“I need all the friends I can get,” I reached out for his hand. He took it, our fingers weaving together in a way that... didn’t at all... feel like friendship.
Silas.
I tried so damn hard to stay away from her, to just bide my time until she texted and said she needed something. It felt like a damn eternity, and I couldn’t take it any longer. I knew when the cafeteria operated for dinner. I knew where her dorm was.
I drove slowly towards the campus, every cell in my body pulling me towards her faster. I thought the need had lessened. I was beginning to convince myself that it was just some weird lust thing. I’d seen her, thought she was gorgeous, and fallen hard. If she hadn’t had such a shit backstory, if she hadn’t been through so much, I could have just pursued her, had her, and left her. I could have dropped her like a discarded needle after I’d pushed its contents between my toes.
But she wasn’t just an object of lust. She wasn’t something I wanted to discard.
Seeing her round the corner towards her dorm made my heart thump fast and furious. Her face was better than I remembered, like the few days since I’d seen her had dulled the vision in my head. If Laurie was an angel, then Anna was the freaking Madonna, child and all.
I DIDN’T WANT TO LET go of her hand, but I had to.
She wanted... no she needed... friendship. Maybe she didn’t feel the way my palm was on fire when in contact with her skin. Maybe she couldn’t hear the rush of blood pushing through my veins, set afire at the very breath of her.
Get a fucking grip, man. “Will you text me now? Just to let me know you’re doing okay?”
She nodded and let go of my hand. I hated that. It hurt. “I will. Thank you. These should last me forever. There’s no one I really need to call.”
Me. Just call me. Text me. Don’t worry about anyone else.
“I’m glad they’re enough. I almost bought double that.” I lopsided grinned and ran my hand through my hair nervously. “Anything you need now? I can run you over to the store?”
She shook her head, and my heart fractured. “No, I’m okay. And I’ve got some reading to do tonight. My Lit professor seems to think we can read an entire book in a night and also write a paper on it.”
“Ouch,” I grimaced. “That’s a bit brutal.”
“College isn’t supposed to be easy I guess,” she smiled. “So... I’ll text you then?” She held up the bag and shook it a little for effect.
“Yeah, yeah,” I tried to sound upbeat. “Anytime you want.”
She turned around after giving me one last shy smile. Her hand holding the phone bag fell to her side limply, but her fingers... those were clinging onto the bag for dear life. Her knuckles were going pale, lighter and lighter the further away she got. I wanted to walk to her, wrap my arms around her back, pull her to me. I wanted to do anything, anything that would loosen her grip, because it was so obvious that she was holding herself together with white school glue. Not super adhesive. She wasn’t permanently protected from breaking.
I wanted to... to pour into her. Emotionally.
To take her like some artisans do with fractured stoneware. Melt down pure gold, fill the cracks, let them harden, until she was the most beautiful version of herself—made so by every little metallic imperfection.
Fading sunlight glowed around her as she left me.
A full body angel halo.
I HADN’T WRITTEN, REALLY written, in so damn long.
But the memory of Anna walking away from me was burning a hole in my psyche, like a kid with his allowance in a candy store.
I dug through my wardrobe until I found my pile of shitty comp notebooks. Black and white and reeking of middle school pre-term shopping list. I smiled as I glanced at some lyrics, groaned at others. It was like a roller coaster of my dramatic, high-as-a-fucking-kite feelings over the years.
Memories
Killing my brain like cocaine
Want to lay my body down
In the way of a fast train
Kissing him was kissing fate
And help’s a bitch that comes too late
I wrote that shortly after Asher died.
Don’t even got a dime
For another second of his time
God don’t make mistakes
At least that’s what they say
Then why the fuck am I around?
I’m a body of fault
Full of the drug I bought
Trying to get clean. Trying to forget. Always, always fucking remembering.
Keep me dirty, keep me dark
To death’s house I do embark
Call me bitter, call me cruel
I won’t play the drug’s next fool
Not again
A month clean. Fighting the urge.
I won’t play the drug’s next fool. Not. Again.
I moved to my desk next and rummaged through the drawer until I found a case filed with chewed-up pencils. I kept them, even though I’d broken that particular habit. Tanner used to joke that I went through a million pencils while getting sober. Gnawing helped me ignore the itching in my wrists, between my toes, inside every cell of my body.
Halo around your soul
Never getting old
You walk away and every cell inside me aches
Reminds me of this long lost pain
And all the losses to make the gain
He had a smile that made devils cry
But you’ve got the angels on your side
Different sides, the same damn coin
I’ll flip and flip, ignore the hold
You’ve got on me, already no denying
Girl like sin, you’ve got me dying
Forget this
Forget everything
Everything, Everything
Forget this
Forget everything...
I can’t.
I’ll flip and flip, ignore the hold
You’ve got on me, already no denying
Girl like sin
You’ve got me dying
I flip pages, fast and furiously, skimming pages already scribbled-on. I always jumped around. I never filled page-after-page. It didn’t feel right to do that, to make my art linear. So I flipped and mused, and sent every damn word to the laughing god above.
Anna
Where fates collide
Shattered, big bang theory tragic
Changing universes with a changing body
Life in the balance
Pluto’s not a planet, but she is
Circling around, like gravity pulling me
Moon gazing, star beaming
Completely lost when the sun exploded
Don’t want to die in the dark alone
I nearly jumped out of my skin when my phone pinged across the room. Probably mom. But then my pulse quickened. It could be Anna. I’d pre-programmed my number, and I was realizing now that the whole thing was pushy. So damn pushy. I’d been so caught up in wanting to be in touch with her, in wanting her to be able to get in touch with me any time she needed.
A: It feels strange having my own phone. I’ve been staring at it for hours wondering if I should use it.
My hands shook a little as I began to type. Stupid. Ridiculous. Usually writing helped me work out these feelings, but they’d left me more raw this time. A livewire after a storm flicking around near rain puddles.
Of course you should use it. It’s yours.
A: I know.
Everything okay?
A: Yes. Everything’s fine. Thank you, Silas. But...
The ‘but’ followed by the ellipse made me swallow hard. I didn’t want to know what was coming.
But I need to back off? I responded preemptively. My daddy always said if you knew a train wreck was coming, get the hell in front of it and try to slow the damage.
A: Maybe. Just a little. I have so much going on. I don’t know if I can handle...whatever this is.
I don’t want anything from you, Anna. I ju
st want to help.
A: You say that.
It’s the truth.
A: My truth is that no man ever gave me anything without wanting something in return. And the price has always been pain. Complete pain.
You text me if and when you want, Anna. I won’t push you. Anymore. I added the last word so she’d know I realized I’d been too much. I’d been too heavy. I’d been Asher on a binge night, rushing forward and knocking me into a wall with drunk, overwhelming passion.
A: I will.
I wanted to send her another message, to ask her to keep me posted on the baby. To take care of herself. To...
But I didn’t. Because she’d been clear.
She needed space. And I needed to give it to her, or I was a shitty excuse for a man. For a human being.
I had energy, black cloud energy that threatened lightning. My insides were burning. Passion. Rage. An emotional hurricane. Writing wasn’t going to help, not right now. I yanked off my clothing and pulled on my dirty basketball shorts and ripped tank top. I grabbed my keys and wallet and I headed to the gym. I needed to run.
The small local gym was more crowded than usual. I had to wait for a treadmill so I chose instead to hit one of the combination weight machines and work out my arms. I set the tension to fifty pounds and I sat down, pumping my arms forward and back. I tried to not lose control, to breathe evenly and push rhythmically. Instead, I found myself breathing too hard, then holding my breath too long. I jerked back and forth, then went too slow in an effort to regain composure.
I abandoned the weights as soon as a treadmill freed-up. The incline was already high, and I left it. When I placed the safety magnet on the machine and pressed start, it auto-began at 5 miles an hour. Faster than my normal, more intense.
I ran, as fast as I possibly could.
I ran and I ran and I ran.
Trying to escape everything.
Over the next few weeks, the gym was my sanctuary.
It was the church I prayed in for guidance.
Communion was sweat and the meat of my fingers, worn bloody and raw.
I was the body of denial, not forgiveness. Hoping that running one more mile would keep me from thinking about her... angel Anna.
And I worshiped like my fucking life depended on it, hoping to erase her face.
I picked up extra work shifts too, even ones with that bastard Denny. I listened to his lewdness, wanting his cavalier romantic nature to rub off on me. Nothing worked.
Nothing was going to work. Anna was sewed into my soul now.
Anna.
~3 weeks later~
“I studied so hard, Nat.” I sank onto the bed, tears already spilling from my eyes. “I’m just so tired.” The sociology test that sported a bright red F at the top taunted me. With the curve, I’d still ended up with a C. But that didn’t feel real. It didn’t matter. For all intents and purposes, I’d failed. Sociology. The subject I wanted to major in. Total. Failure.
Nat, still wearing her pink pajamas because she only had afternoon classes on Thursday, came over and sat next to me, wrapping her long brown arm around my shoulders. “Babe, it’s going to happen. College isn’t easy. And you’ve been sleeping like crap for over a week. You can’t function if you can’t sleep. I mean, think of it this way—you’ve gotten As and Bs on literally everything else.”
“I know. I know.” I held up an opened letter from the school. “At least I finally got my medical stuff. I can see a doctor maybe.”
“I think you need to. Bestie code number thirty-five—are we on thirty-five or thirty-six?—friends make sure friends stay healthy.”
I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall, Nat’s arm still around my body. “I wonder how Silas is doing.” I breathed out the words, not for the first time, and Nat groaned.
“Not this again. Anna, either text him or don’t text him.”
“You remember what he looks like, right? Hundred and ten percent, he’s moved on to some other half-pretty college girl far from home.” I hugged my body and opened my eyes to stare at the cell phone he’d given me.
“He didn’t seem like that kind of guy at all, Anna. And I’ve been your roommate for exactly nine days. You’ve mentioned him at least three times a day since then. So, basically, I’ve heard you moaning over the dude like twenty-seven times. Twenty-seven? Nine times three? I hate math. Boy, dad is going to be not so happy when I tell him my decided major on Saturday. Happy freaking Parent Weekend.”
“And the decision is?” I quirked an eyebrow at her.
“Theatre, darling!” She dramatically let go of my shoulders and draped her entire body over my lap. “And I want to take lots and lots of courses from the Japanese and Korean catalogue, because you know how I feel about my K-pop.”
Nine days, and I certainly did know how Nat felt about K-pop, K-dramas, and a certain group named BTS.
“How do you think your dad’s going to take the news?” I leaned over and took the cell phone, which still felt foreign in my hand.
“Eh. I’ll take him out for a few scoops of mint chocolate chip and he’ll be right as rain.”
I pulled up my messages with Silas and read them over. I’d been the one that asked him to back away. I’d wanted to re-center myself, get back on track.
But I’d just failed a test.
What if I wasn’t cut out for this? Pregnant in college. Struggling to stay awake and study. I couldn’t fail out of school. Where would that leave me and little bean?
“Hey, text him already.” Nat nudged me before getting off the bed and scooting towards her dresser for clothes. “And I told my dad you’d be hanging with us this weekend. I hope that’s okay.”
I smiled, grateful that I wouldn’t feel so alone this weekend. “That sounds perfect. Now hurry up and go get changed. You’ve only got an hour before class.”
“Okay, mom.” Nat winked, and pranced out of the room and towards the coed bathrooms.
Alone, I took a deep breath and set the phone back down. I wasn’t ready to reach out to Silas. Maybe if I waited just a little longer, the nonsense feelings I had for him would fade away. I had my medical information now, but the school was also supposed to mail a list of providers in the area who took my new insurance. It was only a short walk to the post office and my tiny postal box. Pushing my feet into shoes, I grabbed my purse and headed out the door. Before leaving our floor, I poked my head into the coed bathroom and told Nat where I was going.
Outside, back in the sunshine, I tried to dismiss the absolute awfulness of failing a test. It was one test, and in the grand scheme of things not the ultimate decider of my life. Though, right now, it sort of felt like that. As I paused at the crosswalk that lead across the street from campus and towards the post office, I leaned my head back and let the warm star rays bathe my face. It felt so good, like a warm blanket when the whole world was Arctic cold.
It’s just one test, little bean. I promise I’ll do better. I promise I’ll be ready to be your mom when the time comes. I touched my stomach. The slightest curve of body greeted my fingers. I was going to have to tell Nat soon. She saw me take off my shirt every day now when I changed into pajamas. I wasn’t going to be able to hide the pregnancy for much longer. I wondered how she’d take it. Would she want to change rooms again? Would she ask a million questions that I didn’t want to answer?
Probably. To both.
I waved at the white-haired postal worker as I walked through the automatic sliding doors and passed the service desk on my way to a small outcropping of boxes—the smallest ones in the whole place, but all I could afford to upkeep. Mentally, I crossed my fingers as I slid in the key and turned it. If the physicians list was here, I could go right back to the dorm and call to make an appointment somewhere. I could have found a phone book, or used Nat’s computer, to search around and call and ask if they took the student coverage, but... I just hated that sort of blind search. Especially if a little patience would ease the process.
The
tiny door swung open with a soft squeal of protest. I sighed when I saw a thick envelope that had the navy blue stamp of the school—the main hall with the college name swirled beneath. I grabbed it with relieved fingers and went to close the door, but hesitated when I saw a second envelope. This one was dingy, with a view window for a bill address. But it wasn’t a bill, and the viewing window had been covered with black tape. The black tape made my eyes widen a little.
And I felt a little sick at the memory the mere sight of black tape induced—a particularly rough night where he’d taped my mouth shut.
Stupid though. It had nothing to do with him.
I made myself take the envelope, even though I really wanted to just close the small postal box door and walk away.
Above the black tape was my name. Below that my postal box address. It was all written in red. A red pen. Black tape. Red pen. No return address.
It was the handwriting that made my body begin to shake though. The masculine, oversized scrawl. The all uppercase letters. The obvious roughness of the person who’d written it—with the paper almost torn in a few places.
I sunk to the floor, gripping that envelope like it was a tell-tale heart and I was Poe going madder by the minute. The information from the school had slid from my grip and was a few feet away from me on the slick tile floor. I felt tears burn hotly at the corners of my eyes as I tore open the white and black and red letter.
ANNA
DID YOU REALLY THINK YOU COULD LEAVE? SELFISH STUPID BITCH. YOUR MOTHER’S BEEN ON MY ASS NONSTOP TO FIND YOU. FUCKING BLAMES ME. BLAMES ME! BEING ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GODDAMN COUNTRY CAN’T SAVE YOU. PARENT WEEKEND? GOT THE FUCKING INVITE FROM YOUR SCHOOL. I’LL BE THERE. YOUR MOTHER WON’T. AND I’M FUCKING BRINGING YOU BACK HOME YOU UNGRATEFUL BITCH.
He hadn’t signed the letter. He didn’t need to. I’d thought of everything... at least I thought I had. The school must have kept my original address on file. The address my ‘parents’ were at.
My first instinct was to flee. I had to leave the school. I had to save myself, and little bean. My stepfather couldn’t find out.
The Beat Around Us (The Heartbeat Series, #2) Page 7