Better (Too Good series)

by S. Walden

  “Why is that?”

  “Because the balance is off,” Avery explained. “If both women and men are emotional messes, where’s the balance?”

  “True.”

  “Have you ever seen Mark cry?”

  Cadence tensed. “Yes.”

  “And how did it make you feel?”

  “The first time? Completely freaked out. I ripped my clothes off and yelled at him to do me.”

  “Totally normal reaction.”

  “The second time? I felt nothing because I’m numb right now.”

  “Does he make it a habit of crying a lot?” Avery asked.

  “No.”

  “Okay good. Although I oughta give the poor guy a break. After all, his wife died.”

  “Yes, Avery. You like to remind me of that every chance you get.”

  “Glad you’re catching on.”

  Cadence rolled her eyes.

  “Do you forgive me?” she asked.

  “Of course I do. I don’t hold grudges.”

  “Another subtle hint?”

  “No. I’m just throwing them all out there on the table. Mark’s wife died. You hold grudges. Stop being a cunt. Mark’s wife died. You’re selfish and heartless. Mark’s wife died . . .”

  “Okay!”

  Avery thought for a moment. “Oliver isn’t gonna get all messed up again now that he knows about Charlie, is he?”

  “I don’t think so,” Cadence said. “I imagine now he’s afraid of alcohol.”

  “Are you?” Avery asked, eyeing Cadence carefully.

  “Not yet,” Cadence admitted. She looked at Avery suddenly. “What? You think I abuse alcohol or something?”

  Avery shrugged. “It’s one thing to joke about it.”

  “But you think I really have a problem?”

  “I don’t know. I just know that you’re using it to dull your pain, but it’s turning you aggressive and hateful. Those aren’t your normal characteristics. Usually you’re silly and happy.”

  Cadence nodded.

  “I’m not judging you. And I probably wouldn’t say a damn thing about it if you were a happy drunk.”

  “Sometimes I am,” Cadence pointed out.

  “Yeah, but that girl hasn’t come around lately.”

  Silence.

  “Thank you for telling me the truth,” Cadence whispered.

  “Will it make a difference?”

  “Sure. I think so.”

  Avery wasn’t convinced. She worried that it would take a major event to change Cadence’s perspective, to heal her broken heart. She hoped Oliver’s accident would be the wake-up call, but it didn’t work. Perhaps the major event had to involve Cadence herself, and suddenly Avery’s heart filled with fear. She couldn’t survive without her friend. They had become inextricably linked—two lonely girls who found friendship in a most unconventional way. And there was no way in hell Avery would allow something to sever that bond.

  She prayed that evening. She prayed for Cadence’s heart. She prayed for Cadence’s future with Mark. And she never once prayed for herself.

  “Hello?” Mark said into the phone.

  “It’s Avery.”

  His heart dropped.

  “Cadence is staying with Carrie tonight. She told me.”

  Mark let out his breath.

  “I figured she didn’t bother to call and let you know.”

  “No,” Mark said quietly. “She didn’t.”

  Avery paused before continuing.

  “I know she’s being a little bitch right now.”

  Mark said nothing.

  “I told her to grow the fuck up. It’s like I’m always telling her to grow the fuck up.”

  That made him smile.

  “Although you did have a wife, and kept it from her, and carried around this HUGE secret, and hate babies—”

  “Yes, Avery.” Mark sighed patiently.

  “Look, I’m not trying to be all up in your business—”

  “That’s exactly what you’re doing,” he interrupted.

  “Well, whatever. The point is that she’s hurting, and she doesn’t know how to handle it.”

  “I know.”

  “And you could have been a little less heartless about it when she confronted you with her discovery.”

  “I apologized.”

  “Saying ‘I’m sorry’ isn’t enough. In fact, let’s just make a rule, okay? ‘I’m sorry’s’ blow, and you’re not ever allowed to use them again.”

  “Then what am I supposed to say to her, Avery? Huh?” Mark felt his temper rising.

  “I didn’t say you were supposed to say a thing. Why don’t you show her how sorry you are?”

  “Haven’t I been? I’ve given her space. I’ve been understanding. I’ve let go of all the hurtful things she’s said and done to me.”

  Avery paused.

  “Look, I think you’re a really great guy. I know you love Cadence to death. If you didn’t, I wouldn’t let her be with you. I would have never barged into your classroom that afternoon. Remember?”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “Maybe this’ll just take time. But I’m worried about her. I won’t lie.”

  “Me, too.”

  “I’ll keep calling and texting you when I know where she is. I won’t leave you hanging.”

  “Thank you.”

  Avery asked a few questions about math at the end of the conversation. Mark chuckled when he hung up. That was completely Avery—concerned for others, but always thinking of herself first. At least she waited until the end to ask, though.

  He couldn’t help but recall the conversation they had in his classroom that prompted him to seek out Cadence at the movie theatre last year. That fateful evening that changed the course of their relationship and their relationships with others.

  Avery tore open the door and stormed over to Mark’s desk. She dropped her purse and book bag on the floor, crossed her arms over her chest, and stared. Mark blinked—a silent invitation for her to speak.

  “Grow the fuck up, Mr. Connelly,” she spat.

  “I’m sorry?”

  She placed her hands on the edge of his desk and leaned in. “Grow. Up.”

  He took a deep breath. “Avery, I have a lot of grading to do—”

  “Oh, get real! Is that, like, your go-to line whenever you’re uncomfortable? You know you’re in love with my best friend. I catch you looking at her all the time. You’re not even good at hiding it. I’m surprised you haven’t already been fired. But whatever. So don’t care about that. I care about Cadence.”

  He said nothing as he rolled his chair backwards, putting space between them.

  “Go apologize to her and get back together!!”

  “Will you please be a little quieter?” he asked. He rubbed the back of his head.

  Avery waited patiently for a better response than “Will you please be a little quieter?” He sensed it and nodded.

  “First of all, you aren’t supposed to even know about us,” he began.

  Avery snorted.

  “Second, it’s much more complicated than you’re making it out to be.”

  “Bullshit, Mr. Connelly. You love her. She loves you. Hence, the two of you should be together.”

  He opened his mouth to reply, then promptly shut it. What could he say to that anyway? Her words made perfect sense. He loved Cadence. He hoped she still loved him. And if she did, then why shouldn’t they be together?

  He looked at Avery, who knew she made one sound argument. And then he remembered.

  “I’m her teacher.”

  “So what?”

  “It’s unethical.”

  “Just don’t change her grades.”

  He cracked a smile.

  “I could lose my job.”

  “You don’t even like your job.”

  He burst out laughing. That was mostly true. The only thing he liked about his job, really, was seeing Cadence every day. High school teaching was merely a stepping stone to
better things—a doctorate and university job.

  “I don’t want to complicate her life. Especially with her parents.”

  “Are you afraid of her parents?”

  He bristled. “No.”

  “Then what do you care?”

  He sighed then mumbled, “You’re relentless.”

  “Yeah, I am,” she replied. “Because my friend is hurting. Don’t let her fool you. She’s not over you. She’s not even the same silly Cadence. I think her heart is growing black.”

  He flinched at the words.

  “And it’s your fault. Why did you break up with her?”

  “Several reasons.”

  “All of them bad.”

  “Yes,” he said before he could stop himself.

  Avery was startled. She said nothing as she watched him work through his admission. Yes, they were all bad reasons. Yes, he was lonely. Yes, he was miserable without Cadence. Yes, she was the shining light, and now his world was dark. Cold.

  “She’s going to the movies tonight with Tate. I thought you should know. Don’t let her, Mr. Connelly. Who cares about all that stuff you just told me. You love her. Consequences be damned, right?”

  Mark thought a moment.

  “You can say that because you’re eighteen. Society gives you a free pass. I can’t say that at twenty-eight. I don’t get the free pass.”

  “It’s not about a free pass, Mr. Connelly. It’s about you fighting for someone you love.”

  He nodded. She was right. He would go.

  ***

  Mark pushed through the crowded room, shoving students aside.

  “Watch it, asshole!” someone cried.

  Mark ignored him and continued his hunt. Where was she? He burst through one door and caught sight of a make-out session among roughly five people. A young girl asked him to join them, and he politely declined.

  “Do you know Cadence?” he asked before closing the door.

  “Who’s Cadence?” she replied, unhooking her bra.

  Mark shook his head and moved on. He opened another door to an empty bedroom. That was it. No more bedrooms. The line to the bathroom stretched the length of the hallway and wrapped into the kitchen. He searched the line for her, but she was nowhere.

  And then he heard her laugh. The sound wafted in through the open glass sliding door. He clenched his jaw and moved towards the sound. Out the back door. Into the littered yard. Among the dozens of drunken college students looking to get obliterated. He followed that giggle all the way to the far end of the yard and saw her doubled over, laughing hysterically against the back fence.

  And then she promptly threw up all over the ground, her companions jumping backwards to avoid her vomit. One shouted, “Cadence! You idiot! You drank too much!”

  Mark stopped in his tracks. He stood yards away observing the scene. He watched her stand up, grab a chunk of her blond hair, and hold it out to the side of her face.

  “Is there throw up in my hair?” she asked weakly.

  Her friends laughed. That Michael person was among them, and Mark thought he’d pounce on him. He didn’t like anything about him. He saw Michael as wily and manipulative. Even now, he watched as Michael stroked Cadence’s arm, like he was her boyfriend. That did it. Mark made his move.

  “You ready to go home?” he asked Cadence, approaching her little group.

  “Mark!” Cadence cried. “OMG! What are you doing at a frat party?”

  “Picking you up,” he replied.

  “But I’m not ready to go yet,” Cadence argued. She teetered on uncertain feet.

  “You threw up. That means you’re ready to go,” Mark explained. He gingerly sidestepped her mess and took her arm. “Back away,” he said evenly to Michael who didn’t move from Cadence’s side.

  “Dude, I think you should let Cadence stay. It’s her life,” Michael said. He said it with a mixture of petulance and complete idiocy.

  “Move,” Mark instructed.

  “You don’t have to be all mean about it,” Carrie pointed out. She hiccupped and giggled with Cadence. “She wants to stay.”

  Mark looked them over.

  “Here’s what I think,” he said carefully. “I think you two are the worst friends on the planet. Nothing good has happened with Cadence’s life since she met you. Nothing. And for me, that’s the deal breaker. So stay away from my girlfriend.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Michael spat. “You just wanna control everything she does.”

  Mark chuckled. “Really? Is that what I wanna do? You’ve known me for a minute, but you can say that?”

  “Cadence told us,” Michael explained.

  Mark snorted and pulled Cadence along. She didn’t resist.

  “Hey! I wasn’t done talking to you!” Michael shouted.

  Mark kept walking until he felt his body lurch forward—a result of a push to the back. He released Cadence’s hand and wheeled around.

  “Dude, I’m not doing this,” Mark said. “You’re drunk and you’re pissed. I’m sorry she can’t be your girlfriend, and I’m sorry you’re a dick. Get over it.”

  Michael balled his hands into fists and lunged at Mark. He dodged Michael, sending him crashing to the ground. Michael peeled himself off the ground and tried again. This time Mark knew he wouldn’t miss. He was already fueled by a massive amount of alcohol and now determination. So Mark threw the first punch. The only punch. Hard enough to lay Michael on his back but light enough to keep from doing any kind of permanent damage.

  “Idiot,” Mark whispered. He walked over to Cadence and took her hand, pulling her along. Away from the party. Away from this life. Away from her bad decisions.

  He wanted her home, safe and sound, with a restored heart and mind. It couldn’t happen overnight; he knew that. But he’d do everything in his power to nurture her back to health. He’d tell her every day how sorry he was until her heart decided to believe it.

  Mark heard her stumble into the bathroom. He jumped from the couch and ran to her, securing her hair behind her back just in time for the fourth round. She couldn’t keep down the little bit of liquids he forced her to drink. She vomited in and around the toilet bowl, then sat back on the floor against the wall.

  He flushed the toilet and grabbed the bathroom cleaner, wiping the floor and the rim of the toilet. He glanced at her as she crossed her arms over her chest, trying to control the shaking. Even her feet shook, and he wondered if he wouldn’t need to take her to the hospital for alcohol poisoning. He tossed the soiled paper towels and sat down beside her.

  “Want me to help you back to bed?” he asked gently.

  She shook her head.

  “Wanna stay in here for a little while? The smell might not be good for your stomach.”

  She shrugged and hugged herself tighter.

  “I’m gonna get you some crackers and Gatorade,” he said.

  She crinkled her nose. “Please don’t.”

  “You’ve got to at least drink something, Cadence. You’re dehydrated.”

  She nodded reluctantly.

  Mark left for the kitchen and returned to find her sleeping on the floor. He sighed, placed the crackers and glass on the sink, and picked her up. He carried her to their bed and laid her on top of the covers. He made the mistake of tucking her in when they returned home last night, and she got tangled in the sheets, falling out of bed and puking all over the floor before she could make it to the bathroom.

  The next two days were tortuous. She was too ill to be left alone and too belligerent to talk to. He suppressed the urge to yell at her every time she ignored his questions or offers for help. She didn’t want him feeding her. It was a sad comedy—her attempts at making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It took her half an hour. He couldn’t watch as she tried to reach for a glass in the cupboard, and waited for the inevitable crash. He let her do it her way. He bided his time, waiting for her to be fully restored to health before letting her have it. This episode was the final straw. It’d be her last,
and he suspected a part of her knew it.

  Day Three dawned, and she was back to her angry, vindictive self. He let her be. He went to work because he had to. Plus he needed the time to sort out his plan of attack. Yes, he had one. And he hoped it would work.

  “All right, Cadence. Let’s have it out,” Mark said, storming into the bedroom that evening.

  Cadence sat propped up in bed reading a book for English 201. She affected confusion. “What?”

  “You know what. I kept my marriage from you—my past. And you’ve been punishing me for two months!”

  Cadence raised her head a little. “Punishing you how? I’ve just been busy.”

  “Bullshit.”

  She sneered. “Okay. So I haven’t called you every day. Big deal. I—”

  “It is a big deal when you live with me,” Mark interrupted.

  “So I need your permission to live my life?” she asked.

  “Get real. You’re not living. You’re spiraling. And I would think that after what happened to Oliver, you’d have a wake-up call. What the hell, Cadence? Smoking weed? Getting drunk every weekend? You want that to be your life? That’s a loser’s life.”

  Cadence’s mouth went tight—a thin line of insolence.

  “Now I know why you’ve been absent. I do. And I know I deserved your absence. But it ends now. You’re gonna stop playing your bullshit passive-aggressive games with me.”

  He walked to the bed and grabbed her upper arm, hauling her to her feet. She ripped her arm from his grasp.

  “I’m studying,” she spat.

  “I don’t give a fuck.”

  Cadence balled her hands into tiny fists. Mark saw and encouraged her.

  “Just give it to me. Would that make you feel better? Because I need anything in the world right now to make you feel better,” he said. “How many times can I apologize? How many ways can I work to make things right? I was wrong to hurt you like that, but you’ve gotta forgive me at some—”

  Cadence swung at his face, driving her fist into his right ear. She gasped in disbelief. She hadn’t meant to hit him that hard. But the blow fueled within her a desire for revenge—the physical kind where someone goes down for the count.

  Mark hissed and rubbed his ear, but said nothing.

  “I want to rip you apart! I want to make you hurt like you’ve hurt me!!” she screamed.