by Lane, Bayli
“Just can’t keep your hands off of me,” he jokes and then walks away.
“What the hell happened to you?” Lauren asks when she slows down enough to really look at me. “You’re a wreck.”
I roll my eyes, walk over to my bed and sit down. “No shit. Thanks for stating the obvious.”
“What’s that on your neck?” She walks over to me and then takes a closer look. “At first I thought maybe you just had a few major hickeys, but those look like fingerprints, Lilly. What the hell?”
“Lauren, something is going on with Sander,” I say inaudibly as the tears start filling my eyes again.
The amount of tears I’ve cried in the past week has been more than I’ve cried in over four years. It’s absolutely absurd, and I hate feeling like my entire world is crashing down around me. The feeling is similar to a heavy weight bearing down on me and every time I stop to think of the arguments, the changes, and the hurt Sander caused last night, I can’t keep the tears at bay. I feel I have no control over my life right now. It all seems to just be happening, and I’m standing somewhere over the sequence of events and just watching my life play out. It doesn’t seem like any of this drama and abuse could possibly be happening to me. Yet here I sit on my bed with Lauren looking sternly at me waiting for an explanation, and a neck bruised enough that I’ll have to wear a summer scarf to hide it until it clears up.
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“Sander…” I pause and look up at her. She sits next to me and takes my hands into hers.
“What about Sander?” she pushes.
I place my fingers to my neck. “He choked me last night.”
Her eyes widen; first from surprise, then from skepticism. “No way,” she says.
“I wouldn’t lie to you about this!” I yell. “Why would I lie to you?”
She narrows her eyes. “Lilly, I don’t know what’s been going on with you lately, but you’ve been a real bitch about Sander. Every little thing he says or does you get all crazy pissed off about—like him being a different person. He’s the same person from high school! You’re the one that’s different.”
I stand up, my arms stiff at my sides and hands fisted, “How do you know?!” I step up closer to her face. “You’ve been out every damn night! You haven’t been around either Sander or me! How would you know who’s changed, who’s been acting weird? You wouldn’t!”
“See!” she yells and points at my chest. “Poor, innocent Lilly! Woe is me!”
“I haven’t complained once about you not being here, Lauren! I get that you want to make your own friends. I want that too. But don’t try and tell me I don’t know when my own boyfriend is changing. He choked me for god’s sake!”
“You’re delusional,” Lauren chuckles out hysterically. “He would never do anything like that.”
“Why are you on his side? You’re my best friend. I’m telling you he did this, and you’re seriously going to tell me I’m lying? Okay, Lauren…” I straighten, my face reddening with anger. My adrenaline causes my hands to start shaking at my side. I clench my fists tighter to hide the shaking, “If it wasn’t Sander than who did it?”
She glares at me. Her entire body shakes with anger like mine. Her face is squished up, which usually makes me laugh when she’s mad at someone else, but right now it just makes me want to slap her. She walks straight up to me; I can feel the heat of her breath on my cheek.
“It wasn’t Sander. That’s all I have to know.” She grabs her purse and rushes out the door.
At least I don’t feel like crying right now. Instead, I feel like punching and throwing anything and everything I can find in our room. I’ve never been as infuriated as I am right now. The best friend that I’ve had since I was ten years old doesn’t believe me. She actually thinks I would make something that horrendous up on my own. And for what reason? To make her feel bad for me? I would never do that. I would never want fake sympathy. I don’t even want her sympathy now. I assumed since she cares about Sander, she might want to help me confront him about his drug and alcohol problem. Instead she took our friendship, rolled it into a messy piece of trash, spit on it, and threw it across the room. It probably landed in dog shit. Then she lit that sucker on fire, saying, “Fuck you, Lilly.” Yup, that’s about how that felt.
Lauren didn’t come home Friday night, and I didn’t hear from Sander. Maybe he did remember what happened the night before and was embarrassed by what he did. Or maybe he’s still so freaking high that he can’t remember what his name is, let alone who his girlfriend is.
I planned on calling him the night after the clash and trying to meet up with him, but the overwhelming desire of having him call and beg for my forgiveness, to tell me he would change, was too much that I couldn’t give in. Instead, I decided to wait to hear from him. I was sure he would call me Friday night. He didn’t. He didn’t call or show up.
Now it’s Saturday, and loneliness is starting to creep its way into my heart. I’m worried about him. Am I mad? Of course I’m mad. He scared me half to death, but I’m more than just scared—I’m worried if he’s okay. What if he overdoses? What if something serious has happened, but no one can help him? I don’t even know where to look for him. He could be in his dorm room still, but I feel an unsettling drop in my stomach even considering the idea of going back to that room with him and Bryan. I wouldn’t have anyone to watch my back just in case Sander still isn’t in the right state of mind.
I repeatedly pick up my phone to check the screen and flip through my text messages to see if either of them have tried to contact me. It proves pointless. I receive a few texts from Colton checking on me, making sure everything is okay. I appreciate it, but every time my phone dings I jump, expecting it to be Sander.
It’s been nearly forty-eight hours since the incident in Sander’s room. After the final text with Colton a couple hours ago, I decide I can’t take sitting around anymore and call Clarissa. I am meeting her at the library near the café.
I’m pretty sure that Colton hasn’t told her what happened, because she only seemed excited to meet up with me. There is a stark contrast between her voice and the worried voice I heard over the phone when Colton called me at the beginning of the day. I debate on whether or not I should tell her. I want to. Man, I really want too. I need a girl to talk with about Lauren and Sander. Yet there’s this layer of fear settling over my body—a fear that, just like Lauren, Clarissa won’t believe me. Rationally, I know that won’t happen. Clarissa doesn’t even know Sander, so why would she choose to believe I would lie to her instead of trusting what I say?
Since Lauren ran out on me last night, I use the time to ponder why Lauren would react the way she did. There has to be a reason for Lauren to turn her back on me the way she did. I’ve come up with one reason and one reason only. Lauren is only reacting this way because she doesn’t want to believe that Sander could do such a thing. Picturing one best friend hurting your other best friend cannot be easy to swallow. It’s hard for me to not just sweep the entire problem under the rug and pretend like it didn’t happen, because in my heart I can’t believe Sander would do that to me either.
But he did.
He’s doing drugs, he’s drinking all the time, and now he’s put his hands on me. I have to give Lauren time to calm down and come to me. She’ll be ready to listen to me when it’s on her terms.
That doesn’t make the deeply grounded loneliness that has formed in the very pits of my gut any easier to bear. I’m finding it difficult to smile. I haven’t laughed in two days. I feel like a puppy that has been kicked not just once, but twice. Once by the man that I’ve trusted with my entire heart and the other kick came out of nowhere and that blow was devastating. I never expected my best friend; the person that is supposed to stand by my side, laugh with me, sympathize with me, get angry when someone has done me wrong—to take a metaphorical knife and dive into my back with it.
I drive up to the library mentally shaking the thoughts of Lau
ren and Sander out of my head. I find Clarissa in line at the café ordering a cappuccino. I follow suit and step in line behind her. She sees me walk over to her, and a huge grin crosses her face.
“Hey! It’s been a few days! How are you? How was your first week of classes?”
I hug her and give a small smile. I order myself a white mocha frappuccino, and we both start walking to a table in a secluded area.
“I’ve been okay. Classes are good. Anatomy is going to kill me,” I complain.
She shakes her head and takes sip of her steaming cup. “Have you been having fun the past few days?” I wonder.
I take a bottomless breath and revel in the warm scent of coffee beans and sweet treats. The café is lit up by dim lighting. I usually prefer my café’s to have windows letting in natural light. Still, the soft hues of the light make the place feel warm, cozy.
“Uhm… Not really,” I say stiffly and fidget in my wooden seat.
Clarissa’s face quickly loses its smile and her eyes narrow, lips turned down. “Well what happened?” she asks.
I shift in my chair again and look down at my hands. “I went to go see Sander Thursday.”
She nods. “That’s a good thing right? You guys haven’t spent much time together since you moved here.”
“Yeah it was fantastic,” I say sarcastically.
Clarissa’s eyebrows draw together in puzzlement. “Have you really not talked to Colton in the past two days? I figured he would have told you by now.”
“I saw Colton earlier today; he didn’t say anything, but he did seem distracted. What would Colton have to do with you and Sander?” She pauses and then a wry smile tugs on her lips. “Unless you and Colton…” She bounces her left eyebrow expectantly.
Oh dear. This is not going the way I planned. I put my hand to my forehead and let out a choked laugh. “Of course you would jump to that conclusion.” I pull my hand away and roll my eyes. “I told you, Colton and I are just friends.”
“Then I’m not following you,” she says, clearly disappointed.
I take a deep, shuttering breath and then tell her the entire story. I tell her how Lauren made me question whether or not Sander even wanted to be with me. I continue on about how excited I was to finally spend some time with Sander, and then how shocked I was to find him high off of God-only-knows-what. I painfully step through how he choked me, how I thought he wasn’t going to stop, and how he started forcing himself on me. I haven’t even told Colton about that part. I’m not going to either. Then I continue on with how Colton dropped everything to come and pick me up, how he was worried and not wanting to let me leave his sight that night. I finish the summary with how Lauren reacted when I told her what Sander had done.
The entire time I’m recalling the story I’m looking at my hands. I couldn’t look up into her eyes, worried that I would see the skepticism I saw in Lauren’s.
When I finish retelling the story, I sit, waiting. Clarissa doesn’t say a word, and after minutes pass, I begin to worry. Finally I force myself to look up and into her eyes. Her jaw is slack. Her blue eyes are wide and red rimmed. She believes me. I exhale with relief and wait.
Her lip trembles a moment and then she sucks in a loud gasp. “That son of bitch,” she says through clenched teeth.
“He’s not himself right now, Clarissa,” I say softly.
“Of course he’s not; he’s higher than a fucking kite!”
“Shhh!”
“I don’t care how high he is; it doesn’t change what he did. You can’t be around him until you know he’s not doing drugs anymore,” she says.
“Well who’s going to help him? Huh?” I retort.
“It’s not your job,” she says, closing her eyes and then opening them back up. “Listen, I get that you feel like you have to help him, because you are his girlfriend. If it were anything else, I would agree with you. But he hurt you. That changes everything. The best thing you can do now is to keep yourself safe and maybe call his parents.”
“If I call his parents, they will disown him.” I frown.
“They should help him.”
“Just because they should doesn’t mean that’s what they’ll do. Believe me, Clarissa. They won’t help; they’ll just throw him to the side and try to cover up the fact they ever had a son.”
She shakes her head, “How could a parent do that to their own child?”
“They have tons of money and have to look a certain way in their circle of followers. It’s really important to them to keep their status. It’s not right, but it’s how they have always been. Sander has always understood the importance of not screwing up. But something has happened, and now he doesn’t seem to care about anything anymore.” I rub at my eyes. “Not even me.” The magnitude of what I’ve said begins to sink in. Neither one of my best friends are there to help me.
“Stop it,” Clarissa says. “This is not your fault okay? Promise me you won’t see him yet. We will figure this out.”
I nod, lying just like I did to Colton when he told me to stay away from Sander. I would see Sander. I would talk to him. It is just a matter of when and how.
For the rest of our visit Clarissa did her best to take my mind off of Sander and Lauren. She did say a few choice words about Lauren not being a good friend. I didn’t correct her. Though I understood why Lauren reacted the way she did, I still felt like she was being a shitty friend to me. Clarissa brought up Colton a few different times—wondering if I was going to see him this week, if I would go to his house for Thirsty Thursday or the party he was having next weekend.
When I told her I would in all probability go to both parties, but I wasn’t sure when I’d be seeing Colton next, she sent a text to Colton asking if we could meet up with him in a few minutes. He, of course, said yes. I’m starting to realize that where Clarissa is concerned, Colton is willing to do just about anything. They really are best friends.
That has to be the reason why he has been so kind to me. The night of the party when I first met him, he didn’t make fun of me for not knowing how to shoot a snakebite. When I was upset and wanted to go home he walked me back and even took me out to grab something to eat and calm me down. He texted me. He invited me to his band’s gig. And then the biggest yet, he picked me up just a couple nights ago when I had no one else to call. The only reason he had for doing any of that is Clarissa. He cares about Clarissa, and I’m Clarissa’s new friend. He wants to make sure I’m happy so he can make Clarissa happy.
As I drive to Colton’s house my mind continues on with its never-ending thoughts.
I know what Clarissa is trying to do by having Colton and I spend time together. She made her intentions clear the very first night when I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. Now that she knows Sander’s and my problems are only getting worse, she’s going to try even harder. I feel the electricity between Colton and me. I can’t deny it, it’s there. But I also know that Colton is not interested in a relationship with me, nor am I needing or wanting one with him. I’m more worried about how to fix the one I’m already in, not throwing Sander to the curb and jumping into another one. No matter how good looking, sweet, and compassionate Colton may be.
All the guys are home. I know because I can hear them arguing over some video game. I’m pretty sure I hear someone yell at Chris for stealing the controller and running out back with it. I guess he really isn’t ready for his turn to be over.
We’re standing in Colton’s living room near the futon and chairs that are all angled towards the large flat screen television with a video game paused Clarissa walks in without knocking. I watch as the boys go running down the hall and out the back door after Chris. They’re jumping on top of each other; pushing and shoving trying to reach him first. I can’t help it; I guffaw. It doesn’t matter that I’ve been in a low mood recently, watching the guys act like 5 year old brothers is pretty healing.
Colton comes back down the hall, shaking his head. It looks like he has given up on trying to retriev
e the controller. He finds Clarissa and I smiling and laughing with each other about how they are all acting.
“Hey¸” Colton says and gives a quick hug and kiss on the cheek to Clarissa. He hugs me, and when he does, lifts me up slightly off the ground and then sets me back on the ground. His arms wrapped around me loosen and let me go; the warmth and comfort from his arms recede as he steps back. I miss the feeling already. I’m jealous of the kiss he gave Clarissa.
“How are you?” he says, looking openly into my eyes, causing a quake to run the length of my spine. He looks over at Clarissa, worried. I guess he really wasn’t going to tell her about what happened.
“I already told her,” I say.
His shoulders relax and he looks over at Clarissa and gives a weak smile. “Sorry. She asked me not to tell anyone.”
Clarissa moves closer to the both of us. “I get it. I’m glad you told me, Lilly.” She looks at me and then back to Colton. “I’m surprised you didn’t kick Sander’s ass,” she says, shocked.
“I didn’t know what happened until we got back here. She basically made me promise not do anything.” He shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have promised you that, Lilly. He deserves to have his ass kicked.”
I roll my eyes. It’s becoming a habit with Colton. “Colton, he’s not himself. Who knows what he would do if you went after him.”
He looks at me and then starts laughing. “You think he would hurt me?” He laughs again. “No. No, sweetheart, he wouldn’t hurt me.” Shaking his head, he looks at Clarissa, and she lets out a giggle. “It’s sweet that you were worried though.”
I look from Clarissa to Colton. My entire body warmed when Colton called me sweetheart, but I knew I was missing something.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing.” Colton gives a genuine smile. “You just don’t need to worry about me.”