Sticks & Stones

by Rachael Brownell

  There’s a knock at the door just as she’s about to say something else. Reese signs for our food, hands me my order and we settle at the tiny table. Silence falls between us as I devour my fried cheese sticks and she picks at her cheesecake. Trying to break the tension between us, I offer her a bite, but she politely declines, closing her container and tossing it in the trash.

  I follow her lead when I see her pacing the length of the room, unsure of what her next move is. Finally, pulling the sheets back, Reese crawls in the bed and covers herself. There’s an instant change in her demeanor. I’m guessing she feels more comfortable, less exposed. I follow her lead and crawl in on the other side, lying on my side to face her.

  “Are you ready for tomorrow?” I ask.

  “Not really. On one hand, I want to avoid it all together, avoid her. On the other, I know I need to face my demons. It’s just sad, you know? She wasn’t always this way. She wasn’t always the bitch she turned out to be.” The sadness in her voice is all I hear until her words smack me across the face.

  “What do you mean?”

  “In high school, she was protecting her image. I get that now. I’m not condoning her actions in any way, but I think I understand her motive a little. She was popular, I wasn’t. She was beautiful, I wasn’t. Any type of socialization with me could have ruined her reputation.”

  “That’s bullshit,” I practically shout.

  “It is, but it isn’t.”

  “No, it’s complete bullshit. No one deserves to be treated the way she treated you. I don’t care what kind of reason they think they have to treat someone that way,” I state, anger seething through every bone in my body.

  “Like I said, she wasn’t always that way.”

  “I’m sure she wasn’t, but in the end, she was. She doesn’t deserve you defending her or her actions.”

  “You know, there was a time when we were actually friends. The best of friends. I thought we always would be.”

  When was this? Tiffanie always treated her as if she was trash. That’s not how you treat your friends, past or present.

  “Care to elaborate?” I ask, my curiosity peaked.

  “In elementary school, we were inseparable.”

  “What changed, then?”

  “She moved. Her parents got divorced. We were only eight, so it’s not like we had the option to see each other often, so we lost contact.”

  “Then why was she horrible to you in high school?” I ask, sliding down further under the covers.

  “It had been years since we’d seen each other. My dad took a new job, we moved across town and I changed schools since it was between middle and high school. First day of freshmen year, I ran into Tiffanie in the bathroom between classes. At first, I didn’t recognize her, and she ignored me. It bothered me. She looked familiar, but it took me a few days to put the pieces together. Once things clicked, I sought her out. We didn’t have any classes or lunch together. So after a few weeks, I waited around after school, hoping to run into her. I never should have done that.”

  Of course they didn’t have classes together. Reese is smart as hell. I’m sure she was in all the advanced classes. Tiffanie, on the other hand, was taking classes with me her junior and senior year. That’s how we met. I’m surprised she graduated with the rest of her class.

  “What happened?” I ask, wincing. I’m not sure I want to hear her answer. If I know Tiffanie, she made the experience as miserable as possible for anyone other than herself.

  “She annihilated me in front of everyone. Claimed she didn’t know me. Called me a loser and told me to get lost.” The lack of emotion in her voice worries me for a moment until I look in her eyes. She’s holding everything back.

  “Wow! What a bitch.”

  “I saw it, though. There was a sadness in her eyes. It almost looked as if she was apologizing to me in a way. At first, I thought there was hope. Maybe if we were alone, things would be different. Wrong again. I called her a few days later, and she blew me off again. Her mom said she was busy and didn’t have time to talk to me. I was fourteen years old and trying to rekindle a relationship with the best friend I had lost. I didn’t understand what was going on at the time, so I kept trying.

  “Eventually, she took my call. What I didn’t know was that I was on speaker phone and that there were other girls listening in. I don't even remember what I said, but I do remember hearing them laugh at me. They called me every name they could think of. Loser. Geek. Nerd. I hung up in tears. After that, Tiffanie made it her mission to dig into my open wounds any chance she had.

  “Freshman year wasn’t that bad. I barely ever saw her. Sophomore year was horrible. It seemed like she was everywhere. At first, I thought maybe it was over, that she had forgotten or maybe moved past it. I was wrong. It was as if she sought me out to make my life miserable. That’s when I did everything I could to become invisible. I stopped talking to the friends I had made. I dropped out of the band and newspaper. My only focus was on school and avoiding Tiffanie. That’s how I spent the rest of high school. The more I tried to disappear, though, the more she seemed to find opportunities to kick me while I was down.”

  I’m fuming. My fists are clenched, and it’s all I can do to keep from punching a hole in the wall. Standing, I pace the length of the bed, pretending to search my bag and then crawl back in, closer to Reese than before.

  I can’t believe Tiffanie ever treated her like that especially if they were friends at one point. No one deserves that, especially not someone like Reese. As far as I can tell, she would do anything for anyone, no questions asked, if she cares for them. That’s the kind of person you want on your side.

  “I don’t understand why she would treat you like that. What changed?”

  “Popularity, I guess. We weren’t the same little girls who used to share Reese’s Pieces at lunch every day. She was tall, blond, and beautiful. I was the exact opposite. Mossy brown hair, average in all aspects of beauty, and new. No one knew anything about me, and because of Tiffanie, no one wanted to.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Reese

  I’m shaking uncontrollably. I’m not sure what prompted me to tell Hunter everything about my relationship with Tiffanie, but it feels right. I can see he’s pissed off. He’s trying to hide it, but he’s not doing a very good job. Even if he had a smile on his face, the look of hatred in his eyes, and the way his left eye is twitching, would give him away. Why this bothers him so much, I can’t imagine, but it’s obvious it does.

  “Reese’s Pieces, huh?” he asks. I was wondering if that would catch his attention.

  “Yep. They’re her favorite.”

  “Is that why you chose Reese when you changed your name?”

  “Part of why, I guess. In a way, it made me feel stronger, in control. It also felt like a dig at Tiffanie, even though I never imagined she would know about it. Even if I run into her tomorrow, she won’t necessarily know. I’m Jane Sharp, remember? That’s the part I have to play tomorrow.”

  “You are who you are, no matter what name you go by. I hope you realize that.”

  “I do. It’s taken me a long time, but it’s still hard to separate who Jane was and who Reese is sometimes. We’re the same person. We share the same personality. We also have our differences, though. People treat us differently. I’m not excited about tomorrow, but at the same time, I’m hoping people will see beyond my name and see the real me, the one they wouldn’t take the time to get to know in high school. Back then, it felt like she held all the power. That was high school. We’re all mature adults now. At least I hope so.”

  His only reply is a nod, before he gets out of bed and shuts the lights off. Taking that as a sign, I slip further under the covers and roll toward the outside of the bed, turning my back to him.

  “Good night, Hunter,” I say, forcing myself to close my eyes. I doubt I’ll sleep, but I have to at least try.

  “Good night, Jane,” he replies, catching me off guard.


  I guess I need to get used to being called Jane again, and he needs to get used to calling me by her name. My real name. My past is about to become my present, and as much as I hated it at the time, I’m hoping things will be different tomorrow. I’m no longer the scared girl hiding from the big bad homecoming queen. I’ll never be that girl again. That’s a promise I made to myself a long time ago.

  I’m warm. Really warm. Cracking my eyes open, last night comes rushing back to me. Talking with Hunter. Falling asleep in the same bed as him. That’s when I realize his arms are wrapped around me. Staring at them a moment, one casually draped over my waist, the other under my lower back, I think what it would be like to wake up with this feeling every morning. The feeling of warmth in my body and my heart.

  I wiggle and Hunter rolls to the other side of the bed. Taking the opportunity, I slip out from under the covers as quietly as possible so I don’t wake him, change into workout clothes, and head down to the gym. I need to work through the anxiety I’m feeling right now. Sleep was elusive last night. I dreamt of Tiffanie–both the good times and the bad.

  There was a time in my life that I actually missed her. Even after the years of her berating me in front of other people, I held out hope she would change. I prayed that one day she would wake up and realize the person she had become was not the person she wanted to be.

  It makes me wonder who she is now. Has she changed for the better since high school, or is she the same person I last knew?

  Thirty minutes on the treadmill and my stomach is growling at me. Ignoring it, I hit the stair stepper and work my legs, pushing myself further than I should since I’m going to be wearing heels tonight. Looking up at the clock, it’s a little after seven o’clock now.

  There’s a restaurant around the corner that should be open. I’ll run over and grab some breakfast and coffee for Hunter and myself. I didn’t leave him a note this morning like I should have. I’m aware I don’t owe him any type of explanation, but he is my guest this weekend. The least I could do is be respectful. Hopefully, breakfast will be a peace offering.

  Walking back, my hands fully loaded with bags of food and two coffees, I’m thankful when I see an elderly couple outside the elevators. I ask the woman to hit the button for the seventh floor and she nods, taking in my lack of ability to do it myself.

  “He’s a lucky man,” she says. Unsure of how to respond, I smile and nod. “I remember when I used to bring him breakfast in bed. That was back in the day before life got complicated. Work, kids, grandkids. I miss those days, yelling at him for getting crumbs on the sheets. Cherish this time, honey. It’s gone before you know it.”

  The elevator dings, announcing our arrival on the seventh floor. I thank her and wish them a wonderful day. The door closes between us, and I’m left standing in the hall with only my thoughts. If she only knew that this will only last one more night, one more morning, and then it’s all over.

  Tapping on the door with the toe of my shoe, Hunter yanks the door open in a panic.

  “Thank God! Where have you been?” he asks, taking everything from my hands.

  “I went to the gym and then picked up breakfast,” I state, walking past him as if it’s no big deal that he’s freaking out right now.

  “You could have let me a note. After our conversation last night I was convinced you ran back home and left me here.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because you’re scared. Because you don’t want to go tonight. Because your ex-best-friend is a major bitch.”

  “All true,” I say as I dig through the bags, handing him a box, silverware, and cream for his coffee.

  He likes it with two creams, no sugar. I shouldn’t know that, but I do. I’m too damn observant when it comes to him. Like right now. His shirt, if you can call it that, is exposing most of his delicious upper body, and I’m doing all I can to resist reaching out and touching his washboard abs. I’ve never felt a six pack before. I wonder if they’re as hard and defined as they look.

  “Reese!”

  “Sorry. What were you saying?” Shit! I must have tuned him out. It’s not my fault completely. He’s the one walking around half naked and tempting me.

  “Thank you,” he replies. Forcing myself to look away from his delicious body I’m met with a pair of hungry eyes. I’m thinking eggs and bacon are not going to be what he needs to satisfy his appetite this morning.

  He takes a step toward me and my body responds. It wants him. I want him. I’ve been fighting it since the moment we met, knowing that it would be a horrible idea. The night we kissed only made things worse. That’s why it hasn’t happened since. I’ve done the best I can to keep my distance from him for the same reason.

  Now… well, he’s standing in front of me, pleading with his eyes. My body wants me to give in, to agree to whatever he’s thinking. Licking my lips, I open my mouth to speak when I’m saved by Florida Georgia Line.

  My phone. It’s ringing. Ireland’s ring tone to be exact.

  Breaking eye contact, I turn my back to him. I’m sure he saw the moment I hesitated. He could see the want in my eyes, the need. I feel vulnerable right now. This is all too much to handle, especially today of all days. I can’t deal with it. My head’s not clear.

  Rummaging through my purse, I pull my phone out and step into the hall, closing the door behind me. “Hello,” I say after I slide my finger across the screen.

  “Hey,” she mumbles into the phone. “I’m surprised you answered.”

  Of course she is. I chewed her up and spit her out yesterday. She was out of line and she knows it. I can hear it in her voice. I’ve only ever heard her speak to me this cautiously once before. It was the day she helped me step out of my comfort zone and into Reese’s shoes. She wasn’t sure how I would react. Truthfully, I wasn’t either.

  “So, what’s up?” I ask, avoiding her statement of the obvious.

  “I just wanted to see how you are, if you’re still mad at me?”

  “I’m not happy, if that’s what you’re asking. You know I hate to be blindsided,” I reply, leaning against the door and closing my eyes. I don’t want to have this conversation with her right now. Fighting with Ireland is exhausting. We can go around and around, and neither of us will feel the situation is resolved even if the other person claims fault.

  “I’m sorry. In my defense, I knew you would never go for it, so I had to lie.”

  “There’s a good reason I never would have agreed to it, Ireland. You know that. Lying to me is what made me angry.”

  There’s a long silence. Knowing her, she probably has her knees tucked under her chin and is resting her head on them. That’s what she does when she thinks. She curls into a ball in a sitting position. The first time I found her like that, she freaked me out a little. She sat that way for almost two hours before standing, stretching, and calling her high school boyfriend to break up with him. They had been together for four years. If there’s one thing I know about Ireland, she takes decision making seriously.

  “What about us? Are we going to be okay?” she finally asks.

  “We’re fine right now. I promise. In fact, there’s no need to talk about this after we hang up.” I’m letting her off easy, and we both know it. I also realize that there’s no changing this and at the moment, no need to. He’s behaving, as best he can, and it’s only one more night.

  Everything will be fine as long as I can control myself.

  “Um, okay. Are you sure, Reese? That’s not really how we normally dance when one of us messes up.”

  The dance. That’s what she started calling it after our first fight. Man, we used to fight all the time back in the day. I almost didn’t hire her because of that. We’re both more mature now, but we still have our moments. She keeps me in check and I keep her from falling apart. Or is it the other way around?

  “After tonight, I’m letting the past go. So, yeah, this is how we’re gonna dance. Is that okay with you?”

  After she a
grees, she tells me all about her ugly bridesmaid dress her sister picked out. With the promise of a picture later on, she hangs up and I slide to the floor.

  After tonight, I’m letting the past go.

  I said those words out loud.

  She can hold me accountable for them

  Either this will be a great thing or disastrous. Only time will tell.

  The door opens and I fall head first into the room, landing between Hunter’s feet. Laughing, he helps me up and as soon as the door is closed, he pins me to it.

  “I think maybe we should get this out of the way. I have a feeling seeing you in your dress is going to have me wanting you more than I already do.”

  My breathing picks up as he leans in closer. I wait for him to do something, anything, but he doesn’t. My heart is pounding in my chest with anticipation, waiting for a taste of his delicious lips.

  “Can I kiss you, Jane?”

  Jane. No. No. No! That’s not me. That’s not who I am to him. I’m letting her go tonight. There’s no room in my life for Jane anymore.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Hunter

  Something’s wrong. Her demeanor and the look in her eyes changed. I swear I saw desire two seconds ago, and now they look sad. With her pinned between my body and the door, I can’t imagine why she would look anything other than happy at the moment. I can tell this is what she wants. She almost got it a few minutes ago, too. If Ireland hadn’t interrupted, she would be flat on her back with me on top of her right now.

  Damn it! I have to stop thinking like that. If I push her too far, too fast, there will be no chance of her wanting more after this is all over. Not to mention, I still need to tell her the truth before anything can happen between us. That little fact seems to slip my mind every time I look at her.

  It’s going to be a game changer.