“Andrew, what do you want?” This comes out a little bit more fierce than I planned.
“Kimber, just hear me out.” His voice is just as firm as mine.
My defenses are up big time now. He left right after senior year to go to college across the state. I didn’t want to try and keep up with a long distance relationship so I broke it off. Later I heard things about other girls, lots of other girls, and it just reinforced my decision. But I always wondered if I did the wrong thing.
A small sigh escapes my lips. “Andrew, why are you here? I heard you finished your degree. Why would you come back?”
He looks around as if gathering his words. “I’m working here at the college as a teaching assistant. Today I was observing Dr. Jones so I could get a feel for his class and how he runs it. I’m completing my masters so I can teach here.”
My heart sinks as soon as he finishes his explanation. I’m embarrassed more than anything. This might be a class I need to drop now. Can I crawl under a rock and die?
“I just wanted to let you know why I’m here and in your class. I was hoping there wouldn’t be any weirdness between us.” He pauses. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”
Too late for that now. Oh my god he looks so good. He always had a square jaw and a forever five-o’clock shadow like he was older, but now he’s grown into them. I’m definitely kicking myself for letting this one get away.
I stutter after staring once again for an awkward minute. “I, uh…no weirdness, it’s fine.” I look away, unable to meet his gaze. I just want to go and cry.
Glancing down at my watch, I tell him, “I have to get to my other class, I’m already late.”
I don’t even bother to look up as I scurry back toward the building. My next class is through this building and halfway through the next. I can’t believe Andrew Perry, my high school boyfriend, and the love of my life, is now a teacher in my class. That rock is looking mighty fine right now.
Chapter Five
Jordan
David drops me off at my apartment. I barely make it through the door before collapsing onto the oversized couch. I overdid it tonight with the liquor but hey, technically I got engaged and celebrated the engagement of my good friend.
I don’t know how long I slept before the repetitive ringing wakes me up. My head is killing me. I roll over and find that I’m on the couch, still fully clothed. I didn’t even take my shoes off. The ringing continues as I glance around the ill-lighted room. I notice the sun isn’t shining through the blinds. I roll over onto my back and check my watch, still under a wave of alcohol. It’s only 4:12 in the morning. The ringing has stopped but immediately starts back up again. I push myself up to a sitting position. Quickly, I pick my phone up, suddenly concerned, wondering why someone needs to get a hold of me this early in the morning. It stops ringing before I can answer. The screen lights up with ten missed calls, all from my mom’s number. I’m about to press her number to call her back when a firm knock on the door interrupts me.
I push up from the couch now, fully awake and aware that something must be wrong. I grasp the door handle, unlock it, and swing it open. My dad is standing there with fear plastered across his face. I will never forget that look. It will haunt me for years to come.
He walks in forcefully. “Jordan, I need you to sit down.”
I frown and start to protest but he turns to face me. His expression has turned to pure agony. I rush out, breathless, “Is Mom okay? What happened?”
He repeats more firmly, this time placing his hand on my shoulder, “Jordan, sit down.”
I fall back into the couch, bracing myself for the worst. Something must have happened to my mother.
He walks around the coffee table and cautiously sits down next to me. “Jordan, your mother is fine.”
I release a deep breath I didn’t know I was holding.
“It’s Susan.” He looks away. “She took some pills.”
Terror strikes me at his words. Before I can respond and ask if I heard him correctly, he finishes in a rush of breath, “Jordan, she’s gone.”
Suddenly it’s as if I’m drowning. I feel like I’m about to lose the battle but I want to come up for air. My chest heaves and my heart beats so fast it feels like it will explode. I can’t move or even think.
He grabs my hand and squeezes. “Son? Jordan?”
I look at him and what he’s saying registers but it seems like he’s so far away. Then it all slams into me and I’m gasping. “No, she can’t. How? Why?” All I can get out is a whisper. But as what he told me registers, I know somehow that he’s telling the truth.
Before I can think, my body moves off the couch and I’m heading for the door. As I grab the handle, I feel my dad’s hand on my shoulder pulling me back. I shrug him off and turn abruptly, ready to punch something.
He holds his hands out in front of him. “Jordan, wait a moment. Just come back and sit down, calm down.”
I take a step toward him and tell him quietly with as much energy as I can muster, “I need to see, Dad. I need to see her.”
He looks at me with sorrow and nods, walking in front of me and opening the door.
The car is silent on the short ten minute drive to the hospital. Tears run down my cheeks when the realization that I’ve lost my life hits me. I didn’t help her soon enough. I failed her.
When we arrive, a fog settles over me. Somehow everyone who speaks to me gets an appropriate response. When we exit the elevators, my mom and Susan’s parents are sitting in the waiting room. My mom gets up in a hurry and runs over to us, taking my face in her hands and hugging me. Through her tears she repeats over and over again that she’s so sorry. As I scan the room, my eyes land on those of her father’s. He’s staring at me with a look of complete sorrow as he consoles his wife. We both messed up. We didn’t act fast enough and now she’s lost. I look away and focus on anything except the pain in the pit of my being.
After a small while, a nurse comes in and asks if I would like to go and see Susan. How do you move your feet in the direction of this kind of good-bye? This is forever. I will never see my Susie Q again. I will never run my hands through her long brown hair or look into those beautiful, chestnut brown eyes. I will never kiss her full lips or caress her soft skin. My step must falter because suddenly I feel two hands, one on each of my arms, guiding me down the hallway. I don’t even care who it is. At this point I feel the fight leak out of me and all I want to do is crawl back to my couch and forget this ever happened. I want her to still be here, alive and full of life.
The nurse stops at a wide, white door. She turns and looks at me first but averts her eyes, asking, “Mr. and Mrs. Rhodes, if you need anything, please let me know.”
My dad responds, “Thank you, we will.”
He reaches out and pushes the door open while still holding onto my arm. They guide me through the door to a blue, vinyl chair. I look away, anywhere but in front of me where a sheet covers the lifeless body of my love, my life. I stare down at the floor, willing this moment to never happen. Somehow they manage to get me into the chair. I hear my mom’s voice next to my ear. “Jordan, do you want us to stay?”
This seems to snap me out of the semi-trance I must have been in. I hear my voice, which sounds so foreign to my ears, “No.”
As I utter this word I gather the strength to look forward at the white sheet draped in front of me. I hear the door creak and know I’m alone. I sit there for a while. I can’t tell how long, because right now time doesn’t matter.
I have an urge to touch her. I reach out reluctantly and grab the sheet, squeezing but unable to move it. I gather more strength finally and pull it gently. It waves with movement, revealing her beautiful brown hair fanned out behind her head like a halo. I pull it further to uncover her face. She looks like the angel that she is, lying there so peaceful. Suddenly I have the need to be closer. I get up and find her hand. The moment I touch her, I know, and my heart falters. Glancing at her it seeme
d she might just be sleeping, but now the coldness of her skin strikes me with the truth. I sink back to the chair but hold on tightly to her lifeless hand.
I tell her through my sobs, “Susan, I’m so sorry, baby. So so sorry I didn’t get help for you. This is all my fault. I should have found a way… I love you so much, so very much, my Susie Q.”
Chapter Six
Kimber
Trying like hell to sneak into my creative writing class without being noticed proves fruitless. Mrs. Cain calls me out immediately. “Kimber, if you’re going to be this late, you probably shouldn’t bother coming.”
I nod at her, completely embarrassed, but what the hell? It’s not like we’re in high school or anything. I’m an adult, and if something comes up, I should be able to get a pass without this embarrassing crap.
Heidi, my best friend, interrupts my mental rant by whispering across the room, “Kimber, hey, what are you doing?”
I look around, suddenly aware that everyone is staring at me, waiting for me to find a seat, including Mrs. Cain. My eyes drop to the floor and I scurry to the empty chair next to Heidi. Damn you, Andrew, you just screwed up my whole day.
Heidi leans over, still looking at Mrs. Cain. “I was about to text you. This lady doesn’t play around. You know she won’t give you credit if you miss.”
When she does finally look at me, a different onslaught of questions start. “Are you all right? You look like you just saw a ghost or something.”
“Yeah, someone is more like it. You’ll never guess who the teaching assistant is in my pre-calc class.”
“Who? Don’t keep me in suspense. Is he hot?”
I smirk, this is so typical of Heidi. Becca from work is at one end of the spectrum and Heidi is at the other, both sides their own kind of bad. Becca will go home with anyone that pays her a compliment. Heidi is a pickier version of Becca. If you ask me, she’s on the lookout for a sugar daddy. Yes, harsh, I know, but I tell it like it is.
She persists when I don’t answer right away. “Come on, you’re killing me here. “
A girl on the other side of Heidi interrupts us. “SHHH!”
I glare at her while Heidi gives her a death stare, whispering, “Shhh yourself!”
The girl stiffens and turns the other way, muttering something under her breath.
She turns back to me expectantly.
I concede, “It’s Andrew, all right? Andrew is Dr. Jones’ teaching assistant and somehow I’m going to have to endure seeing him three days a week for the rest of the semester.”
My head sinks down into my arms, suddenly overwhelmed with this new unwanted development. Heidi’s gasp and intake of breath doesn’t surprise me, after all, it shocked the hell out of me, too. A few students nearby shush her again. I peek over my arms, glaring at her.
“Sorry, girl.” She leans in closer. “How are you going to handle that? I know you still feel something for him, admit it. Hey, maybe now that he’s back, you can pick up where you left off.”
If I could kill her right there on the spot with a look, I would. She did not just say that.
She holds up her hands in defense and claims, “You never know. You need to get laid anyway, whether by Andrew or not. Believe me, Kimber, you’ll feel so much better.”
I roll my eyes and look toward Mrs. Cain. She’s discussing our current assignment, to focus on one event and write everything surrounding that event. We are to include feelings of the characters, the description of the setting with the addition of dialogue if needed. She wants everything spun from just one event. Can this day get any worse?
Heidi winks when she tells us to get started and chuckles. “Yeah, I know exactly what your event will be. This is gonna be a good one.”
“Shut up, Heidi. There’s nothing good about this whole thing. It’s shitty, if you want to know the truth.”
She giggles. “But you’re gonna write about it, aren’t you?”
I shake my head and start putting pen to paper. Of course I’m writing about Andrew. He’s been the one bright light in my life when everything else was always on dim; my momma and her problems, my sister leaving, and the fact that I’m stuck here with no way out. As fleeting as it was, I won’t ever regret my time with him, and if he wants to keep it completely platonic now that he’s back, I’ll have to accept that. I am, after all, the one that broke it off.
Heidi whispers as I finish my first paragraph, “Wanna hear about mine?”
“What are you writing about, Heidi? Or should I say which one?”
“Hardy har har. I’m gonna write about my event at Shane’s party last weekend. How Shane couldn’t get enough of me.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea? She probably wants it to be PG.”
She shakes her head and looks back down. “I’ll tone it down just for her. She’s going to wish she has the skills I have.”
I shake my head, looking back down at my own paper and mumble, “No doubt, Heidi.”
Heidi and I have been friends since tenth grade. We met in Spanish class during which we learned not a lick of the language. It was a wasted class but I’m thankful for it because I met Heidi. She has been a saving grace for me on more than one occasion. Especially when Andrew left, I was in pretty bad shape, but she helped pick me up and face life without him.
I have every excuse for taking the long way through college. I’m paying my own way, and for everything else, for that matter. Heidi, on the other hand, has been at it for only two years. She took a year off after high school to figure things out, as she puts it. She’s still figuring things out three years later. Her parents have pretty much supported this mentality. I think she’ll continue to figure things out until they make her grow up.
Ten-thirty rolls around and I’m so engrossed in my writing that Heidi is forced to tap me on the shoulder to get my attention. I glance at my watch and rush to pack my bag. The room has emptied with the exception of Heidi and I. She’s practically tapping her foot.
“Sorry girl, I have to hurry and get to Mrs. Bruin’s.”
“Do you really have to go there today? I was hoping to grab a cup of coffee and catch up,” she whines.
“Heidi, you know I have to go. Not everybody has a free ride like you.”
“That was a low blow, Kimber. Remind me not to talk to you for the remainder of the semester while ‘Mr. Perry’ is your teacher.” She emphasizes his name.
I shake my head, ignoring her reference to Andrew by his last name. “’Kay, whatever, I do have to go. But you should come to the Duck tonight.”
She acts as if she’s thinking about it and wrinkles her nose. “Um, no. You know I wouldn’t be caught dead in that place. Every low-life in this town hangs there.”
I turn on my heel, knowing I’m going to be late if I stand here any longer. She calls out apologetically, “Kimber, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it…”
I turn around, smiling. “Yes, you did. It’s fine. I understand, but I don’t have a choice, you know that. If you aren’t already too busy with a boy toy, you know where to find me.” I add, “Oh and did I mention, I get to sing on Friday nights now.”
Abruptly I turn and walk down the hall, silently hoping I don’t run into Andrew.
She calls out behind me, “Damn, Kimber, you would wait until now to tell me. I want to hear the deets! Okay, I’ll be there tonight, but just this one time. “
A smile spreads across my face as I continue walking. I knew she’d come, guilt has a way of doing that to my bestie.
The walk to my car is quick. Andrew doesn’t make an appearance, which I’m thankful for. To top it off the car starts right up. I move my hand automatically to the dash patting it gently, and I say a quiet thank you for not giving me a hard time. The ride to the Bruins’ goes pretty quick for a twenty-five minute drive. They live outside of town on a sprawling two hundred acre ranch. If I were smart, I would take up helping Mr. Bruin out in the fields. I’d probably earn more, but hard labor really isn’t my thing.
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br /> Pastures of brown grass reach out on either side of the two-lane road. Bruin Ranch, declares the sign above the gate in large, western style letters. The dirt road twists deeper into the property through a canopy of white ash trees, my favorite part of the drive. Finally, I pull up to the grey two-story house stretching to the south. The front porch runs the length of the house. I step out of the car, trying to shake the uneasiness that seeing Andrew caused.
As I climb up the front steps, Mrs. Bruin comes out of the screen door, wiping her hands on a towel. Her light brown hair is pulled up into a bun with wisps of gray falling down, framing her face. She’s dressed in a long cream skirt topped with a chambray button down shirt with her sleeves rolled up. Her blue eyes crinkle with age at the corners as she asks me with concern lacing her voice, “Kimber, is everything okay?”
“Yes, Mrs. Bruin, everything is fine. I got a late start today.”
She nods. “I was getting worried, afraid somethin’ happened to your momma.”
I chuckle more to myself than to her. “No ma’am, she’s still alive and kickin’.”
She looks away at my dry humor. She’s so good to me. I know I shouldn’t show any disrespect, even if it is to my momma who isn’t even here, but sometimes I can’t help the words that come out of my mouth. Usually she ignores me as if I didn’t say anything; other times I’ll get a disapproving look.
I climb the last few steps and follow her into the house. As soon as my foot hits the wooden floor, Michael and Martin run up, each grabbing a leg, squeezing me to death. They both have buzz cuts and blue eyes that mirror their mother’s.
“Whoa there, boys, you’re gonna squeeze me to death.” I fall to the floor dramatically as if they squeezed the life out of my legs. Both boys disengage themselves and burst into fits of laughter. I lean over and grab each one in the chest, tickling them.
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