Remembering Us

by Stacey Lynn

  “I’m beat.” I hide a yawn and begin adding up the credit card receipts.

  “There’s a band playing tonight at a small rock club just outside Denver. Would you and Adam want to come with me and Benjamin?”

  I give her a strange look. “You and Benjamin?”

  She laughs. “Yeah, we’ve been together forever. Since we were kids, practically.”

  I can’t hide my shock, and based on her laugh, she’s used to it. “But he’s so … normal looking.”

  “Hey!” She slaps me with the towel in her hands and laughs with me. “I’m more than a pierced freak with purple hair.”

  I know she is, and I know she’s teasing. But Benjamin?

  He seems so straight-laced. Like he’d prefer a night at the Opera or a classical music performance. Preston looks like she belongs in a mosh pit. He’s quiet; shy almost. And Preston, well, she’s anything but. Talk about opposites attract.

  I may be exhausted, but out of morbid curiosity, I want to see them together in public.

  “All right,” I tell her, and pull out my cell phone. I send Adam a text asking if he wants to go out with Preston and Benjamin for the night.

  “You’re just going to see what we’re like in public, aren’t you?”

  Heat infuses my cheeks. “Maybe.”

  She rolls her eyes. “God, you’re horrible. You were like this when you first started working here, too. All wide-eyed and nervous to be around me and the stoners who come in. You changed a lot, you know.”

  I look at my phone to see if Adam responded. Also because this conversation makes me nervous.

  Preston never talks about me before the accident.

  “How so?” I finally ask.

  She looks to the ceiling like she’s thinking and plays with her hot pink and purple striped ponytail. The skulls are gone from her finger tips and replaced with hot pink daisies.

  “You were … sad the first day you came in. But yet, I don’t know … there was something about you that made me want to hire you right away. Like you were trying to experience something new or fighting to get somewhere.”

  “That’s deep.” I grin, but my hands are shaking.

  Was I always that obvious to everyone who saw me? Just some lost girl walking around following a path she didn’t want but not knowing what other road to choose?

  “Shut up. It’s true though. How much have you remembered?”

  I shrug. “Not much. Not about that anyway. I know my parents and I aren’t close anymore. Or, farther apart than we used to be, and I know I turned down the job my dad got for me.”

  She nods like she knew this.

  I’m guessing she did, her and I being best co-worker friends and all.

  “The day you came in here you threw down your resume and after I looked at it, you pressed your hands on the bar, looked me straight in the eye, and said, ‘Listen. I know I don’t seem like the type to work in a coffee bar, but I’ll be the best manager you could ever hire. I need this job. I need to do something just for me and prove to everyone who wants something from me that I can be successful on my own.’”

  My entire body is shaking. I can’t believe I would be so bold, but Preston is smiling at me like it was the greatest day of her life.

  “What did you say?”

  “Welcome to the club.”

  She hops off the barstool to go finish cleaning the back room, leaving me alone to wonder what she means.

  I’m just putting the money in the safe to lock up for the night when my phone vibrates.

  Adam: You sure you want to go with me?

  I know my answer before I have to think about it.

  Me: Yes. How opposite are Preston and Benjamin?

  Adam: This is going to be fun. I’ll be there in ten.

  I close my phone. Then I change into an extra tank top Preston has for me in the back room so I don’t have to wear Hooka’s plastered across my chest all night long.

  It turns out that Preston and Benjamin aren’t that opposite at all. When we show up to People’s Bar where a local heavy rock band is playing, I almost don’t recognize him.

  He has on black skinny jeans and heavy metal chains hanging from his pockets, black onyx rings on his fingers, a nose piercing that is connected to a chain from his nose to his right ear, and his eyes are lined in a dark black eyeliner. His light blonde hair that is usually parted in a preppy way is spiked straight up into the air and out to the sides in clumps. And it’s a lime green color that is completely opposite from Preston’s bright colors, yet complimentary in the same way. I realize it’s probably the perfect metaphor for the entire relationship.

  Apparently Benjamin doesn’t feel the need to assert his alternative rock personality at all hours of the day, and instead is happier looking like the shy, pretty boy type when he’s at work.

  I was totally fooled.

  My cheeks turn a dark maroon color, my chest and neck feel splotchy from the embarrassed heat when everyone turns to me and dies laughing at my shock at seeing his transformation into someone that I would have considered as Benjamin’s evil twin brother.

  But the night is a blast. We jump around to the ear-splitting music that is too loud to really talk in. Adam and I don’t touch except for the occasional brush of our hands or legs when we bump into each other. I stick with water, still slightly hung over from the night before, and am pleasantly surprised to see Adam do the same thing.

  As the band plays their final song, I take a break from the jumping to lean back against our table and enjoy the night.

  My hair is so sweaty it’s sticking to my neck and my tank top is plastered against every inch of my skin. I can even feel the sweat inside my red Doc Marten boots.

  But even so, I’ve been having fun all night, getting lost to the screaming musicians who, even though I don’t quite appreciate the type of music, have an incredible sound.

  We lost Benjamin and Preston hours ago to the mosh pit down by the front of stage. Occasionally I’ve been able to get glimpses of Preston jumping around, but it’s felt like Adam and I have been on our own all night.

  “You ready to get out of here?” he asks, his breath tickling my ear.

  I nod, unsure if I can speak.

  When I turn to him, I’m thankful we didn’t have any drinks tonight. The pull I felt last night is even stronger when I can feel all my senses.

  The callused pads of his fingers as they trail down my arm before lacing our hands together, the smell of his cologne. It’s so powerful, and I stare at him, nodding, even though I’m no longer sure if he even asked me a question.

  He smiles at me like he knows how flustered I am.

  And I bet he does.

  “Let’s go,” he says, and tugs me out the door, barely giving me enough time to grab my purse before following him out the door.

  I kick off my boots and drop my purse on the floor as soon as we get to our apartment and head for the fridge for some water. When I turn around, Adam is standing in front of the windows looking out at the dark night sky with his hands in his front pockets. He looks lost in thought, and I frown, watching him.

  He turns to me and rubs his lips together. “I need to tell you something.”

  I freeze.

  The plastic top of the water bottle stops at my bottom lip and I can’t take my eyes off him. His face is downcast, staring at the slightly stained carpet, and his shoulders are rounded forward.

  “Okay.”

  “Sit down on the couch.”

  I bristle at the coldness of his voice, but he doesn’t notice.

  Adam doesn’t look at me at all. He turns back to the windows and stares out in the darkness that is sprinkled with street lights, but not enough light to really see anything.

  I settle on the couch furthest from him and pull my knees up to my chest, hugging them with my arms.

  Somehow I feel the need to protect myself from whatever is coming my way.

  He blows out a forced breath through his lips and rubs
his hands through his hair. I can see him looking at my reflection in the window, but I don’t think he’s trying to see me. He looks like he’s trying to avoid me completely.

  When he speaks, his voice breaks; tripping over the words.

  “When I was ten, I watched my dad kill my mom.”

  My mouth drops open and freezes in a perfect “o” shape. Nerves dance across my skin. I unwrap my arms from my knees, shaking them out, but it doesn’t take away the buzzing feeling that’s moving all over me.

  “What?” I croak, and Adam shakes his head.

  Slowly, Adam pulls his eyes to mine as silence falls into every corner of our apartment. He sees my fear written all over my face and I catch a glimpse of a similar look in his own. His voice breaks and from across the open space I see his eyes fill with tears.

  “This is why I didn’t want to tell you … not when …”

  “I’m not sure I trust you,” I finish for him.

  He blanches at my bluntness and then nods. “You thought I hurt you that night. With Jared. How am I supposed to tell you where I come from when you think I’m as evil as the man who created me?”

  I bite my bottom lip, trying to find something to say to ease his concern. I can’t though. He’s absolutely right.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  He closes his eyes, sighs, and then slowly walks toward me on the couch. I scoot back to the end of the couch until I hit the armrest while he takes a few more steps closer.

  He presses his tongue against his teeth then takes a seat on the love seat across from me. I feel both relief and regret as I watch him sit down with such a pained expression all over him.

  “My dad was a drunk and he beat my mom. A lot.”

  He swallows, and I see the ghosts of his past dancing across his eyes.

  “He came home one night, blaming her for losing his job. They argued and he threw her down the stairs.” Tears drop down his cheek shamelessly, and my feet are moving before I can tell them to stop.

  I take a seat next to him, placing my hand over his. He smiles sadly at my hand and then looks me in the eyes.

  “She broke her neck and died instantly. He went to prison and my mom’s parents took me in.”

  I squeeze my hand against his, offering him the smallest amount of comfort I can.

  If it were anyone else, I’d have my arms wrapped around them, but I can’t do it.

  He looks straight into my eyes, reading my mind.

  “I am not my dad, Amy. I have a quick trigger temper, and I may get mad and throw something, but I have not and will never hurt you.”

  I look down at our hands, the intensity in his eyes is too much for me to handle. I’m calm, I think.

  Somehow, even when I’m afraid, his touch has calmed me. But he’s also right because I don’t trust him. Not fully.

  I don’t know how those two things can happen at the same time.

  I blink back the tears of confusion swirling in my head.

  He looks wary, suspicious and frightened at the same time. He lets me see it all, and I am thankful. This is the most honest and open we have been with one another and it hasn’t ended in an argument. I will take the victory.

  I nod and a faint hint of a smile touches my lips. “Okay.”

  A line appears between his eyes. “Okay?”

  “Yeah,” I blow out a slow breath. “Did you tell me this before?”

  His eyes shift around the room.

  By now I know there’s something he’s hiding from me, something he’s not telling me, but I allow it tonight because I can see how painful it is for him to bring up the small amount he told me.

  “I did. And then your parents found out and wanted you to leave me. Said I wasn’t good enough for you.” He smiles sadly. “I can’t say I blame them. I’m not. But I’m also smart enough to never want you to go.”

  “Is that why they don’t like you?”

  “Probably. I never cared too much about what they thought as long as it didn’t change what you thought.”

  “Did it? I mean, I’m here, but yet, they won’t even talk to me anymore.”

  Adam squeezes my hand and I turn to him so I’m facing him completely. His thumb lightly brushes over the knuckles on my skin, warming it and sending a different buzzing sensation through me.

  “I think,” he starts and rubs one hand through his hair. “I think they’re more resigned than anything. They knew I wasn’t leaving and they got tired of arguing with you about it.”

  I consider this and it only takes me a second to realize he’s probably telling the truth.

  The backing down doesn’t sound much like my parents to me, but maybe my mom’s way of refusing to return to my recent calls and her silence at dinner is her way of punishing me. Like when she didn’t talk to me about quitting dance.

  “Come on,” Adam says, and pulls me to my feet before I can dwell it for too long. “It’s late and I didn’t mean to drop this all in your lap tonight.”

  I follow him down the hall, stopping at my doorway before staring at the door to his room – our old room.

  “Why did you then?”

  “Because you deserve the truth, and I don’t want to lose you because I’m too afraid the truth will set your recovery further back.”

  I smile meekly. “Thank you.”

  And then I do something I don’t have to think about. I take a step forward and gently press my lips against his. It’s a quick kiss, and I barely feel his soft skin on mine before I step back.

  “Um …” I say, and nervously play with the hem of my tank top. “Yeah. Good night.”

  Adam bites his bottom lip and smiles. There’s a heat in his eyes and a playfulness in his look that says maybe he’s relishing his own small victory of the night.

  I duck into my room before I do something embarrassing like throw my arms around him just to feel his hard muscles against my skin again.

  Unfortunately, I’m too restless to sleep. I lay in bed for hours, tossing and turning. Every time I close my eyes, I think of what Adam told me about his parents and his dad. About how he was raised and somehow I understand the small things I know about him. I understand maybe why he sought love and attention from women, not caring how he treated girls. I understand his anger and the drinking.

  It’s all he’s ever known. I see glimpses of a man that could mean he’s trouble. Yet, I’m no longer afraid of him.

  Not for my safety, anyway.

  I just don’t trust him. My head might, but my heart doesn’t.

  But for the first time, I truly want to.

  He’s opening up to me in a way that I can tell is difficult for him. I can see it in the tenseness of his shoulders and the tightness of his lips when he thinks about his dad or relives the things I remember. He hates that I’ve seen him like that.

  And I hate that after a night of sharing what has to be difficult for him to talk about, I’ve left him alone.

  I don’t want him to be alone tonight any more than I’m tired of always feeling alone.

  Before I can talk myself out of it, I’m in the hallway and opening the door to the room I used to share with him.

  The only light is coming through the openings in the cheap, plastic vertical blinds by the window. I haven’t stepped foot in this room since Adam brought me home from the hospital and I adamantly declared I wasn’t sleeping in here. Not in this room with a stranger.

  I take another step into the room, the floor creaking underneath my feet, and Adam turns in the bed, facing the doorway.

  He props himself up on one elbow and then jumps out of the bed.

  “Ames? What is it?”

  I shift the weight on my feet, suddenly embarrassed and nervous that I’m even in here.

  “Did you have a dream?” he asks, and reaches for my arms.

  I tense under his touch.

  “No,” I say, my mouth and throat dry. I look into his eyes but all I see is the dark shadow of him in the room. I can’t tell what he’s t
hinking at all. “I was wondering if I could stay here.”

  His hands squeeze my arms and then relax. “Why? Are you sure you’re okay?”

  No, not really. I’m not. I don’t know why I’m here. Why I have a sudden urge to hold him and be close to him.

  “I don’t want to be alone.”

  He exhales loudly and I can see the outline of his shoulders relax. He rests his forehead on mine and wraps me in his arms.

  “Of course you can stay with me.”

  With my eyes closed, I let his deep and sleepy voice rumble over me, and my insides warm. I nod against him and move my arms so I can squeeze his hands.

  He walks me to the empty side of my bed and pulls back the covers and then crawls into bed next to me.

  “Can I hold you?” he asks, his voice as uncertain as I feel.

  I turn over onto my side and let Adam lay down next to me, wrapping his arms around me, and pulling me to him.

  “Thank you,” he murmurs into my hair, squeezing me tightly, just as I finally drift to sleep.

  “What in the fuck did you do to him?”

  I jump back at the venom in Zander’s voice. His anger pours out all over the place, filling the large entryway to the frat house. I’ve never seen his anger directed at me before. Hell, I’ve never seen anger like this from anyone before. Ever.

  His piercings and tattooed arms that are crossed tightly over his chest scare the shit out of me.

  “I … I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I jump at the sound of a loud crashing noise coming from upstairs and Zander glares at me.

  “He’s going ballistic and the only thing I can think to piss him off this much – is you. So tell me what in the hell happened last night.” He leans forward into my personal space until I back up against a wall. “What did you do to him?”

  “I didn’t do anything!” I scream, and take off toward the stairway, taking them two at a time, scared out of mind as to why Adam would be so upset.

  He can’t know that Brendan tried to kiss me again. I kneed him in the balls in the back hallway and there’s no way Brendan would tell him unless he wants to get his ass kicked.