Check that: she wondered why she had LET him do this to her. She could have left him. They’d been together for almost two years. He hadn’t started getting rough with her until about a year ago, but she had to wonder what signs she’d missed. There had to have been something that she’d ignored. She’d seen the Lifetime movies and read the quizzes in magazines. She’d never thought that they would apply to her though. Lila shook her head; she’d had plenty of time to wise up and break up with Tyler. But she’d stayed. And that frustrated her most of all.
Lila felt angry tears spill down her cheeks. She wiped them away quickly—she hated to cry. It felt so useless, so weak. Tyler hadn’t liked it when she cried, even when he was the one who picked and sniped at her until she was a weeping mess. Better to choke them back than to get into yet another argument with him. But these tears weren’t because of what he’d done to her. No, these were tears because she’d given him the power to do so.
She was ashamed of herself.
“Hey, wait up!” Gretchen’s voice came from somewhere behind her.
Lila stopped, surreptitiously wiping her face clear of tears. She didn’t want Gretchen to know how upset she’d gotten. Gretchen was the only one—outside of her mother—who knew what Tyler had done to her over the course of their last year together. Lila was beyond grateful to have someone who believed her and someone who kept her business private. She didn’t want to strain their friendship too much.
“You okay?” the blonde asked, not even the slightest bit winded from her run.
Lila nodded. “I’m fine. Just got a little crazy in there.” It was more than that, and they both knew it. Lila hated to be touched, couldn’t stand it, even from friends. Gretchen was probably the only one able to put an arm around her without her spazzing out, and even then, it wasn’t often. And Lila wouldn’t admit it, but tall well-built guys set off every warning bell she had. She didn’t like feeling vulnerable and that’s how being surrounded by rugby players and passed around like a sack of flour had made her feel.
Gretchen fell into step beside her, not saying anything. Lila skidded her Chucks along the pavement, making sure the shuffling noise filled the silence. She wanted to say sorry, but Gretchen hated to hear her apologize, especially for something she couldn’t help. Lila was trying to get better about feeling she didn’t have a right to be here, but it was not easy.
“We’re going to miss the elephant walk,” Lila observed quietly, as close to an apology as she could get.
Gretchen waved it away. “They’re probably going to get shut down any time now.” She pointed to the police cruiser heading in the direction of the rugby house. “Look.”
“They’ll just have to engage in their latent homosexual bonding practices another time,” Lila joked, surprising herself. It had been a while since she’d even thought to say something snarky or funny. Tyler hadn’t liked it when she sounded smart.
Gretchen laughed out loud. “Nice!” She shook her head. “I’ll have to remember to tell Ryan that one.” She winked at her roommate. “He refuses to admit that he gets off on manhandling other men. A clear case of denial if ever I saw one.”
Lila looked down at her feet, remembering the black-haired boy with the deep brown eyes. He was taller than Gretchen but with a rangy build. A runner’s build, she had thought when she’d met him, having seen enough runners from watching Gretchen’s races to pick out another one. He was good looking in a completely different way than Tyler, more quiet and less showy.
“Does Van play?”
Gretchen snorted. “Good God, no. He hangs with them because Ryan’s his best friend—they’ve known each other forever. Van wouldn’t be caught dead in a rugby scrum. The only reason he’s there is because Ryan may need someone to post bail.”
“That happen often?” Lila looked up at her roommate. “Van needing to bail him out?”
“Nah, not really. But Van likes to watch out for him. Keep him away from the serious trouble.”
Lila nodded as if she understood. She found it a little hard to wrap her head around what Gretchen had told her; Tyler’s teammates were always egging him on to do something bigger and stupider, usually involving public nudity or statuary. Sometimes both. They weren’t really interested in covering his ass. At least not if it meant ruining their good time.
Gretchen’s next question caught her off guard. “So? What’d you think?”
Lila’s brows drew down in confusion. “About the party? A little too wild for my tastes.” She’d been to parties like that with Tyler when they’d been at State, but those usually had never ended well for either of them. Images of torn clothes, thrown drinks, angry faces, and raised fists flashed through Lila’s brain. She shook them off and focused on the present, on her friend walking beside her.
“No, Lila. What did you think about Van?” Gretchen shook her head at Lila’s hopelessness.
She gave a shrug. Lila was not ready to even think about a guy in any terms beyond “dangerous” and “not dangerous.” Not when she was as broken as she was. She missed the girl she’d been suddenly, feeling like a huge gulf had opened up in her chest. The girl before Tyler would have laughed and dished on boys and flirted and enjoyed herself. This girl—the one she was now—wasn’t the outgoing, happy girl she used to be.
This girl was damaged goods.
This girl wanted to be that other girl so very badly, she ached with it.
“He seemed nice. Does he run marathons, like you?” Lila thought it best to change the subject.
“Yep. We met last year on cross-country. We do some training together. He’s a total doll.”
Lila smiled. “You thinking of switching teams?” she teased her friend. Gretchen had figured out she was gay in middle school. The idea of her liking a boy was beyond strange.
Gretchen bumped into her. “Not on your life,” she assured Lila, laughing. “Shonda would kill me if she caught me getting flirty with some boy.”
Lila stiffened, the words ringing hollow in her ears. Tyler had said those words to her once. The trouble was that he’d meant them. She forced her shoulders to stop hovering around her ears in anticipation of a blow that never came and she took a deep breath. “When will I get to meet her?” she asked instead of saying what was bothering her. She’d heard tales of the volatile, gorgeous Shonda over the summer. Lila couldn’t wait to meet the girl Gretchen had fallen so hard for.
Shonda was Gretchen’s sometimes there, sometimes not girlfriend. They seemed to have a fluid relationship from everything that Gretchen had told Lila. They argued about practically everything. But she made Gretchen happy and that was all Lila cared about.
“Soon, soon.” Gretchen jumped up to touch a tree branch high above them. She landed with barely any sound. They walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Then Gretchen spoke, “Look Lila, I’m sorry for what happened in there. Ryan is usually a good guy, but when he’s around his rugby buddies, he can become a world class jackass.”
Lila held her newly healed arm in her other one and tried not to think of the panic that she felt being lifted and carried around like some kind of Cro Mag trophy. She hated feeling like she was powerless; it brought back too many memories of her relationship with Tyler. “I told you it was no big deal.”
Gretchen stopped walking, lightly touching Lila on the arm so she would stop as well. Her blue eyes were wide and surprisingly gentle when they met Lila’s. “It is a big deal,” she said quietly. “You don’t have to pretend everything is okay. You understand that, right?”
Lila stood in front of Gretchen feeling like she’d swallowed a bowling ball. She didn’t want to admit how not-right everything was inside her. How she felt stupid and ugly and worthless, and how lucky she was to have found someone to put up with her—or at least that was what Tyler had told her in their not quite two years together.
Gretchen tried to take her hand, but Lila moved out of reach. “He put you in the hospital,” she said, as if giving Lila permission to brea
k down.
“I really don’t want to talk about it,” she said, feeling the words come through numb lips. She didn’t want to think about that afternoon, let alone say it out loud. She hadn’t told anyone the full story of what happened and she didn’t plan on doing it out in the open like this. She didn’t plan on doing it ever.
“Okay.” Gretchen began walking again, her pace slow so that she wouldn’t get too far ahead.
Lila matched her stride, staring out at the parked cars and the squat buildings of the college across the street. She was trying to make a new start here; the start she should have made a year ago.
She hoped it would be a good one.
Chapter Four
Van held the door to the coffee shop open for Gretchen, then followed her through. It was the first full week of classes and he was still trying to figure out the optimum times to score his caffeine. He had a few minutes between his two afternoon classes, so he’d swung by to see if he would have enough time to make this a regular stop in his routine.
“Hey Van,” a voice called from a table to his right.
He turned, plastering a smile on his face. He recognized the voice. It belonged to Tara—she of the ridiculously long legs and the Manson eyes. They’d gone out a couple of times, Van had slept with her, she had gone a little bit crazy with the calling and the texting and the general stalkery goodness, and Van had summarily dumped her ass like a hot rock. And by “dumping,” he meant avoiding any interaction with her and walking very quickly in the other direction when he noticed her anywhere near his vicinity. He’d never had the actual conversation with her.
He didn’t like confrontations with crazy women. He’d had too many already.
“Oh, hey Tara.” He tried to sound relaxed and not at all like he wanted to bolt out of Java Joe’s front door. “How’s it going?”
“Things are good,” she said, tossing her strawberry blonde hair back over her shoulder. “So what have you been up to?”
He grimaced and checked his watch. “Not much. Look, I’ve got to run—I just came in to snag a coffee before class—but we’ll talk soon, okay?”
Her eyes hardened into flint. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.” She resumed talking to her friend.
With a barely audible sigh of relief, Van made his way to the counter where Gretchen stood talking to Lila. He stood next to G-Love, grateful to have an excuse to avoid talking to Tara. She’d been fun for a few nights, but things got too serious with her way too fast. Van didn’t do serious.
He looked over at Lila, giving her an easy grin. “I’ll take the biggest coffee you got. And add a shot of espresso.”
“Sure thing.” She moved to the large espresso machine, which gave Van the chance to watch her without her noticing.
She wore a black Java Joe’s shirt and jeans. Nothing special, but her jeans hugged her curves like a second skin. Lila wore minimal makeup, and her dark hair was pulled away from her face. A flush colored her cheeks from the heat of the frother, painting her pale skin with pink.
He frowned. With her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, Donovan could see a jagged scar that ran from her temple into her hairline. It was still pretty red, so he knew it was recent. “That’s some scar. What happened?” he asked before he could think about what he was saying.
She looked up, startled, and the light in her eyes dimmed. She dropped her gaze back to his cup as she passed it to him, refusing to look at him again. “Nothing,” she said, her hands suddenly busy with the lids of the coffee cups. “I fell.”
Gretchen made a coughing sound behind him and Lila shot her friend a look. Van raised his eyebrows, but neither of them explained what the hell was going on. He got the distinct impression that this was not a topic of conversation either of them was going to allow to continue. He looked curiously at Lila as he doctored his coffee with sugar, noting how graceful her long fingers looked as she stacked and sorted cup sizes into their proper stacks. As he watched, he noticed that one of the fingers on her left hand looked strangely stiff and a little out of joint.
Lila caught him looking and stopped messing with the lids, shoving her hands in the pockets of her apron. He smiled at her, trying to get that spark to reappear, but her eyes remained remote. “Thanks for the coffee,” he said, giving her a wave before heading out the door. He took a sip and smirked. Girl could make a strong brew.
Gretchen joined him after a few moments, catching up with him easily. She too had a coffee cup clutched in one fist. “Which way you heading?” she asked.
“Bailey Hall.” He glanced over at her. “You?”
“Coen.” She matched his stride. “Who was that girl when you first came in?”
Van sighed, taking a sip of his latte to buy him some time before answering. “Just some girl from last year.”
“She was cute.” Gretchen’s voice was carefully neutral.
Van shrugged. He didn’t want to think about Tara. He was more curious about how Lila got such a wicked scar. “Yeah. But I wouldn’t touch her again with someone else’s junk.” He looked around cautiously, as if afraid Tara was going to pop out from a nearby manhole.
He saw Gretchen giving him an assessing look. Even Ryan couldn’t read him like Gretchen could. Sometimes he thought she was a psychic with how she seemed to know everything that was on his mind without him having to say a word. She even seemed to know the kind of girls he’d be attracted to and had tried to snake them from him at parties just for fun.
“How was your break?” she asked, surprising him with the change in subject. “How are things at home?”
Van watched the faces of those that passed by him, unsure of what to say. Gretchen knew about how things were with his mother, how she was doped to her eyeballs most of the time, self-medicating herself to deal with depression and whatever else was wrong with her. “I worked a lot. Made some good money.”
“That’s cool,” was all she said, clearly willing to wait.
“That’s not what you meant, was it?” He swigged down a swallow of his coffee.
“I’m just listening while we walk to class. What you tell me is up to you.” Gretchen didn’t look at him, as if she knew that to directly confront him practically assured that he would clam up.
“Fine,” he said, running his free hand through his dark hair. “It sucked.” He paused, swallowing painfully past a sudden lump in his throat. “My mom’s getting worse.” That was all he was willing to say about it. He didn’t want to tell Gretchen about the effort it took to get her out of bed and off to work, about the times she flat out refused to move. He didn’t need to tell her about his mother’s calls to his cell phone, desperate for him to come home, to come and get her pills, her lunch, her slippers.
He’d stayed away from the house as much as he could, sleeping on friends’ couches and in spare rooms. He tried to go home only when he knew that his mom had already left. He’d come back to school as soon as he could move into his apartment.
“That sucks.” She didn’t offer platitudes or advice. That’s what Van liked about Gretchen. She didn’t try to solve his problems. She just listened.
Some things didn’t have a solution.
Chapter Five
Donovan sat at a small table in the cafe close to campus. It was open mic night so a few of the local singers and acoustic bands had set themselves up on the makeshift stage between the stairs leading to the upper floor and the bathrooms. He’d gotten there early to save a seat for Ryan, who would be swinging by after practice.
He waved to a few people he knew who came in, watching as they headed upstairs where the couches were. Van rifled through his backpack to pull out the novel he had to finish for his American Studies class. He’d just opened it when Ryan dumped his stuff down in the chair beside him. He was dripping wet from rugby practice and mud covered one leg and most of his shorts.
“Dude, I thought you’d at least shower.” Donovan pulled himself upright in his chair.
Ryan laughed. “I look and smell like
a real man, bud. Think of all of the manly pheromones I’m putting out there with this sweat. Girls will flock to me, mark my words.”
“On their way to buy you some deodorant, maybe,” he rebutted.
“My words! Mark them!” Ryan pointed a finger in his friend’s face.
Donovan put his hands up in defeat. At the very least they’d probably not have to worry about people horning in on their space. Ryan was ripe enough to clear a room. “Fine, dude. Fine. They’ve been marked.”
Ryan left to hit the head and Donovan let his eyes drift around the room. It was a large rectangle with an alcove cut into the wall to house a small band or open mic stage. Round wooden tables and cheap cane back chairs dotted the lower floor, what wasn’t taken up by the small bar and beer and soda display. The work of local artists hung on the walls, available for purchase, not that anyone ever did.
“Gretchen!” a girl’s voice shouted from somewhere above him. He looked up to see Lila waving at the tall blonde who had just entered the joint.
“Hey! Be right up,” Gretchen shouted back to be heard over the din of the musicians setting up. She saw Donovan, threw him a wave, and then proceeded to the cooler to grab a soda.
Ryan met Gretchen at the bar where she waited to pay. Van watched Ryan say something to Gretchen that made her laugh. Then she pointed upstairs. He nodded then rejoined Donovan at their table. He began gathering up his stuff.
“Where are you going?”
“We’re going to sit with the girls.” Ryan juggled his rugby bag, his backpack, and his dripping bottle of water.
“We are?” He was surprised, especially since Gretchen hadn’t invited him directly.
“Gretchen invited us to join her. And Lila’s up there.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Van.
“So?” He tried to sound casual, but from the moment he’d heard her call to G-Love, he’d wanted to head upstairs and talk to her.
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