by Riley Jean
I felt him flinch, then he straightened and crossed his arms. He probably didn’t want discuss her with me right now, but too bad.
“Well… Evelyn and I weren’t a Saturday night hookup. The way I see it, you feel this way for one of two reasons.”
“Okay?” I prompted, hopeful Vance would have the answer.
“One: you don’t want him, but you don’t want anyone else to have him. You’re jealous that he found someone to be with for one night. You want him to be just as alone as you feel.”
Yikes. Was that it? That had to be one of the most selfish things I’d ever heard.
“Or two: you don’t want him as your boyfriend, but you care about him. You want him to be happy. You wish he found somebody that made his life a little less lonely. But you know that person isn’t Lexi.”
Hmm. I liked that option better. It made me less of a bitch.
“What do you think?” I finally looked at him, curious for his opinion of me.
“You once told me that couples make you happy,” he said. “Would you be happy for Ricky if he fell in love?”
I tried to picture it… Ricky smiling and in love. His arms wrapped around a girl who knew the real Ricky, like I did, but was able to heal his hurt and fight his demons all in one passionate kiss…
Would I be happy for him? I’d like to think so.
“But what if I do want him?” I asked, unable to look at my friend. I couldn’t help but notice he left out that scenario.
“I don’t think you do,” he said quietly.
“How can you be sure? I feel… jealousy, or betrayal or something. I’m still confused.”
He was quiet for another long moment, fully measuring his words before he answered.
“I think what you’re really asking yourself is, why her? He knows how much Lexi made your life hell. He used to have your back and he always put you first. You wonder if he really cares about you, how could he do that? Being with her is like condoning every horrible thing she’s ever put you through. That’s why you feel betrayed.”
I laughed at his astuteness. “I thought you said you didn’t speak girl. But you seem to know exactly how we think.”
“I’m beginning to understand your relationship better now. Maybe you were right, it’s not sexual. But it’s more than just friendship. I think you two are codependent.”
Oh snap. He was right. All those months after I moved back home, I thought I could resist falling back into old habits by avoiding certain temptations. Still, I was letting Ricky fill that void for me, using him to escape my problems instead of dealing with them directly. And he had grown used to me depending on him.
“You think you need him. And he needs you to need him. But you don’t want him. At least, not like that. When you love someone, you know it. You don’t have to wonder. You don’t need anyone to interpret. Real love isn’t an emotion of confusion. You just… know.”
I shook my head at myself. He was right. Why was I acting like a middle schooler? I’d been out of the game for a while, but it wasn’t like I’d never felt attraction before. I remembered the way my pulse raced the first time Nathan kissed me. And I remembered how Miles made me feel like the center of his world. And I remembered…
My eyes closed. I never let myself dwell on thoughts of him.
Now the memories had grown fuzzy. But even so, I could still recall the blueness of his eyes, the sound of his voice and the exact feel of his skin. I remembered what my heart had felt the first time I ever laid eyes on him, and it wasn’t this. Although Ricky’s kiss had been tender and sweet, it didn’t make my heart grow wings or leave me breathless. And according to Vance, that was enough of an answer.
Vance…
I looked over at him with a grateful smile. Tonight I had learned to appreciate how direct he was. When he felt something, he said it. When I had doubts, he offered reassurance. For some reason, I’d made everything seem so complicated between us, when in moments like this, I realized how simple it really was.
As if he could sense the shift in my mood, Vance put an arm around my shoulders and squeezed me to him. I tensed for a moment before I let myself relax into his embrace. We both looked up into the stars again, but this time it wasn’t for a distraction. The clouds had shifted, and there, twinkling above us, was my new favorite constellation.
“Don’t worry, Rosie. You’ve got your friends. Whatever you’re confused about… you’ll figure it out. You’ll get through it. I promise.”
I grinned at the stars in awe. The way he set aside his feelings to be the friend that I needed… that he could put my happiness in front of his own… it dawned on me that he really did just want to see me happy. He was just as steadfast as the stars.
Another little piece of my wall crumbled to the ground.
“Thanks, Vance.”
I could practically hear his smile. “Anytime.”
* * *
[Journal]
Tonight a wise man told me people function with a balance of both heart and mind. This is how we see the world, how we make decisions, how we react to life. Generally people use some combination of both, usually leaning more to one side than the other.
The question is: What’s the ideal ratio?
As I’ve grown older, I’ve shied away from relying on my heart. It’s part of growing up, I suppose. As our hormone levels balance, we learn that focusing on emotions does not give us the most logical or practical perspective. And that emotional reactions can make life unnecessarily dramatic and complicated. Following my heart has never proved sensible in my experience.
In contrast, your mind helps you to think objectively. It helps you make the right decisions to pursue the greatest good for all parties involved, beyond what feels good in the moment. When the heart cries “it’s not fair!” the mind reminds you “no, but it goes on.”
I’d convinced myself that this philosophy of mind-over-heart was the cure-all to thinking and behavior. However, I finally discovered its downside.
Passion.
I’m getting by… most days. I’m even content. But I’m not feeling any of it. And at first I liked how that felt—not to feel. But here’s the disadvantage: I’ve also surrendered the good parts. Like joy. And tenderness. And love.
I’ve wandered far from an ideal balance of heart and mind. I’ve disconnected myself from all emotions in order to avoid the pain.
We’ve all been there before—hurt or betrayed until we learn to grow a thicker skin. Or perhaps a brick wall. But everything has its place, its proper balance. An excess of any good thing can be abused.
Eventually, if you’re not careful, your heart can grow numb. And when your heart is numb, true—you won’t feel the sadness so intensely. But you also won’t feel passion. Perhaps that’s when you know you’ve leaned too far away from your heart.
Is it worth it? Is the gain worth the loss?
Vulnerability is scary. But what of a life without passion?
* * *
That night I ran into James going up the stairs.
Our days of having to tolerate each other were numbered. He had completed boot camp and was halfway through military training. In a matter of weeks, he’d be leaving for deployment. I wasn’t going to miss moments like this, feeling like the thorn in his side just by existing.
Normally I avoided getting too close and especially making eye contact. However I couldn’t help but gape when I noticed his condition.
Like me, James had undergone a complete transformation this year. His hair was shaved in typical military fashion, his build had grown bulkier thanks to several months of intense physical exertion. Even the silver piercings were absent from his face.
But I’d never seen him injured before.
There was a cut in his eyebrow, a split in his lip, his nose was busted and held in place with thin splints. Both cheeks were swollen with yellowing bruises.
What were they training him for? Hand to hand combat?
“What are you staring a
t?” he sneered.
My eyes narrowed, not in the mood for his attitude. “An asshole with a fucked up face,” I tossed back.
He actually laughed at that as he moved past me. “You and that damn bastard,” he said, shaking his head.
He was already down the stairs and out the front door before I figured out what he meant.
Ricky…
Last night, before he kissed me… Ricky had started a fight with my brother.
Chapter 33
Mine
“She” by Parachute
Life was complicated.
I was a liar among my friends, hiding behind walls and harboring secrets from every person to which I should have been loyal. Guilt slowly corroded my mind until all my relationships grew strained.
Every single one.
Especially Vance.
He was sweet and understanding, alright. Too sweet, too understanding. Too patient and too quick to forgive. Despite the drama I kept dragging him through, he loved me far more than I deserved… so much so that I began to resent his never-ending niceness.
Vance’s life had been nothing but open doors and smart decisions. And not a regret in the world? No wonder hope came so easily for him. Must have been effortless when the sun always shined on Vance Holloway.
All I had was my own personal rain cloud.
I was starting to realize it was just as he predicted… his feelings had freaked me out. I didn’t mean to intentionally sabotage our relationship, but the more he continued to push me, the more I found myself pushing back. I was the one driving this wedge between us. I kept wondering when he was going to throw in the towel like he did with Evelyn. One could only bend so far until they couldn’t help but break.
* * *
Technically it started before we were even on the clock.
He was already there when I pulled up. I could see him sitting in his truck, window down, obviously waiting for me. Things were still a little weird after this last weekend. We’d barely spoken since the conversation in front of Farrell’s house. In fact, he hadn’t kissed me since finding out about Ricky.
A torrent of emotions encased me as I approached. Humility. Stubbornness. As always, the most prominent was guilt.
That all changed instantaneously when I saw the familiar image by his speedometer.
I yanked the photograph off his dashboard and held it up.
“What’s this?” I demanded, even though I knew exactly what it was.
“Ooh, someone’s feisty today.” From behind his Wayfarers he flashed me a impish grin.
“Vance!” I shoved the incriminating photo in his chest. “Don’t you think it’s kind of an intimate pose to just be sitting on your dashboard for anyone to see?”
His eyebrows wiggled facetiously. “I’ll show you an intimate pose.”
I pursed my lips as a light blush warmed my cheeks. He was incorrigible. But I had to put my foot down.
“You know, your dimples pop when you try and suppress your smile, too.”
“I don’t have time for your madness, Vance!”
“Who would want to live a world without madness?!”
“I’m serious! I barely even remember that night. I was passed out drunk when Kiki took it.”
His brows pulled in toward the photo. “I like this picture.”
“Well you can’t keep it displayed on your dashboard as if we were a couple! If Summer saw…”
“If we were a couple?” he snapped, stepping out of his truck and standing over me. He ripped off his shades, eyeing me severely. “You want to know what really happened that night? You fell asleep with me. I got up in the night to switch the laundry so you’d have dry clothes to wear the next day. And when I came back, guess what I saw?”
I sighed. I couldn’t even look at him. “Vance…”
“I’m tired of pretending that either one of us is single! I’m tired of sneaking around like we’re doing something wrong! I’m not ashamed of the picture and I don’t give a damn who sees it. Let them all see it. Let them all know you’re mine.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, we both stopped, bracing ourselves for a moment we’d both been dreading… the day this wasn’t enough. We faced each other like two sides of a mirror, both wide-eyed and wary. It was happening, just like I said it would.
“Okay…” I breathed. We needed to talk. We needed to pull the plug. I knew this was coming and had naively expected to feel relieved to put it all behind us. But right now, I felt anything but relief. I wasn’t ready for a real relationship, but I wasn’t ready to lose him, either.
Who would have guessed it would end where it began—Smudgepot. All over a photo of me asleep in his arms in his precious cabin.
Poetically ironic. Every time.
“Wait,” he sighed, “I didn’t mean that.”
“Yes, you did.”
“Don’t do that, okay? Don’t go ending everything just because of one little picture. I’ll take it down. Problem solved.”
“The problem isn’t solved,” I said faintly. “You’re just treating a broken arm with bubblegum and Band-Aids.”
“This isn’t broken. I got frustrated and spoke without thinking. No more than a speed bump.”
“Vance…”
“No.”
He tucked the photo in his back pocket and pushed past me, leaving the truck with a slam. I stood alone. Angry at him. Angry for him. Mostly angry at myself. I wished I could give him what he wanted. I just couldn’t. And I’d never get him to understand why.
* * *
I came in only a couple of minutes behind Vance. The bright and colorful shop was a high contrast to the not-so-cheery feeling in the pit of my stomach. Our conversation wasn’t over, but with Kiki and Summer hanging around as witnesses, we’d have to evade it, for now.
Vance stood by the register, probably on purpose because I’d have to cross him in order to clock myself in. The girls were hanging around on the other side of the counter chatting away. Kiki had the mid-shift so she’d still be working with us for another hour. Summer was officially off but in no hurry to depart.
Shocker.
“You’ll have to come over so I can give you your present early!”
Vance sighed. “You don’t have to get me anything, Summer,” he chided.
“Too late,” she singsonged. “Don’t worry, you’re gonna love it! Oh, hi Scar. Did you hear our Vance is going to be leaving us for two whole weeks?” she pouted to me.
“You don’t say.”
“His family always stays up in their cabin through Christmas. You remember, from Smudgepot? The snow falls and the lake freezes over and it’s like a winter wonderland!”
“It’s great,” Vance winked at me. “Two weeks of snowboarding and ice fishing.”
Of course, I already knew all this. And I knew how much he was looking forward to spending time with his brothers. But I was hesitant to admit to any conversations we’d had in private. So I played along.
“Sounds like a blast. Be sure to wear a belt when you’re making snow angels so you don’t get ice up your ass.”
Both Vance and Kiki laughed at that. Summer, not so much.
“I think this calls for a party at The Alley!” she announced.
“Sweet chicken!” agreed Kiki. “Let’s do it when Colie Wolie has the night off!”
“Ugh. Can you please refrain from the pet names when you’re talking about my brother?”
“Nope! Get used to it, sister!”
The girls continued to rattle off plans. I picked up one of our new brochures and flipped it open. It detailed the seasonal flavors along with our classic selection. Christmas was certainly in the air with flavors like candy cane and eggnog and gingerbread. I was just reading through the new mix-ins when the door chimed with our first customer.
“Hey! Ricky Storm!”
Damn it.
To say that his timing was inopportune would be a massive understatement. The way my lungs seized suggested t
hat having Ricky and Vance in the same space right now wasn’t such a good idea. Ricky had caused enough trouble there. Not to mention with James, and Lexi, and that kiss… I buried my nose in the pamphlet and began reading it intently. Smoothies… shakes… floats… hmm… fascinating.
I felt him before I saw him. His powerful presence hovered right over me, casting a shadow on my brochure. It had proved to be a poor hiding place.
Without even addressing anyone else, he greeted me. “Hey kiddo.”
I didn’t know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t a nonchalant greeting. I looked up and he gave me a blasé nod as if none of last weekend had happened. Somehow that hurt worse than anything else.
What was my problem? It was just Ricky—the same guy he’d always been. Black hair hanging low to his eyes. Irises swirling in light grays. Looking right at me… just like they were Saturday night… a knot formed in my throat. All I could see was Lexi wrapped around him, her nails tracing his tattoos, his hands digging into her hips…
Fine. If he could be blasé then so could I.
I pulled it together enough to mumble, “Hey,” then ducked back behind the brochure.
Smooth.
“Wanna come—”
“Can’t. Working.” I cringed at my own awkwardness. This really shouldn’t be so difficult.
“I can see that,” he paused. “What about—”
“It’s going to be really busy tonight. I’ll text you later, okay?”
Oppressive tension filled the small shop. Nobody spoke. Clearly I wasn’t myself tonight—whoever the hell that was supposed to be these days.
I could feel Ricky as he studied me, obviously noticing my distance. “What are you doing?” he said, a slight edge to his voice.
I feigned ignorance as the slick leaflet wrinkled in my grip. “Memorizing our menu.”
“Why?” he snapped, cross.
I shrugged, still unable to look at him.
He ripped the brochure out of my hands. That got my attention. His eyes were dark and sparkling now, mine alert with apprehension. Thank goodness the counter between us hid my wobbly knees. I was wrong before—I would like to go back to blasé, please.