Betrayed (14 page)

“Mom, you don’t have to shout, the phone can hear you,” I grumbled.

“Merry Christmas to you, too, dear. Sounds like someone is just waking up,” she said.

“It was a long night,” I said. A dull throb decided to join the piercing pain in my head.

“Is she up?” my father asked in the background. My mother told him to keep his eyes on the road.

“Where are you guys?” I asked.

“Rise and shine,” she said, instead of answering. “We’ll be there soon.”

I shot bolt upright, pain and dizziness blurred my vision again.

“
What?
” I screeched.

“We’re surprising you for Christmas,” she exclaimed. “Surprise!”

My head pounded and slammed as she yelled into the phone again. My heart beat furiously as I began to realize what she said.

Shit. Fuck. Dammit.

“Honey, are you still there?” she asked. “Sweetie, we need directions to the apartment.”

I groaned and tried to ask where they were. My mother floundered about,
 
until my father finally wrestled the phone away from her.

“Hi, Cupcake,” he said. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything; Mom swore me to secrecy.”

I groaned as I tried to force myself out of bed.

“We’re at Stone and Speedway. I think we’re close to campus.”

I groaned, again. They were only a couple blocks from campus, but luckily Dana’s apartment was still another ten minutes away. I gave him directions to the apartment from campus and he said they would be there in a jiffy. I didn’t know how long a jiffy was, but I was certain it wasn’t long enough for me to tidy the apartment and clean myself up.

“See you soon,” he said. I clicked the phone off without answering.

I leapt into action, sparing only a minute to grab a few ibuprofen and wash them down with a full glass of water.

I started in the living room, gathering the bottle of wine, the wine glass, and all other remnants of my night of self-pity. The wine glass received a quick wash before I stashed it in the cupboard, and the bottle ended up on the top of the near-full trash. I made a mental note to take it to the dumpster right after washing up a bit; I didn’t think I could bare the judgement in my mother’s eye if she were to find the empty bottle.

I gave one more look over the living room.
Good enough
, I supposed. I raced to the bathroom. My hair was a disheveled mess, but I didn’t have time for a shower. I ran a brush threw it quickly, yanking free all of the tangles. I plunged my toothbrush into my mouth and began scrubbing furiously. It was the least I could do to begin to make myself presentable. As I washed my mouth out, I heard a scuffling outside the front door. A loud knock echoed through the apartment.

That was fast,
I thought to myself.

I gave myself a once-over in the mirror, and rushed to the door.

My jaw dropped wide when I threw it open and saw what was waiting for me on the other side.

* * * * *

“Ethan?” I said. My thoughts went reeling as I saw him standing “in my doorway.

Merry Christmas,” he said, a big grin on his face.

He wore a brown leather jacket over a white, untucked button-up shirt. Dark, designer jeans snugged tightly in all the right places, and stretched down over his brown loafers. He held a small, wrapped box in one hand, and a tiny bouquet of flowers in the other.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, stunned. I was suddenly aware of how awful I probably looked standing there. Having my parents see me in that state was one thing - Ethan was an entirely different matter.

He grinned, awkwardly. “I didn’t think it was right for you to be alone on Christmas, and I knew you would never come over, so I decided to come to you.”

My heart went through a familiar pitter-patter, but my nerves and anger overpowered it.

“You can’t just barge in on me like this,” I said. “We had an arrangement.”

“Well, I thought we could overlook it just this once. After all, it’s Christmas.”

“We can’t just ignore the rules whenever we feel like it. That’s what got us into this whole mess in the first place.” My eyes fell over the flowers and the gift. “Is that for me?” I asked.

He nodded and held it out to me. The flowers were beautiful. I looked around him at the stairs leading out into the parking lot. The coast was still clear. I reached out and took them from him.

“Well, it’s very sweet of you,” I said, feeling the weight of the box. It was incredibly light; perhaps even empty, but something jostled around inside. “I didn’t get you anything,” I frowned.

“It’s nothing, just a little thing I thought you’d like.”

I smiled at him. “It’s very sweet of you.” Our eyes met and lingered on one another for a moment. For a second, I forgot where I was. I forgot that I was looking like an unkempt slob, and that Ethan was the most inappropriate person to be standing in my doorway at that moment. For that tiny second in time, I let myself be happy. I let myself think about all the things that might have been between us. I let myself remember all of the happy times we’d had, even though we weren’t together for all that long. I desperately wished I could forget everything that happened since then, and go back to the simpler times. Times when I couldn’t stop smiling if I tried.

The moment didn’t last, though.

It was shattered when I heard the scrape and scuffle of people coming up the staircase.

“Shit,” I said quickly. I repeated it a second time. “You have to go, now.”

“What?” he asked, sounding confused.

But it was too late. The sound of my mother’s voice carried over us.

“Yes, I’m sure this is the right one. The sign said this was building thirteen just like Kayla said.” My father huffed and guffawed somewhere behind her. Both were closing in, and there was no way to avoid them seeing Ethan.

I panicked, but managed to keep myself composed.

“It’s not a good time,” I said. “You
really
need to go.”

As soon as the words escaped my mouth, the shape of my mother climbed the final step behind Ethan. “Kayla,” she exclaimed. “Merry Christmas!”

She brushed past Ethan without even noticing him, and threw her arms around me. “See, Harvey, I told you it was the right building. Kayla, you’ve lost weight - have you been eating?”

“Mom,” I said, sharply, already embarrassed. My eyes darted between her and Ethan nervously. “You made it here fast.” I tried to put a big smile on my face.

She turned and noticed Ethan for the first time. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, but her face didn’t lose its warmth.

“Who’s your friend, dear?” she asked.

“Ethan Dewey,” he said, quickly. He thrusted his hand out to her.

“Oh come now, Ethan. Any friend of my daughter’s gets a hug.”

Without warning, she threw her arms around him and pulled him in tight. My father shouldered past the both of them with a sideways glance. He was carrying a huge ice cooler and struggled with its weight. Piled on top of the cooler was a single wrapped present.

“Margaret, you’re going to scare the poor man,” he mumbled. “Hi, Cupcake.” He tried to lean forward and give me a kiss on the cheek, but the weight of the stuff he was carrying threatened to force him off-balance.

“Let me help you with that, sir,” Ethan said from over my mom. He grabbed the cooler from my Dad, who didn’t argue the courtesy, and pushed past me without so much as a glance. My lips worked soundlessly, still shocked by everything happening so quickly.

“Nice young man,” my father grunted, his eyes wide. “Now, come here,” he said to me. He pulled me in tight. Wrapped in his comfort, I was taken back to my child hood when everything was simpler. Relief flooded through me. My emotions boiled up quickly. I wanted him to take me away like he used too. I wanted him to make all of my troubles disappear, but I knew he couldn’t. Not like he used to.

After a long while we pulled apart, and I wiped at a single tear that had dared to escape. It didn’t go unnoticed by my father, and his eyes squinted at me for a second; I was thankful when he didn’t press the issue, but I knew I’d hear about it later.

My mother gave me a quick peck on the cheek as she followed Ethan into the apartment.

“This place is absolutely gorgeous,” she announced. “Ethan, will you be joining us for Christmas dinner?” she asked.

My eyes widened in horror. “He was just leaving,” I said.

He gave her a huge nod. “I would
love
to.”

“Splendid,” she announced, ignoring my protests completely. She led him into the kitchen and began unpacking the contents of the cooler.

I watched as everything unfolded before my eyes. It was like a nightmare that I couldn’t wake up from - the man I was trying my hardest not to fall in love with had just met my parents, and was already hitting it off with them. My dad grinned at me wolfishly, as though he could read my mind, and, somehow, found it amusing.

With a grunt he plopped himself down on the couch and grabbed the television remote. I hurried to the kitchen, not sure if I was trying to save Ethan from my mother, or the other way around. She ripped open packages from within the cooler. Odd assortments of cooking necessities that she had packed away for dinner, and she barked orders at Ethan as to where they should go.

“Mom, this really isn’t necessary,” I said. I reached in and tried to lend a helping hand, hoping Ethan would take the hint; but they both ignored me.

“So how do you two know each other?” Mother asked.

“Um,” I said, hesitating too long.

“From school,” Ethan said, cheerily. “Kayla was my student this past semester - one of my best, actually.”

I cringed and hoped neither of them would notice my burning cheeks. My mother frowned.

“Your student? Well you don’t look old enough to be teaching at the college.”

He grinned at her. “I’m older than I look.”

“So what are you doing here on Christmas? Where’s
your
family?”

“Mother, don’t be rude,” I said, suddenly embarrassed on her behalf.

“It’s just an honest question,” she said innocently.

I winced as I was reminded why it was difficult to take my mother into social situations. She didn’t have the best internal filter; rather, she said what she thought, no matter the audience.

Before I knew it, my mother scooped up the trash and wrappers from all of the food she was handing Ethan, and popped open the trash can at the end of the counter to deposit them. She came to a quick halt when she saw that it was full, and her eyes locked on the wine bottle, still sitting on the top.

“Kayla, what’s this?” she asked, still holding the pile of trash in her arms.

I scowled at myself in horror. When Ethan had surprised me, I had completely forgotten to take the trash out. It’s not that my mother was against alcohol - it’s just that she felt there was a time and place with it; and those times and places were limited to Sunday Mass.

“Let me take the trash out for you,” I said, quickly. I reached over and pulled the trash bag free, cinching it shut as soon as it hit the ground. The bottle rolled around inside and clinked against something else, and I cringed again. “Ethan, would you mind helping me?” It came out harsher than I had intended, but the message was received.

“Oh, of course.” He grinned quickly at my mother before accompanying me out to the dumpster. I walked in heated silence, my steps quickening as my annoyance grew.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” I said. He struggled to keep up with my pace.

“Your mother is sweet, I didn’t want to be rude and turn her down.” I could almost feel the self-assured grin that spread across his face. He knew he was pressing my buttons, and he didn’t care that it was putting me in an awfully uncomfortable position.

“I don’t see how spending Christmas with me and my family is in
any
way keeping our relationship strictly professional.” I pulled up short as we reached the dumpster, turning sharply to face him. Ethan almost walked straight into me. “What are you up to?”

He looked at me, sheepishly, his eyes full of doubt. His tone turned serious.

“I’m crazy about you, Kayla. And I hate that I have to hide it. I want to scream it at the top of my lungs in hopes that you might hear me.”

My stomach twirled in knots, and I winced. My hands trembled, and I had to settle myself before I dropped the trash bag in the middle of the parking lot.

Doubt washed through me. I felt the same way he did; and I hated myself for it. Ethan was off limits in so many ways, and admitting to myself that there was a possibility between us was the same as confessing defeat.

“We’ve been over this,” I said. “We can’t be together - it’s just not a possibility.”

“Why?” he asked, simply. His face was strong and determined.

I began to say something, but nothing came out. I paused and thought about it, and found myself struggling with my own reasons for the distance between us.

“We just… can’t. You hurt me. Bad.” A knot began to form in my throat, and it stung to swallow. “I just can’t take another chance with you; I don’t think I’d survive it.”

He looked at me long and hard, his eyes pained and fighting a struggle of their own. His determination wavered as we stood there looking at each other, but he renewed it with a strength he pulled from somewhere.

“I’m sorry about what happened. I was wrong. I knew I should have told you everything that had happened before we were together, but I waited too long.” He stood looking at me for a while before continuing. “The way I feel about you is different; it’s stronger than I’ve ever felt about anyone ever before.”

I turned away from him and threw the trash into the dumpster. I wanted so desperately to give in to him; to tell him that I felt the exact same way. But, I just couldn’t do it. I cringed as I thought about Dana. I couldn’t betray my friend like that - not again.

But, had I betrayed her at all in the first place? It’s not like I knew she had dated him. It had been her idea that I go talk to him in office hours in the first place. Besides, was I more upset that he had been with Dana, or that he hadn’t told me about it? She’d already moved on - as witnessed by the number of other men she’d been with since him; so what was the harm in giving in to my own desires?