If I Can't Have You

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If I Can't Have You Page 10

by Lauren Hammond


  The guy outside is Bobby Coulsen, a kid we’d gone to high school with. Well, he was more like a God at our high school. Every girl wanted him at one point during their high school career.

  But Whit…

  Whit had him. She’d dated Bobby Coulsen for six months our junior year and was envied by every girl in our entire school, me included.

  She’d once said, “I don’t why he likes me.”

  She might have not known, but I did. Not only was Whit beautiful with her long, strawberry blonde locks, flawless ivory skin, and child-like blue eyes, but she was fun, kind, and sweet. I’ll never forget the day Bobby Coulsen strolled up to our cafeteria table to talk to her. Whit was hardcore blushing (which is rare for her) and I almost choked on my turkey on wheat.

  Sadly, ‘The Bobby and Whitney Show’ didn’t last too long.

  And what was even worse was that he was her undoing. He’d cheated with some bitch on the cheerleading squad and Whit was devastated. She lost it after that. A lot of drunken benders. A lot of one night stands.

  “Did you know?” she asks with a trembling voice.

  “Did I know what?”

  “Did you know that he vacations here?”

  “No.” My eyes widen. “I’ve never seen him here before and I’ve been vacationing here practically my whole life.”

  And that’s the truth. Honestly though, it doesn’t surprise me that we’d seen someone we know here. It’s only hours away from our home town and a lot of people come here randomly in the summer.

  Whit and I are looking at each other and the sound of Bobby and the girl he’s with laughing echoes through the air and wafts toward us and Whit’s chest sinks and she starts sobbing again. In a flash, desperate to make the laughter disappear, I turn the car on and hit the power windows button. But the laughter doesn’t disappear. It presses on the glass and gets louder and louder and I think Whit might be sobbing harder purposely to drown it out.

  For a while I just hold her. I let her cry on my shoulder and run fingers through her hair, trying to comfort her. Part of me thought that Whit was over Bobby. He’d dumped her the summer before our senior year and every time I’d ask her if she was okay, she’d huff and say, “Okay, I’m great. That tool did me a favor.”

  Even though she said those things I knew that wasn’t true. She put up a good front, but I’d catch her staring at him all the time; in school, or at the mall, or at Friday night footballs games because he was the captain of the team.

  She’d always check his Facebook status to see where he was or what he was doing. And sometimes, she’d purposely jog past his house in the mornings just to get glimpse of him, getting ready for school in his bedroom window.

  You see Whit lost her virginity to Bobby, and it wasn’t long after he took that part of her that he cheated then dumped her for Jennifer Berger, the co-captain of the cheerleading squad. I’d kept a watchful eye on Whit during that time because every time she’d look at Bobby, I’d see the longing in her eyes. I’d see the pain in her eyes and I would have done anything to take it away.

  Eventually, even though it took some time she returned to her normal self, but I’d still see her give Bobby those longing looks and apparently I thought she was over him and she really isn’t. “Don’t you see,” she sniffles and digs her fists into her eyes. “Don’t you see why I’ve been so insistent about the whole “Drake” thing?”

  “What? Are you saying it’s because of Bobby?”

  Whit slouches in her seat, blows out some air and places her head against the window. “I don’t want you to end up like me.” She stares at me intensely. “Look at me.”

  “I am.”

  “No I mean really look at me,” she raises her voice. “I’m a wreck! A stupid, pathetic blubbering mess over a guy who cheated on me and dumped me over a year ago!”

  I shake my head. “You shouldn’t be blaming yourself.” I grab her hand and squeeze. “Nobody would have ever thought that Bobby would have turned out to be such a mega douche. He was very charming and deceiving.”

  “That’s exactly my point!”

  “Huh?” Now I’m confused. “What point are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about you being like me. Infatuated with someone who doesn’t give a crap about you and letting your whole universe revolve around them. Bobby never gave a fuck about my feelings. All he ever wanted to do was fool around or talk about football or talk about himself. I just tuned out all of the bad and pretended everything was good so that I didn’t have to face reality. Because reality sucks. And you know what the reality was; was that I was nothing to him, but a piece of ass.”

  “Whit, I—.”

  “Let me finish. I was a piece of ass and I had my heart broken and it will be a cold day in hell before I ever let that happen to you. It will be a cold day in hell before I let some jerk hurt you the way Bobby hurt me.”

  I’m elated and moved and I can’t even think straight. I’ve always known that Whit cared in her own off-kilter way, but this is deep. Abyss deep. “Come here.” I stretch my arms and pull Whit into a warm embrace. She cries into my shoulder and it’s weird that her saying all of that about Bobby makes me realize that she’s right…

  I’m worth more than being a piece of ass to some hottie and so is she.

  ~18~

  Some emotions don’t make a lot of noise. It’s hard to hear pride. Caring is faint, like a heart beat. And pure love, some days it’s so quiet you don’t even know it’s there. ~Author Uknown~

  Whit decides to turn in early. After today’s events I don’t blame her. Today was definitely an emotionally draining day.

  I lie down for a little bit, but can’t sleep so I decide to walk down to my spot to watch the sunset. Maybe it will take my mind off things or at least distract me for a little while.

  Walking out the front door, Mom passes me and catches me by the elbow. “Where ya going?”

  She lets go of me and I step away, walking backwards. “I was just gonna go watch the sunset.”

  She smiles. “We’re going into town with the Marshall’s. They’re having a firework display. You want to join?”

  “Thanks, mom. But I think I’m just going to stick with my own plan.”

  “Okay, sweetheart.” Mom waves and walks through the front door as I stroll away from the house.

  The sky is cloudless and I watch the seagulls as the whip through the miles of orange, yellow, and magenta. The sun hangs low, casting a shimmering reflection off the water and it looks like lightning bugs are resting along the surface. The sight of it relaxes me, soothes me, and sweeps me up into an embrace of ambiance.

  I sit close to the water. The waves are calm today and as a small one rolls into the sand with its white caps and fizzing bubbles it feels surprisingly warm against my skin. I shut my eyes and listen to the sounds of the roar of the crashing waves, feeling completely lost and calm, visualizing myself floating in the deep blue sea, not a care in the world.

  Keeping my eyes closed, I fall back onto the sand and spread my limbs out. The rough texture of the grains of sand is irritating yet calming at the same time. I feel like the sand is scratching away pieces of me. Every time a grain rubs against my skin it’s scraping off a new piece. First there’s hurt. Then regret. And who knows what will be next. Maybe foolishness.

  Footsteps plod into the sand and pull me from my thoughts. I sit up and open my eyes and glimpse over my shoulder, noticing a body moving toward me. “Whit?” I shout.

  Maybe she woke up and decided to come looking for me. Or maybe she decided she needed a distraction too.

  “No!” A deep beautiful voice shouts back. Not Whit. Then I see his perfect, white smile gleaming beneath the light of the moon as he comes into view. Elliot.

  Instinctively, I stand as Elliot picks up his pace and starts jogging toward me. He’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of hunter green board shorts. That’s the bad thing about being on vacation; hot ties always walk around flaunting their perfect
ly chiseled abs.

  Elliot is a hottie that I want to avoid at the moment, so I turn and start walking

  .

  He’s getting closer. “Hey!” His voice hangs in the night air. “Where are you going?”

  I ignore him and keep walking until he finally catches up to me. “Didn’t you hear me calling you?” He keeps up with me and walks next to me.

  “No.” A smug grin curls on his full pink lips and I know he knows I’m lying.

  “So it’s true then?” he asks as his breathing returns to normal.

  “So what’s true then?”

  “You are avoiding me.”

  “Not technically,” I say as I focus on the sky and marvel at how the colors have faded to a dull purple and deep navy blue. “You’re the one who keeps interrupting my private moments.”

  “In case you didn’t know this,” Elliot says, “This is a public beach.”

  I narrow my eyes and shake my head at his sarcastic comment. “I know.” I stare up at the stars. “But I can still have a private moment on a public beach.”

  “Well, excuse me,” he guffaws. “I’ll let you get back to that then.”

  Elliot turns to walk away and I grab him by the elbow. “Wait.” He freezes mid-turn and crooks me a demure smile. “Now that you’ve crashed the party you might as well stay for it.” I release my grip on his elbow and Elliot falls back in line with my steps.

  For about ten minutes neither one of us says anything. We both silently admire the stars burning, miles and miles away from us illuminating the heavens until Elliot cuts into the quiet and says, “So what’s your story?”

  “My story?”

  “Yeah.” He lets out a deep, throaty chuckle. “Tell me about yourself.”

  “I thought you knew all about me?” I question. “You know, “the kid” Drake saved from drowning once.”

  “Okay, so I know a little bit. I know you tend to walk into doors and people and I know my brother saved your life once. But that’s not enough. I want to know more.”

  “What do you want to know exactly?”

  “I don’t know.” He shrugs and I swear I see a twinkle in his pale blue eyes. “What are you majoring in in college?”

  “I’m pre-law, you?”

  “A lawyer, eh? You don’t strike me as the type.”

  “What? You have to be a specific type to be a lawyer?”

  “No.” He laughs. “You just don’t seem argumentative.”

  “I can be when I want to be.” I punch his arm playfully. “You never answered my question.”

  “Ah, yes.” He massages his chin with his forefinger and thumb, pretending to be scholarly. “I’m a biology major?”

  I fight the smile that’s working its way over my lips. “Really? You don’t strike me as the type.”

  We share a laugh and Elliot says, “Very funny.” Elliot breaks away from my gaze and stares out into the ocean. “You ever do anything spontaneous?”

  I’ve done spontaneous a few times. And one of my spontaneous moments was with his brother.

  I quirk an eyebrow. “Spontaneous as in—?”

  “Spontaneous as in swimming in the ocean in the dark.”

  I follow Elliot’s gaze out to the water. “Don’t you think that’s a little dangerous?” I point to a sign over my shoulder. “That sign says no swimming after sunset.”

  Elliot runs the tip of his tongue over his teeth, smiling devilishly. “We both know how good you are at reading the signs on the beach.”

  “Hey!” I snap.

  Elliot shrugs. “Why don’t you try living on the edge a little bit, Robin? I promise you, you’ll like it there.”

  I open my mouth to protest again, but in one swift motion, Elliot scoops me up, throws me over his shoulder, and makes a mad dash for the water. I loop my arm through his armpit, clinging on as tightly as I can. My head bobs up and down every time Elliot’s right foot then left foot plows into the sand and for a moment I think I’m going to be sick. I can feel my dinner inching its way up my esophagus, but before I can hurl, Elliot picks me up off his shoulder and chucks me into the water.

  I’m sailing through the air and everything seems to be moving in slow motion. My limbs flail. My shrill, high-pitched scream pierces the quiet night air. Finally a loud slap rings out as my bare back smacks against the surface of the water. The impact knocks the wind out of my lungs and sends a series of small pin-prick-like tingles through my skin. By the time I stand and wipe the water of my eyes my whole back is on fire, I’m soaked and I’m seething.

  The fact that Elliot is a foot in front of me, grunting and puckering his lips, trying to do everything he can to contain his laughter pisses me off even more. I lurch toward him, my heart beating with a vengeance and sneer, “You think this is funny?”

  “Funny,” he blurts out, finally letting the laughter he’s been holding in for the last three minutes. “It’s freaking hilarious!” Elliot chokes on a chuckle. “You should have seen your face.” Elliot mimics the way he thought I looked in mid-air, puffing out his cheeks and flapping his arms. “I thought you were going to crap yourself.”

  I feel a smile pulling on my lips and I fight it off, frowning. But as hard as I try to keep a straight face, I just can’t and as laughter explodes from my lips, I trudge through the luke warm water and lunge for Elliot’s waist, circling my arms around it and yanking him down into the water with me.

  I push his head under, still laughing and back away waiting for him to come up for air. A few seconds pass and Elliot doesn’t come up. I spin around in my spot, eyes on the water, trying to find air bubbles in the dark. Then a minute passes and I start panicking. “Elliot!” I go under and open my eyes and they sting from the salt and I can’t see anything but blackness surrounding me.

  Breaking the surface I call his name again. “Elliot!” The panic inside me has escalated into full blown fear and I can feel it working its way through my veins. “Elliot!”

  My heart is pounding. Constricting. Racing. I need to get help. What if something happened when I pushed him under? What if I was too forceful and I slammed my hand into the side of his head too hard?

  I start for the shore, panting, and a warm puddle of tears flood my eyes. And just as I’m about to step foot on the wet sand Elliot breaks the surface like a dolphin out of water and growls playfully. He slaps his fists against his chest like Tarzan and I turn slowly, facing him.

  Elliot howls with laughter and if he thought I was mad before he hasn’t seen anything yet. “You asshole!” I walk back toward him and point my finger. “You had me scared half to death! I thought you drowned or something!”

  “Easy,” Elliot says finally able to control his laughing. “Look at me.” He places his hands flat on his abs. “I’m fine.”

  I shake my head, growl, and scoop up an armful of water, splashing him in the face. “That wasn’t funny.” Then I pivot on heel and walk back toward the sand.

  “Come on!” Elliot calls after me. “I thought we were having fun!”

  Obviously Elliot and I have different ideas on how to have fun. “We were!” Then you had to go and ruin it.

  I’m out of the water and making my way back toward my house. Elliot’s legs kick up water and a loud splashing sound throbs in my ears. I want him to leave me alone—no—I hope he leaves me alone because realistically, I know Elliot leaving me alone for the rest of this vacation is a delusional fantasy.

  “Robin! Wait up!” I listen to the thud of Elliot’s footsteps against the sand and he sprints toward me.

  “No.”

  “Seriously. Would you cool it?” Elliot appears next to me. “I was just trying to have a little fun. It was only a joke.”

  “It was a sick joke.” The fear and hysteria he brought on in me still feels too fresh, too recent.

  “I’m sorry,” he tells me. “Is that what you want me to say? Because I mean it, I’m sorry.”

  I don’t want to hear his apology right now. There’s still some a
nger surging through me, pumping blood into my heart and the only thing I can think about is crashing for the night. I exhale. “It’s fine, Elliot.” I hope that maybe he can sense the exhaustion in my voice and will give it a rest for now.

  “Are you sure?” There’s an apprehensive tone to his voice. “Really, Robin. I thought you’d know I was joking.”

  What person in their right mind would think that was a joke? Yes, we were having fun, playing around in the water, but when a person goes under and doesn’t come up for minutes that automatically goes from horsing around to a serious situation. A life or death situation. I’d been there once myself, so maybe that’s why I’m not taking his so-called joke lightly. “Look, Elliot,” I say. “I’m tired. I’m just going to turn in for the night.”

 

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