by Tijan
I cursed. Even typing a threatening and crazy text and my stepmother was using perfect grammar. There had to be a joke in there.
I hadn’t put Stone’s number in my phone, but I knew it was him, and I hit the call button.
He answered with, “Call off your crazy stepmom. We will sue. And I don’t know what the fuck your stepmom is talking about, but my family did nothing to yours.”
A surge of fury was rolling in my belly, but I waited. I counted to ten, and then I said through gritted teeth, “One. That’s not true. Two. I will call her, but not because you’re telling me to. Three. I also don’t know where she’s getting this idea from because trust me, dealing with you is the last thing I want.” After a beat. I clipped out, “Do me a favor? Lose my number.”
I hung up on him. Again. And it felt damn good.
Chapter Six
The history with Stone wasn’t completely between him and me. It was more between his father and mine, or to be more accurate, between my dad’s employer and my father. The timing was all suspect, but my dad was the manager for their grocery store. Then my mom was diagnosed with cancer and we tried to keep it under wraps, but rumor got out, and within a week my dad was served his walking papers.
While my dad was trying to find another job, my mom was about to start chemo when we lost our health insurance due to my father getting the boot. A month went by. Nothing. He wasn’t getting hired. Another month. Nothing. Three. Four. We were going on six months when finally, someone three towns over confided to a friend of a friend that word of mouth was saying not to hire Mitch Phillips.
He’d been blacklisted by Stone’s dad. Why? We had no idea.
We tried to find out the reason, but no one was fessing up until a friend of my mom’s overheard a man talking in the local bar. The guy was ranting about how Charles Reeves knew it was bad what he did, firing a man whose wife was just diagnosed with cancer, and he wanted to push the Phillips family out of town to stem any bad gossip.
It backfired.
This was all happening my senior year of school. Stone had gone on to join a D1 school and he was a rising football star, but he’d always been a superstar on the field. Another reason why Charles Reeves wanted to get my family out of town, in case media came sniffing around for a feel-good story about a local boy getting drafted by fancy colleges and maybe even the NFL down the road. He didn’t want us to give them a scandal instead, or so the gossip mill was saying.
Because we were so in debt from the cancer treatments, we lost the house.
We moved into an apartment close to the hospital so I could remain in school that last year, and then we found out three months later that the Reeves family bought our house and land from the bank for a steal. They renovated it into a local Airbnb.
Stone scored the winning touchdown for his football championship game, and that night my mom died. We had spiraled so far into debt, there was no getting out for us. I don’t think anyone could fault my family for the resentment that we held for the Reeves family. I knew there was some on my part. I expected equal amount on my dad’s part.
I hadn’t known there was some on Gail’s part.
And the next day, after I went with Siobhan to check on some seriously cute seahorses, I knew the time for my phone call had come. I would’ve signed up for anything else instead of having to call Gail and deal with this. Even spending time with Stone. Gasp. Shrinks in horror, but yes. Even spending time with Stone would be preferable than doing this.
All that said, I couldn’t stall anymore.
If they were threatening a lawsuit, I knew they’d go through with it. They had money. We did not. They’d already almost buried us. I didn’t want to give them another chance to dig that shovel down any further into our despair. I wasn’t sure how much more we could take, so I was sitting in my car, in my parking spot behind the house, as I made the call.
The house was still empty and I was assuming it would be until everyone returned the next day, or tonight, but I still didn’t want to chance being overheard.
“Honey! What a pleasant surprise.”
God. I ached inside. She was so happy.
“Your father and I are just moving out to the patio with a cup of coffee. I know you’re off, pursuing your dream, but I was just wishing you were here. A phone call is the best surprise yet.”
Christ.
This was going to be hard.
I closed my eyes, readying myself. “I got a phone call from Stone.”
She was quiet on her end.
I waited.
I heard my dad ask, “What’d she say?”
Still, she was quiet. Then, a soft, “Oh, honey. I didn’t want you to have to deal with that.”
My voice was low, gravelly, like Stone’s had been. “He sent me the text you sent to Barb.”
“Oh, dear.”
That was so not what I wanted to hear.
“Oh, dear?” I repeated her words to her. “What were you thinking?”
“I thought since Stone is down there, and you’re there, and I’ve heard so many stories about how close the two of you were—”
I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.
Her words were twisting around in my head, mixing with my own memories, and all of it was bad. All of it was tainted. I could feel my mom. I could feel when her hand went slack. I was back there instead, in the room when she died, and Gail was on the phone instead of her.
“Stop,” I yelled, my voice hoarse. I was so raw, so fucking raw. “Just. Stop.”
My mom.
She’d been there.
Then she was gone.
The chemo hadn’t worked. The cancer progressed too fast.
I watched my mother die.
“Dusty, honey.”
My dad’s rough voice broke out, “Let me talk to her! I’ll handle this.”
“No!” Gail snapped back with a voice I had never heard before from her. She said harshly, “You’ll make it worse.” Then she was back, and quieter, soft again. “Honey. I’m sorry. I just thought he’s down there. You’re there. I’ve seen you both suffer so much, and his family owes us. His family owes you.”
“No!” I couldn’t stomach anymore. Gail came into the picture after my mom was buried. She heard the stories, and I was now realizing she’d been getting ideas that I did not want her to have. “Let me explain this.” I was speaking in a voice I had never heard before myself. My skin had been turned inside out. There was nothing to hide behind now. I felt like everything was scraped off of me. That’s what enduring that year had done to me. “You really need to hear me.”
I waited. I needed a moment to gather myself.
I felt like I was crumbling.
“I hate Stone Reeves.”
I heard her gasp on the other end.
I kept on, “I hate him with a passion I didn’t even know I possessed, and I was already hating him long before what his father did to us. I moved down here because my mom told me to reach for my dreams. I moved down here because I went through something; well, something that taught me life is actually short and I need to be making decisions for me. And saying that, it was something that I hadn’t already learned through losing my mother. But having said that, life is not short enough where I would ever want Stone Reeves back in it.”
She was sniffling now.
I refused to. “Let it go. Let whatever notion you have in your head about how this is going to resolve itself because it’s not going to happen.”
“But—”
“He called me. He texted me. He said they’ll sue if you don’t stop. Gail, please. Don’t put my father and me through more pain.”
I was there again, holding my mom’s hand.
“I can’t survive another round with that family.”
I felt her hand go, again. It was always again. Over and over again, and I worked so hard to push that memory away, but it was back.
It was going to haunt me.
“Please.” A whisper from me.
I felt dead inside. “Tell my father I love him.” Then I hung up and texted Stone.
Me: It’s done.
I didn’t give him a chance to respond. I blocked his number.
As far as I was concerned, Stone Reeves was out of my life for good.
Chapter Seven
Studying with Siobhan and Trent was more about drinking beer and avoiding the television because it was set to the football game. And watching the two of them flirt without really flirting, but both totally knowing they were flirting.
It was fun to watch, but I was also cold to it.
I didn’t like that I was like that, but I was. Romance. Sexual chemistry. Even the fun at the beginning, like what they’re going through right now, I was turned off to it. There was a firm wall built in me, and Siobhan whispered at one point that Trent had a roommate and if I was interested, he’d invite him out for me. She asked and nothing. Stone cold—crap. Wrong phrase. Deadness inside.
That’s what I was, but I knew that wasn’t normal. I mean, it made sense to me why I was like that. The event I went through before coming here…yeah, my throat was swelling up. Emotions that I didn’t want to deal with swept up at a startling rate and I felt my throat choking up.
I pushed it down. Another firm shove, just like with all the other uncomfortable and painful stuff.
Fine. I’d be this way. But I’d fake it. I’d have to. Give me a course in marine mammals and I’d be happy as a clam. Offer to set me up, and full on arctic blast inside of me. No one likes someone who is apathetic to the excitement going on in their lives, though. That’s the problem. That wasn’t a good way to make and keep friends, and I wanted Siobhan to be my friend. I almost needed it, desperately. If I didn’t have one friend, then who was I and what was my purpose?
I’d have to travel back to the worry from before that there was something truly unfixable about me.
I gripped my glass just thinking about that, and glancing down, I thought belatedly that I needed to loosen my grip. My fingers were white. I was either going to shatter the glass, or I was going to break my fingers. One or the other.
Expelling a harsh breath, I forced myself to stop thinking. That’s how I’d get through life right now. No thoughts about personal stuff. Just academia. Marine biology. I could recite the forty-four species of dolphins frontwards and backwards in my sleep, and I salivated over learning more. That was my goal. Eye on the prize. That’s what I’d do, and clipping my head in a firm nod to myself, feeling all rallied from my own pep-talk, I crossed the bar back to where Trent and Siobhan were leaning with their heads angled toward the other.
Crap.
Maybe I should make my exit? I told her I would if she gave me the word, but we’d never discussed what the code word would be.
I tried to wordlessly ask Siobhan as I slid onto my stool, but she lifted her head up with a welcoming smile. And some relief. The lines around her mouth slackened at me coming back from getting a refill. Okay. I’d be staying a bit longer.
“It’s picking up in here.”
Trent was looking over my shoulder toward the door and the rest of the bar. We were in a corner, but I noticed the expanding crowd as well on the way back. A surge of customers came in just as I was getting my beer.
Siobhan frowned. “Well, it is eight, and it’s the campus bar. The game probably finished and everyone’s making their way back into town.”
Trent cursed, shoving up his glasses. He frowned. “You’re right. I forgot the first official game was today.”
Siobhan explained to me. “The other bar is the normal hang-out when there’s an off campus game, and now this one will be at full capacity. The team usually comes back after and sometimes they stop here before going wherever they go. Both places will be swamped the rest of the night.” She was looking around. “I forgot. I mean, I knew, but I forgot.” Her eyes lingered on Trent a moment, almost apologetic.
He looked, caught her, and both turned away quickly.
I would’ve been amused, or felt I should’ve been amused, if I wasn’t thinking about how my house would probably be party central tonight. If the team was coming back, I knew my roommates would be, too.
“Let’s get out of here!” My outburst surprised even me.
Both blinked at me a moment, then Trent started grabbing his stuff. “I second that. We can go to my house. No football game. We can study, or…” he paused, his gaze warming and holding on Siobhan, “just hang out.”
Her eyes got wide. “Is your roommate there?”
Her quick glance my way told me what she was thinking and shit, damn, fuck. I didn’t need that. I was so beyond needing that. Panic and claustrophobia and sheer terror rained down on me, and I had to stop. I had to breathe. I had to remain for a second, and then, another moment. It was still with me.
I was paralyzed, but I knew my face didn’t show it.
I’d perfected that bit over the last year. He couldn’t see me scared. I never gave him the satisfaction. I wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction, and then I wasn’t there anymore. I was back at the Quail and I was in a college five states away.
I.
Could.
Be.
Just be.
The cement grip that overtook me loosened and I blinked. I was past it, and I was the only one not putting my stuff in my bag.
“You gonna drink that?” Siobhan referenced my drink.
Drink. Alcohol. Right. “Can I ride with you?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
I downed my beer. All of it. A full sixteen-ounce glass.
Even Trent looked taken aback. A guy next to our table whistled, “Way to go! You open that throat, baby.”
I reacted without a thought, snarling at him, “Shut the fuck up.” And sweeping my stuff into my bag, I was off my stool and ready to go.
The guy’s face was clouding with anger, but he’d been there the whole time we were. He’d been drinking and watching the football game, and I knew he was too slow to react. And I’d been paying attention to his entire table in the back of my mind because that’s what someone like me does. We pay attention.
And once I got to my feet, I could see the words forming.
He started to reach out.
Nope. Not today.
I evaded him, but then he had my bag.
He wasn’t thinking clearly, and to an extent, past haunts were clouding my own thoughts, so I didn’t hesitate to twist out from my bag, then bring my elbow down hard on his arm. He dropped the bag. I caught it, and before he could react to that, I stomped down hard on his foot.
He howled, grabbing for it, but that brought his head to the table, and he cursed again.
His buddies were dumbfounded. Two started to get up, but I pointed at them and clipped out, “Not a move. He made an offensive remark. I replied. Then he grabbed me. I defended myself. You say one word, I’ll call the cops and I have witnesses and video to back me up.” I snapped my fingers, pointing to the corners of the ceiling. There were no video cameras there, but there were televisions, and the guys would be too confused to investigate.
Trent and Siobhan were almost gawking behind me. I didn’t wait. I’d handled this scene stronger than I should’ve and I knew the quicker you got free, the better.
I got free.
Siobhan and Trent stared at me outside the bar, both with owl-like expressions. Eyes blinking. Mouth pursed tight.
I didn’t like that I’d done that. I showed a side of myself I didn’t like to expose.
Coming here, five states away, was to start new. Not remember the old me. Me reacting to that guy just now, that was the old me. And I really didn’t want to get into why I had to be that way in the past. No way. No how. No, siree.
“That beer’s going to hit me in about two minutes. Can I still ride with you?”
Siobhan jerked awake, startling forward. “Yeah. Uh. My car’s ove
r here.”
“Sha, you know how to get to my place?”
She was crossing the parking lot but nodded. “I remember. Last Biofest, remember?”
Trent’s face brightened. “Oh, yeah! I forgot. Yeah, okay. See you guys there. AJ’s there. You can ring up. I might stop and grab a few things on the way.”
I noticed the little grin on Siobhan’s face as we got to her car and got inside. And because I knew a friend would say it, I teased, “He’s getting a few things. Like condoms?”
“Shut up!”
But she was blushing and blushing hard.
Starting and reversing out of the parking spot, she moved around until we were following Trent out of the parking lot.
She waited until a stoplight before muttering, “Besides, I’m not that kind of girl.”
“What kind? The kind who likes sex?”
Back to the blushing. She was full-on red sea star. “You know.” She moved around in her seat, her cheek suddenly pulling in. “The kind who has sex on the first night.”
“How long have you known Trent?”
“It’s not the same thing.”
I wasn’t following. This I wasn’t faking. I said it almost tenderly, “Having sex with someone you have feelings for, no matter how many hours you’ve spent together, isn’t a bad thing.”
She swallowed, shoving upright in her seat. Her hands tightened on the wheel. “It is if he thinks you’re a slut after.”
The question wasn’t if she knew a guy who’d do that. Guys did that. It was a question if she thought Trent would do that.
“For what it’s worth, I’m pretty certain, and by certain I mean I’m like 99.8% sure that Trent is completely into you.” I nudged her arm, lightly. “I get the double standards, but if you like sex and you like Trent, then what’s really stopping you? I’ve known relationships that start that way. And honestly, life’s too short to worry about that stuff.”
A gnawing and hollow ache was forming in my chest, rooting and digging deep in there. My words hitting a little close to home.