by Emilia Finn
“Ben!” I’m an asshole, because I slam my fist into his stomach and force a grunt from his throat. “What the hell is your problem? What are you–” I frown when his hands remain over his eyes. “Ben! Don’t ignore me.” I grab his arms and pry them away from his face. “What the hell are you thinking? You could have lost everything!” I shoot an arm toward the phone cameras following my every move. “You might still lose it, you dumbass! All of that fucking work, and for what?”
“Did I hit you?” He ignores everything else I said and scours my face with his eyes. “Did I hurt you?”
“No!” I push away from him and try to stand, only to be pulled back down again. “Let me go!”
“I nearly hit you.” That fact hurts him more than if he’d walked up on me cheating on him. “I nearly…” His voice cracks. “Fuck, Evie. I nearly hit you.”
“You need to leave.” I push away and fight his hands when he tries to pull me back. I climb to my feet with a grunt, and stand over him with my hands on my hips. “Leave, Ben.”
“Come on, Curls.” Reid’s hands come to my shoulders and pull me back.
His action steals the devastation from Ben’s eyes, and replaces it with rage.
He flips to his feet with lightning fast moves, and squares up to start again. “Get off her!” Ben grabs my hand and tries to yank me closer. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“Both of you, stop!” I shove Ben away from me, and when Reid tries to grab on, I shove him too. “Both of you, stop touching me!”
“Evie,” Ben’s voice is a threat. “I don’t understand what your problem is, but this is not okay.”
“No, what’s not okay is you ignoring my requests to stay away. What’s not okay is you coming to my school and making a scene.” My voice cracks as I screech, “What’s not okay is you taking another fucking girl into the octagon when you’re supposed to be with me!”
“Another–” He stumbles back a single step. “What?”
“Don’t play stupid. It was on every news channel on repeat, and if you missed that, it’s now on YouTube. You went to the wrong girl, Ben. And I’m not going to compete for you. Leave.” I fold his hand back when he tries to reach out for me again. “I said leave!” I push his hand back so far that the tendons are at risk of snapping. “Leave!”
“You’re mad because of Nora?” His nose flares once more. “Are you seriously mad because there was a female in the octagon at the same time I was?”
“I’m mad because you turned me into a sniveling little bitch that was too scared to ask for answers. I didn’t want to rock any boats or cause a fight, so I shut my mouth when we both know that’s not me. I’m mad because you were supposed to be my boyfriend, but you’re back home with her, creating something shiny and new in my absence.” I shove Reid back when he tries to step closer. “I’m mad because I quit a fucking gym because of your insecurities, when we both know your reasoning is bullshit and not my problem. It’s a fucking gym, Ben! Grow the hell up.” I turn away and escape his grabbing hands. “Go away. This isn’t supposed to be this hard.”
“It is hard,” he snaps. “Everything we are is a war. It might not be easy, but it’s worthwhile.”
“I’m not so sure.” I sigh. “Go home, Ben, and don’t come back.”
I pass Reid and snatch up my bag. Pulling it onto my shoulder, I stand away from them both, and glare at the boy I’ve been in love with for longer than I remember.
“They say if it’s supposed to be, then it will be. If we’re supposed to work out, then you would have waited for me. I’ve been gone for less than a year, and you’ve already clawed your dependency into someone else. I was your coping mechanism, and now that I’m not there, you’ve jumped to Nora.”
“That’s not true!” he shouts. “You’re making that shit up.”
“No, I don’t think I am.” I turn to Reid. “Go away. Stay away. We’re not friends, and I’m not coming back to your gym. Find someone else to annoy.”
“His gym.” Ben’s eyes turn hotter by about a thousand degrees. “Your gym?” He charges forward, and stops only when I sprint between them. “This is on you! Your fucking gym!”
“No.” My muscles sing as I shove Ben back. “This is on us. On me and you. And I’m angry enough to lay the majority on you. You’re the one becoming best friends with another chick. You’re the one who’s being jealous because of a damn gym. You’re the one who breaks the promises we made.”
“I’m not her best friend! She’s a friend, Evie. Fuck.”
“Yeah, and that one time I said the guy at the gym was nice, you lost your ever-loving mind. I was trying to be cool about you and Nora. Because she didn’t have what I had. She had friendship, but I had all that history, and I had your attention.” I step back and push Reid with me. “Now I don’t. She’s your damsel, and you’re so fucking set on having one of those.”
“She needs me!” he roars. “She’s hurt and needs a friend.”
“And it just has to be you?” I continue to push Reid back. “It just has to be Ben Conner? There’s not one other man in that town that could be her friend?” I turn away and throw my hand back as though to send him away. “I’m the villain here, because she got hurt. There’s no way for me to come out on top when it comes to her.” I turn back and meet his fiery eyes. “You set me up for failure, and now, because I’m the idiot that insisted on kissing her best friend, we broke it all.”
“It’s not broken!” he surges forward. “I’m right here! I’m begging you to speak to me.”
“And I was begging you to love me and not her. You took her to a fight, Ben. To a fight! In what universe did you think that would be okay?”
“She… it…” he stammers. “It’s just a fight.”
I stop and draw a long breath through my nose. “And what we had was just a friendship. Go away, go be with her. She’s your perfect match; you want to be the hero, and she needs a knight.”
I stop in front of the first guy with a phone. He’s your typical college kid – longish hair, baggy clothes, laptop tucked under one arm, and giant headphones slung around his neck. “I’ll pay you five thousand dollars to give me that phone and never film me again.”
College students are notoriously broke, and when the dollar signs flick through his brain, I find myself in possession of a new phone and plans to head to the bank this afternoon. I do that twice more, spend fifteen thousand of my biological father’s horrible money, all for the sake of saving Ben’s career.
When I possess the phones that caught the fight that could end all of Ben’s fights, I thrust them into his hands, look into his eyes, and will the tears to stop burning mine. “I can’t do this. I can’t be half-in, half-out. I can’t be living here, but living back home at the same time. I can’t be in a relationship with you if you’re back there getting cozy with the one woman that you knew I’d have a problem with.”
“Evie…” His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “I’m not…”
“It doesn’t matter. If it was meant to be, it would have been easy. This,” I point between us, “is too hard. School makes me miserable, but worrying about us is so much worse. I can’t be the jealous girlfriend that pines over a boy who only half wants her.”
“I don’t half want you!” He grabs my hand and squeezes. “I want all of you. I only want you!”
“And yet, you hid a friendship with Nora, and took her to a fight that you knew I wanted to go to. The only thing you could have done that would have been worse than that is take her to the spring.”
Ben’s cheeks pale and break my heart. It literally feels like the cords, or vessels, or whatever the hell it is that keeps me alive, break away from my chest. It’s like an elastic that snaps, and brings my hand up to try to soothe the pain away.
This is what Mac must have felt that day his heart gave out.
“You already did,” I whisper. “You took her to the spring.”
“No! I didn–”
“Leave, Ben. This wasn’t
how– this isn’t–” I hate how my voice breaks. I drag a laborious breath into my lungs and will my tears to stop. I’m not a crier. I’m not petty. I’m not jealous. But he’s turned me into all of those things. “You hurt me. And now I have nothing left to give you.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Evie. This has been blown completely out of–”
“I want to enjoy my college experience without being tied down to the boy back home.” I step back. “It’s cliché, isn’t it? It’s far too cliché for us.” I step away and push Reid with me. He’s not ready to stand down, and I’m not leaving them here together. “Don’t call me, Ben.”
“All a big plan to be with him?” he snaps. This is what he does; when he’s floundering, he fires shots. “This is the guy we fought about, and now you have the perfect chance to be the victim in us, and turn to him for comfort? How many hours, Evie, before you declare your relationship?”
“None. Because I’m not the bad guy here. I’ve been away, doing my fucking best to survive, and you’re back there hedging your bets. Go to her, and when you’re down by the spring together, tell her I hope she likes my sloppy seconds.”
“Don’t be so fucking crude,” he growls. “She never did anything to you!”
“Says the guy whose relationship status will change far sooner than mine will. You deflect and make me the villain, but I know the truth. Fuck off, Ben. I don’t want you.”
“You don’t want me?” he grits out. “That’s it? You don’t want me?”
“Nope. And starting with you in the first place was my fault. I was being impulsive and stupid.” I meet his eyes and finish us. “I don’t want a guy who almost slams my face into the grass because he can’t control his temper.”
Ben’s eyes shutter and darken. I break him just as surely as he broke me, because that’s what we do. We take shots, one after the other, until one or both of us are broken.
“Like father, like son, huh?”
Nose flaring, fists flexing, chest growing, Ben stares into my eyes and bites off a million hurtful things I know he wants to say.
Instead, he simply bites out “As you wish,” turns on his heels, and stalks away to be with his other girlfriend.
“Curls.” Reid’s bloodied hand grabs onto mine and yanks me back. He tries to grab my jaw and draw me close. He tries to catch my eye and demand I cry on his shoulder.
He could be my hero the way Ben is for Nora. But that’s not me. I won’t bow down and let a man change me again.
“No.” I snatch my hand from his and turn away. “I asked you to go away, too. I’ve asked you a thousand fucking times. You need to learn to listen before you do real damage.”
I fix the straps on my bag and head into my dorm building with sobs trying their best to break free and humiliate me. Loud, howling cries choke off my air as I try to swallow them down. I race to my room and pray my roommate is out, and the whole way, all I can think about is how, two days ago, I was in a relationship with the boy who was growing into the man I wanted to keep forever.
But he’s been making alternative plans all along. He’s been sowing seeds with his damsel.
Ben is a caretaker, he’s a knight, and though his armor is a little dented and dirty, he knows his calling, and he refuses to deviate. His mom was in an abusive relationship, so it’s like he’s declared himself the fixer of all women.
My family built me up to never be broken, and my stubbornness and independence has always grated on him. How can he save me if I have my own armor and sword? How can he be my hero if I already know how to fight?
We both went into this thinking we could change the other. It might not have been a conscious thought, and I know neither of us wanted to hurt the other, but he wanted someone weaker, and I wanted someone that could accept me for being strong in my own right.
I push into my room and let my cry free when I find Clair’s bed empty. She’s out, so I dive into my bed and beg the universe to let me have the room to myself tonight.
Aiden
You Said I Could
“Biggie.”
Evie’s cries penetrate my sleeping brain first. Not the alarms sounding because our gates have been opened, and not the beep coming from my phone that someone has let themselves into our home.
We’ve been safe for so long that I’ve become complacent, because it’s not until a body climbs into my bed that I rouse from sleep and find my baby girl in my arms for the first time in such a long time.
“Biggie? You awake?”
“Smalls?” From deep sleep to wide awake, my eyes snap open in the dark and try to find our intruder. “What the…” I try to sit up. “What are you doing?”
“Baby?”
Tina’s voice in the dark is what undoes our little girl. She came searching for me, but her mother’s soft tone is what brings on the heart-wrenching sobs.
“What’s the matter?” Tina flicks on the lamp and washes the whole room in harsh light that makes us both squint. She grabs Evie’s face and gasps. “What the hell happened?”
“You promised,” Evie turns to me and hiccups. Her eyes are bright pink from crying, and her cheeks swollen from wiping them. “You promised that if I needed to come home, if there was one time that I absolutely had to come home, it would be okay.”
“What?” Tina’s eyes flicker between Evie’s. “What are you–”
“I did say that.” I lay down again and pull my girl into my little spoon. It’s what she wants. It’s what she came for. “I said you could come home.”
“Just one night,” Evie whimpers. “I just needed to come home for one night.”
“It’s okay.” Tina turns to her side and dims the light so it’s barely more than a shadow. Lying down again, she faces our daughter and strokes her nose. “What’s happened, baby? Do you feel this?” She takes Evie’s hand and places it on her chest. “You’re scaring me.”
Evie nods, switches their grips, and places Tina’s hand on her chest. “Same, Mommy. Same. I just need a hug. I don’t wanna talk about it.” She pulls in a hitching breath and buries her face against my pillow. “Don’t make me talk about it tonight.”
Evie
This Stinks
I haven’t slept in my mom and Biggie’s bed since… well, ever. Not even when I was a child. I’ve been independent my whole life, and it began when I was a toddler and had too much sass for my small body.
But last night, despite arriving around two in the morning and sleeping for only three hours, was the most restful sleep I’ve had since I enrolled in that stupid college.
I wasn’t made to be away from my family. It’s not a matter of being dependent or small-minded or any other annoying label people want to throw at a kid who doesn’t want to leave home, it’s just a matter of my soul being unable to thrive or survive when it’s not being fed the way it needs to be fed.
Family is what makes me happy. Family is how I breathe. And now that I’m back under the same roof as mine, the grief and pain come down to something more manageable than the suffocation I endured on the flight here.
One plane and one expensive-as-hell cab ride all the way to the estate gates, it wasn’t until I was laying between my parents that I was able to breathe again.
Ben is just five or so miles from here. He’s that close, but thinking of him makes it hard to breathe again, so I focus on the staircase I grew up sliding down, and breathe in the scent of coffee brewing in the air.
I’m home.
I reach the bottom of the stairs with my arms folded as a kind of defense. I’m not shy, and especially not in my own home, but I feel it today. I’m embarrassed, as I enter an empty kitchen but for my mom.
I expected Biggie to be here. I even expected my sisters to be running around and getting ready for school, but all I find is Mom working at the stove, flipping pancakes and weaving her way toward the fridge when she uses her mom-power and senses me in the room.
She smiles and gives a small shake of her hips. Her long hair touches t
he middle of her back as she bends and snatches a can of whipped cream from the door. Without warning, she pegs it across the room, and slams the fridge door shut as I catch the can before it hits the wall and trashes an old canvas print of my uncles.
The print is black and white, and includes the brothers all in their wedding best – but two out of the five have black eyes.
I roll the cold can in my hands and study the image that was taken when I was three. Uncle Jimmy’s wedding day – the day he beat on his brothers and busted some noses, because he was a new dad to Bean, and she didn’t like to sleep for more than three minutes at a time.
I was at that wedding by phone only. My mom and Biggie weren’t together yet, and she was working herself half to death trying to pay the bills. I didn’t want to miss out, so Biggie made the video call and showed me the whole ceremony from his position in the wedding party.
That was way back when life was easier; and mere months before I met Ben for the first time ever.
“Bring that over here, baby?” Mom’s voice is soft, melodic, the way it used to be when I was small.
I turn away from the picture, and though I know my eyes look bruised and puffy, I still make my way toward the counter where she’s set up two place settings.
Syrup. Butter. Plates and silverware.
I set the cream down in the center, and slide onto a stool just as Mom drops a pancake on my plate and finishes it with berries to make a smiley face. “When was the last time you had pancakes, baby?”
“Christmas.” My voice cracks, but I swallow it down and let my hair shield my face as I pick up my knife and reach out for the butter. “Since you last made them for me.”
She makes the tsk sound and flips a pancake to her plate. “You know what they say about addiction, honey. Quitting cold turkey is painful. You’re supposed to wean yourself off.” She rounds the counter and slides onto the stool beside mine so our thighs touch. She’s wearing jeans similar to mine, and a Rollin On tank, since that’s basically all anyone around here wears. Picking up her silverware, she rests her elbows on the counter and turns to me. “You just leave us and expect the pancakes not to call to you?”