She shoves at my chest, barely moving me, but the blows I feel from her words hit their mark.
“Do you get some sick satisfaction out of stringing me along? Out of hurting me every single time? That is not what best friends do, Kyle!”
Tears stain her cheeks and before I can think about it, I am pulling her into my arms. She’s fighting me, but it soon subsides. She is lightly sobbing in my embrace and it cuts me like a knife to hear her cry. I caused this…
I always do.
“Savannah,” I whisper brokenly, not knowing what else to say.
Slowly, her cries subside and she is pliant in my arms. She’s returning my embrace now and we are just standing there, boy and girl, holding onto each other as if the world has stopped turning just for us. How I’ve missed her.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Becky?” Her eyes beg me for truth. I knew she would have asked me about this one day. Tonight is as good a night as any.
“I wasn’t sure I could be there for both of you at the same time. Becky wasn’t your favorite person. How could I ask you to be okay with being there for her all the time? So I stayed quiet. Like a coward,” I explain. “Then, when I came back for Christmas…I don’t know what I planned on doing, but it didn’t include Cam.”
She chews on her lip, a look in her eye that tells me she has something to say. I’m not keen on having her rip me a new one over her boyfriend…no matter how much the thought sours my stomach. I would be a hypocrite. I know being around Claire can’t be easy for her either.
So, I soldier on, “I couldn’t bear to lose you, Sav. That has always been my fear: what if we change the dynamics of our friendship and then things go sour? I’d prefer to have you as my best friend than lose you as a girlfriend.”
I hope she gets it; hope she understands my turmoil. There is a far-off look on her face, but then she closes her eyes and nods. Sighing, a different kind of weight settles on my chest. I’m glad she understands, but I almost want her to call bullshit. We know what we feel.
“Tell me about her?” she requests, and I have no choice but to. She’s looking up at me with those beautiful eyes and clutching her…my globe necklace.
Captivated, I go on to tell her how funny Claire is, how deeply Southern and sweet she is. I tell her about the many Southern sayings I have adapted since we’ve been together and Savannah laughs when I tell her that my favorite one is Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat. I tell her how we met and Savi is all smiles when I finish.
“Was that so hard?” she teases, bumping into me playfully.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” I say, sighing. “It feels good to finally tell you about her.”
“Good. We’re best friends, Kyle. The distance between us already keeps us apart. Anytime we get the opportunity to see each other, let’s embrace it.” I’m nodding my head in agreement to everything she says. She’s right. We can’t let our friendship die, despite wanting more in my heart of hearts.
“And stop avoiding my texts, will ya?” she demands, flashing me her cell phone screen. “Your responses have been drier than a…” she pauses, and then asks, “What would Claire say?”
I think for a few seconds before responding, “Drier than a peppermint fart!”
We burst into laughter and Savi snorts while trying to stop, which only makes us laugh harder. The rest of the night is spent catching each other up on the last month. I begrudgingly listen to her harp on about Cam and grit my teeth when she gets a wistful look on her face talking about how good he is. The thought of him touching her is rage inducing, but I can’t imagine that it was easy hearing about Claire either, so I endure it.
Barely.
We end up finding an on-campus mini mart where I buy us strawberry Pop Tarts, while Savi gets us purple soda. Closer to the party, we plant our asses under one of the huge oak trees in front of the frat house and eat our pastime and sip our memories. We laugh like old times, compete for the loudest burp, and play wrestle each other for the last Pop Tart before breaking it in a clean half and sharing it…all like we used to.
At the end of the night, when it’s time for them to go, I hold on to my best friend for minutes, taking a mental note of her smell with me. I had not realized how much I missed her until tonight. Until now…
“I know we didn’t talk much, Claire, but it was great meeting you,” Savi says when we pull apart.
I see Claire hesitate for a tiny moment, but the Southern Belle in her kicks in when she smiles wide and pulls my best friend in for a hug. Savi’s surprised, as am I. For sure I thought my girlfriend was going to shank my best friend.
Lives spared, Claire and I walk them back to their car – Grayson’s new pickup – hand in hand. Becky yawns, almost toppling over with how tired she is. She throws her arms around me and it reminds me of how affectionate Becky was when we were together. Always wanting to hug or touch me in some way.
“You okay, Becky Becks?” I ask, scanning her face. I hope she didn’t overdo it tonight.
“Never better, Kyle,” she answers with a kind of serenity. She links her arm through Savi’s and settles her head on her shoulder before sighing contentedly and repeating, “Never better.”
“Be careful on the road, Grayson,” I warn my cousin, which is code for: Protect Savannah. He gives me a pissed off look, but nods. If there is anyone I can rely on to take care of my girl, it’s him.
We say our goodbyes one last time, and I tuck my girl under my arm as my home drives away from me.
That is when it occurs to me that, in my head just now, I called Savi “my girl”.
Chapter Sixteen – Haunting You For Life Sounded Just As Good
Kyle – Past
March 2009
AFTER THAT VISIT from Savannah, Grayson and Becky, Claire and I went back to my room where I spent hours talking about my friends upon her insistence. I had left out a huge chunk about Savi. If she picked up on it, she didn’t let on. She had remained silent after I spoke but eventually cuddled up to me, granting me a sense of relief when she fell asleep moments later.
That night, I got to think about Savi in silence. I had ended up doing more than that when I dreamt about her that night, and felt heaps of guilt when I woke Claire up just to lose myself inside of her in an attempt to rid my brain of any thoughts of my best friend.
Claire and I eventually fall into a routine of phone calls, weekend visits, baseball games and show jumping, Ramen nights and sex-filled weekends (to catch up on the week we would have missed). Before we know it, we are at the three-month mark, and I can’t pinpoint when it happened, but I know I love this girl.
I am taking her out tonight and I have never been so nervous in my entire life. There is only one moment that tops this nervousness, but I can’t think about Savi now. Not when the moment in question involves us in the sand…
I fix my hair in the mirror for the tenth time, willing it to stay slicked back. I am wearing a long-sleeved, fitted black dress shirt that seems to strain across my chest and black jeans with loafers. Claire has opted to get ready in Theo’s room.
We have a reservation at an upscale Italian restaurant about three miles from Duchannes. I heard the food is good, but I am already thinking about dessert – my slice of Claire pie. Fucking her has become my favorite thing to do. She is so spirited and fucking nimble…
And now I’ve got a hard-on.
A knock comes to the door and I quickly fling it open, unprepared for the sight I would see before me. The first thing I notice is that her beautiful hair is in a neat bun. Usually, I enjoy seeing it wild around her face, but for some reason, tonight, it’s sexy as fuck. Her neck is exposed, and I have visions of me sinking my teeth in like a damn vampire with a thing for blondes.
She is wearing a short, sleeveless white dress that hugs her torso but flares from the waist to mid-thigh. Her smooth legs seem to go on forever and, as my eyes trail hot stares over her body, my cock pulses seeing she has cowboy boots on.
With the spurs.<
br />
“Baby,” I breathe, ready to ditch our plans for food to eat her instead.
“Oh no, mister,” she argues. “I know that look. And with how good you’re lookin’, I just might let you eat me alive, but I’m hungrier’n a fat girl on a diet at a supermarket on a shopping spree. Let’s go.”
She hustles me out of the room and waits for me to lock up before we set off to the restaurant. The car ride there is pure torture for both of us. We are handsy and playful the entire time, to the point where I have to pull over to get her off. My balls are heavy by the time we get to the restaurant, ready to get lost inside her, but I restrain myself.
She doesn’t know it yet, but I’ve got a hotel room booked for what I plan to do to her tonight.
The restaurant is cozy with its brown and wine red color scheme. We are seated in wooden chairs with plush wine red seats by the maître d’, who places woven-hinged menus in front of us on an authentic wooden table covered by a checkered red a white table cloth. He leaves us with an embellished bow and a waiter comes by a few seconds later with a pitcher of water. After pulling out each of our napkins and laying them across our laps, he pours us water.
“Welcome to The Beautiful Country,” he says with a distinctly Italian accent. “Mi chiamo, Arturo, and I will be your waiter this evening.”
Arturo goes into the menu options and Claire takes him in, captivated. She is radiant, beautiful as ever, and I feel lucky. We place our orders and Arturo leaves us with a bow – what is with this restaurant and its staff bowing?
A soft song is playing over the speakers, one with a slow staccato rhythm, soulful and sweet all at the same time. Claire’s eyes fall closed and her body sways gently to the music. I stare at her, love tumbling out of me like some kinda chick flick. I can’t remember the last time someone captivated me so much. I can, but it is definitely not the time to think about my best friend.
My hand reaches for hers and when her eyes open, she smiles. I don’t need to wait until I’m balls deep inside her to tell her how I feel.
“Claire,” I start, ready to lay my heart on the table.
I close my eyes to calm my racing heartbeat. A flash of purple cuts across my periphery and I shake my head to clear it of any distraction.
“Claire, these past few months have been the best. Meeting you has done wonders for what would’ve been my dry as fuck sex life,” I tell her, giving her a wink when she throws her napkin at me.
We chuckle, but I sober up. This is no time for jokes.
“Claire, I–”
A call comes just as I reach out and thread my fingers through Claire’s, my confession of my love for her interrupted. A flash of annoyance cuts across her face and I fumble to pull my cell from my pocket to turn it off. My brows furrow, however, when I see Becky’s name. Since we’ve broken up, Becky hasn’t so much as texted or butt-dialed me. I have a hard time believing that she would be calling now. Unless…
“I’m sorry, Claire,” I apologize, a sinking feeling in my stomach. “I need to take this.”
Claire’s annoyance gives way to concern when she sees the look on my face. Something’s wrong. I know it.
Savi…
I flip my cell phone open and answer Becky. My head goes light and I feel faint when I hear Grayson shouting in the background for someone to get out of the way. White noise fills my ears, but I hear bits and pieces of her words that feel like a hammer of doom and gloom pounding my heart.
“Sav…accident…hospital…”
I shove my chair back in panic and it clatters to the floor. Patrons stare at me in shock and the maître d’ fixes me with a hard stare, signaling to someone with a toss of his head. But I can hardly focus on the fact that I am about to be thrown out of this fancy schmancy place.
My best friend is in the hospital. Savi…
“Baby, what’s wrong?” Claire asks, a touch of nervousness to her Southern lilt. “You’re scarin’ me.”
Under normal circumstances, that sweet voice of hers would ease any worry in me, but today…tonight, I just want to hear my best friend’s voice. I need to know that she is okay.
“Savannah…” I breathe her name, phone still to my ear, coldness seeping into my bones.
This cannot be happening.
Moments later, Claire and I are on the road, heading to Florida. It’s a shitter of a long drive, but I would not have been able to live with myself if I didn’t see for myself if Savi’s okay or not.
Shortly after Becky called, Claire and I were thrown out as predicted. She had cussed the maître d’ out in spitfire Southern, calling him a horse’s ass and a brute hit with three ugly sticks. I would have kissed her silly for defending my honor if I had not been so sick to my stomach with dread.
Becky had stayed on the line long enough to tell me which hospital Savi was rushed to. She and Grayson had some time on us, but they were on their way to Florida as well. On the way to my car, I had explained to Claire the little I knew, and she’d jumped in the car, ready for the journey ahead, refusing to let me go through this alone.
I fucking love her.
We make it to Florida in record time, with a speeding ticket to show for it. I throw the car in park when we get to the hospital and hop out. I realize, belatedly, that Claire is still inside after engaging the lock button on the key fob. I know I should turn back, know I should wait up for her…
But I don’t.
Rushing through the automatic doors as they barely open, I enter the stark white hospital to a flurry of activity. I panic as I spin, trying to find a familiar face.
“Kyle!” my cousin’s voice cuts through the chaos and I turn to see him down the hall, along with Savannah’s parents, Becky and her three friends – Kelly, Monica, and Lisa – and Cam, with a lost look on his face.
I hate that guy…
My legs seem to speed toward them on their own accord. Becky throws herself into my arms, sobbing, while Grayson lays a hand on my shoulder…in pity? To reassure me?
What the fuck is going on?
I don’t realize I’ve asked the question aloud until Grayson answers, “She was in an accident, dude. She got thrown from the car.”
Ever felt like your world was spiraling out of control? Like there was no way to stop the spinning? The crash back down to earth, amongst the destruction and desolation is always the most painful feeling. One filled with despair and disorientation.
That is how I’m feeling right now.
A gust of breath leaves me weak and my knees buckle. Becky leads me to a bank of seats in what seems to be a waiting area. I sit, but sickness torments me.
“H-how did it happen?” I ask, standing up but wanting to sit.
Cam enters the room then, with Becky’s friends in tow and I wish he wasn’t here. He is the odd one out in all of this. Claire finally makes her appearance at that thought, standing toward the corner of the room next to Cam, and it isn’t lost on me how the same can be said of her.
She throws me a glare and guilt lodges itself in my throat. I had left her out there. I walk over to her, hugging her close. She is rigid in my embrace but softens when I drop an apologetic kiss to the top of her head. Savannah’s parents walk in, her mom looking like she is about to lose it and her father, ashen. Unease grips me and I let go of Claire, not even sure why. Like I was caught doing something I wasn’t supposed to.
Mr. Carpenter takes one look at Cam – I still can’t not say his name sarcastically – and his face hardens.
“What the fuck were you thinking, Cam?” he barks at Savi’s boyfriend. I have never heard Mr. Carpenter swear. Ever.
It’s then I notice the cuts and bruises on him and a cloud of rage engulfs me. I don’t know what happens in the two seconds after Mr. Carpenter asks that, but I feel someone haul me off of Cam. My focus is single-minded as I stare down Savannah’s piece of shit boyfriend, knowing that he had something to do with this.
The prick screams like a little bitch and, instead of defending himself, cove
rs his head. I’ll ask Savi what in the fuck she was thinking taking him for a boyfriend when she pulls through this. In the meantime…
“What the fuck happened, you piece of shit?” I spit at Cam.
“I didn’t see the van coming!” he shouts. “One minute we were laughing, the next minute the van’s clipping the front of the car. The car spun and flipped and threw her from the car. I wasn’t looking. I’m sorry!”
“Fuck!” I roar, ripping away from Grayson’s vice-like hold, my heart beating erratically. Shoving a hand through my hair, I pull on the roots, relishing the pain I feel.
Anything to distract me from the pain in my heart…in my soul.
“You better make goddamn sure that she’s okay, Cam,” I threaten and storm out, needing space, needing to breathe.
Becky and Grayson follow me, just in time to see me kick the wall outside of the waiting room.
“Calm down, man,” Grayson bids me and it makes me want to punch him in the face.
“We don’t know much, Kyle,” Becky tries to reassure me. “The first responders came on the scene quickly, we’re told.”
I snort derisively. Thank God for that. They did their fucking jobs. But it wasn’t supposed to happen in the first goddamn place!
“The doctor doesn’t have anything further to tell us just yet,” Becky goes on to reveal. “They’re doing their best. She hit her head pretty hard.”
Fuck…
I feel like I’ve been sucker punched. Sliding down the wall, I let the exhaustion capture me. Lethargy tugs at my very being, but I refuse to let it take me under. Not until I know she’s okay. She has to be…
Soon, Claire comes to join me on the floor, not talking to me at first. Eventually, she lays her head in my lap and falls asleep shortly afterwards, succumbing to the sleepless drive. Five cups of coffee and a helpless five-minute nap later, a doctor finally emerges. He has shaggy hair, a dark complexion and is of medium height. His name plate reads Dr. Ramkisoon.
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