She says quietly with tears in her voice. “Sorry to bother you.” I usher her inside. I can’t turn her away; she looks like she’s been crying. She looks everywhere but at me. “I had nowhere else to go.”

  “Hey, it’s fine. What’s wrong?” We sit down on the couch. Maddy hangs her head, tears fall down her beautiful face and I want to reach out and wipe them away. I stop myself, suddenly aware of how new this feeling is. I’m not good at handling crying girls. I never cared or wanted to make it better for them. Insensitive, I know. That’s me. Or it was me, I think. I’m so conflicted. I’m not good with emotions. I turned mine off long ago. Why are they turned back on again? I’m getting whiplash.

  I place my hands in my lap, uncomfortable. I sit back and let her cry, though she’s quiet, I can feel the shaking of the couch, and then ask, “Do you want to talk about it?” She just shakes her head, still not looking at me. Her hair shields the side of her face.

  I grab the remote, kick back and wait-for what? I’ve no fucking clue. How long do girls cry for? Maybe I should get us a beer, it could be awhile. I really wish I had more experience in this department. I used to care, once. And then after the accident, never again. But this feels different. I don’t know why, it just does. I have to refrain from stroking her hair gently or taking her in my arms and letting her cry into my chest. Isn’t that what normal people do? I sniff myself…I need a shower, I conclude. Maybe it’s better for her to keep some distance.

  She sniffles and wipes her eyes before she finally looks at me. Her hazel eyes are strikingly beautiful, I never really noticed. “Thank you.” I must look confused because she answers my unasked question with a tiny laugh. “For not asking a bunch of questions and just letting me cr
y. I needed it.”

  I give her a small nod and look away. “It’s not for the lack of caring or wanting to know. I’m just not good with crying. It’s new for me. I guess I’m made of stone.” I return her gaze, serious. “Tell me this though, did Landon hurt you? Because if he did, if you’re crying because of him, I’ll beat the shit out of him.” She shakes her head.

  “No, it’s not because of him.” Too bad, I’ve been looking for a reason to fight that fucker. I immediately shake the thoughts out of my head for the time being. That will have to wait as I’m sure there will come a day where we cross paths and he starts shit with me.

  But not tonight.

  I smile sympathetically and try to lighten the mood. “So have you thought about what you want to see when we’re in New York?” Her face changes, a mixture of relief for the topic change and excitement for the upcoming trip. She smiles, which makes me happy. I’m not sure why I care so much. Why can’t I not give a damn? Why am I so intrigued by this girl?

  “I told you, I want to see everything.”

  “And what does everything include?” She leans back with her head against the cushion and closes her eyes. I wonder if she’s picturing it all in her head. She may not have been there in person, but I’m sure she knows enough about New York from TV and movies and history to know what there is to see. “Let’s see; Rockefeller Center, Statue of Liberty, Times Square, Madison Square Garden, China Town, Central Park, Grand Central, St Patrick’s Cathedral, Museum..” Her eyes open and she turns her head to look at me. “It’s a shame the World Trade Center’s aren’t there anymore. I always wanted to go there.” I smile sadly and lean back, looking at the ceiling.

  “Yeah, it was pretty cool. I used to go there as a kid…with my dad.” I can hear venom dripping from those words. “He actually worked in one of the buildings. He quit a couple years before the attacks.” Too bad he didn’t stay there a little longer.

  “I’m sorry Noah. It sucks not having parents active in your life. I’d give anything to have my mother back. My father too.” I know too well what that feels like.

  I sit up and pat her knee sympathetically. “It’s not too late. Do you want to go to Midnight and get a drink?”

  “Now?” I quirk my brows in her direction. Maybe she doesn’t get out much. Or maybe I’m making her nervous. Either way, it’s obvious we both could use a drink or two. And clearly, she needs a distraction from whatever she’s going through, if only for a little while.

  “Yes, now. It’s not that late and I’m thirsty.” I stand up and stretch my stiff legs. I look down at my attire and decide to change. Maddy is looking at herself as well, probably thinking the same thing about herself since she’s got on sweats. It’s nice that she doesn’t feel the need to come over in dresses and skirts with tight fitting blouses. I like the casual look. She’s not dressing to impress you, a voice tells me. I want to kick the voice in the face. But I roll my eyes instead.

  I like girls who are confident in their skin and like to be comfortable around me. I don’t need all the makeup, fake Barbie doll wannabe girls. I like girls who wear their hair in a messy bun, no makeup and workout clothes or just jeans and t-shirts. Natural and beautiful.

  But wait, since when did I ever like anyone? Maybe that’s the kind of girl I want in my future, if I ever learn to get close enough to someone. Because the girl I was just describing is the opposite of what I always went after. But that could be the fact that all I wanted was sex and well, most of the girls that put out are the ones that dress provocatively.

  Once I change into a pair of jeans and my Bon Jovi t-shirt, I follow Maddy to her apartment so she can change. Living on the opposite side of the complex still feels like a lengthy drive. I wait in my jeep and flip through my CD’s. I put Daughtry in the player and wait.

  Ten minutes go by when she comes out. I watch as she walks past my jeep and quickly roll my window down. “Where are you going?” I ask confused. She stops walking, turns and glances from her car parked a few cars down and mine and then cocks her head to the side.

  “I thought we were going to the bar?”

  “Why would we take separate cars? We live in the same complex, going to the same bar.” Not to mention, she shouldn’t be driving once she’s had a couple drinks. Lord knows I’ve had my share of mishaps. But I don’t say any of that. She doesn’t know much about my past and I’m content to keep it that way.

  Call me a hypocrite, but I only plan on having a drink and I can hold my own. Hell it takes me more than ten drinks to get tipsy. But those hardcore drinking days have been long gone, left in New York. Tonight, I want to keep an eye on her and make sure she’s okay. Not that she needs a protector or is helpless. To be honest, I don’t know why I care. Yes you do, you care.

  No matter how many times I deny my attraction to her, I know it’s a lie. The truth is, I’m highly attracted to her but I’m scared shitless. So, I won’t act on it. I’ll just be her friend and pray that’s enough. It can be enough. It has to be enough. I just can’t drag her into my problems, my emotional turmoil. She needs someone less fucked up. A therapist couldn’t even help me.

  “I can drive myself.” Geez, she’s a stubborn one…or afraid of me. I ponder her statement but shake my head. No way in hell she’s driving tonight.

  “Get in the jeep.” I rev the engine loudly, making her jump and she gives me the stink eye. I laugh. “Please get in; we’re wasting precious drinking time.” She sighs and relents, walking around to the passenger side and getting in.

  “Alright Chauffeur…take me to get my drink on.” I laugh and back out of the complex. This should be interesting.

  “You like Daughtry?” She turns up the volume, clearly surprised by my taste in music.

  “There’s not much I don’t like in reference to music. I was on my own a lot so I had to rely on something to keep me sane. I found that music really helped fill some small void. Especially the sad songs. They made me feel like I wasn’t alone in the world, going through a rough life and having to get by. There are others like me, who have it worse.” Like maybe you, I don’t say. I only know small bits of pieces of her life and it seems like she’s suffered too. I wanna know more though. I wanna know everything. And then I laugh to myself, “Well, mostly sane. Are you cold?”

  I reach out to turn up the heat but she shakes her, reaching her hand out to stop me. “No, it’s fine.” It’s quiet aside from the music playing but even that is quiet. I glance at Maddy staring out the window. She looks lost in thought. I have to look away because I’m finding her more and more appealing. It’s dark but I can still see the way her shirt clings to her body, not too tight and not baggy either. Her long brown hair is down, hanging over her left shoulder. I have the sudden urge to run my fingers through it. I quickly avert my eyes back on the road. Get it together, Noah. It’s not happening.

  She lets out a sigh before she finally breaks through my absurd thoughts. “I’m sorry for showing up at your place, crying. I’m not sure what came over me. I’m so embarrassed. I don’t normally act impulsively.” I look at her and see a glow of the lights from the streets on her face. Her eyes look sad and I suddenly wish I could take her pain away.

  “It’s okay, really. It’s not like I had anything to do. You saved me from hours of boredom, staring at the ceiling.” She giggles and it warms my heart.

  “Were you counting sheep?”

  “Does it work?” I ask, teasing.

  “I don’t really know. I’ll have to test that theory one day.” And just like that I feel like a friendship with her would be not only possible but a necessity. I can have a gorgeous female friend with no complications, right? Did I just say gorgeous? Christ.

  We pull up to the bar and thankfully it’s not crowded. I open the door for Maddy, she smiles when she walks in. We head straight for the bar.

  “Do you want to play pool?” I ask before we sit down. I know once I sit, I’ll feel obligated to open up about things I’m not ready to share with a
nyone. But at a bar, there’s nothing to do besides sit and stare at each other awkwardly.

  “Oh I just wanted a drink and sit for a little while first. Is that okay?” I always hate getting the puppy dog look from chicks. I never gave into them which pissed them off. Now I’m finding that it doesn’t bother me. It’s rather endearing on Maddy’s face.

  Son of a-

  “Sure it’s fine.” I smile and sit next to her, catching the scent of her perfume in my nostrils-it’s a citrusy smell and it’s making me dizzy. She orders our drinks while I observe the half empty bar. It’s a Tuesday night; I guess not everyone is sleeping-like normal people.

  “Here.” Maddy hands me a beer and sits down.

  “Thanks.” I smile, take a swig, letting the foamy, cold beverage flow through my system and then set it down. “Tell me something,” I start, “why aren’t you trying to get a record deal?” She laughs like I’ve said the funniest thing she’s ever heard. I’m actually serious, she’s got talent. “Okay, did I say something funny?”

  “Sorry, it’s not. It’s not funny at all. It’s just that I find that an odd question to start the night with. You’re very straight forward sometimes.” She has no idea how wrong she is…I used to be straightforward, no bull shitting or beating around the bush. I can’t seem to do that with her for some reason.

  “It’s a legit question. I mean you have mad passion for singing. I saw it the other night. You’ve got a beautiful voice.” She takes a sip of her beer, avoiding my gaze. Did I say something wrong?

  Finally she looks at me and shifts her position, crossing her right leg over her left one. “My mother wanted to be a singer. She had a beautiful voice. She would have made it. But she never got that chance. Probably because once she had me, she put her dreams aside. After her accident I turned to music wholeheartedly to fill the void she left behind. I love music with powerful lyrics and rhythm, something that makes me feel while I’m singing.” She closes her eyes as she continues. “While I’m on that stage, I can almost feel her beside me, cheering me on.” She opens her eyes and looks at me as a tear falls down her cheek. I feel like shit, for making her cry. What a dumb shit move of me.

 

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