Better (Too Good series) (21 page)

“Yeah, but some of that stuff hadn’t happened when Mr. Connelly started pursuing me,” Cadence argued.

“What did you just say?”

“Huh?”

“You said Mr. Connelly.”

Cadence’s eyes went wide. So did Avery’s. The girls stared at one another, silently communicating the gravity of Cadence’s slipup.

“Don’t go backwards,” Avery whispered.

“I’m afraid I already am,” Cadence whispered back. “And I’m scared. I mean nothing to him, Avery. I’m just this girl he can mold to be whatever he wants.”

“That’s not true.”

“It IS true. I’m nothing.”

“Cadence . . .”

“I have class,” Cadence said, checking the time on her cell phone.

“Screw class. You’re staying here. We’re talking about this,” Avery said, grabbing her hand. “He’s a fucking asshole right now, Cadence, but he loves you. He loves you very much. He wouldn’t be with you if he didn’t think you were special and important. He’s not that kind of guy.”

Cadence nodded. She felt she’d been doing a lot of that lately. Nodding. Silent agreement. She didn’t believe any of the words people were telling her lately, but she nodded to make them think she did.

She watched Av
ery’s lips move. It was as if Avery was force feeding her encouragement, but it tasted sour, and it made her want to vomit. But she kept nodding. She even crinkled her brow at one point to make it look like she was really listening. Absorbing and thinking. She let Avery talk at her all afternoon until she had to leave for work. It was instant relief leaving the table. It was relief when she climbed in her car and drove to Millie’s with the radio blaring. She wasn’t familiar with the song, but it served as a distraction. She’d take what she could get.

***

“You look kind of beat up,” Drew said. She stood in the doorway of Mark’s classroom, arms folded over her chest, head cocked in curiosity.

“Do I?” he replied, erasing his board.

“Yeah. Like you didn’t get much sleep last night. Everything okay?” She walked into the room and sat on one of the student tables.

“Just fine,” he replied.

She said nothing as she watched him pack his bag. He glanced at her and shrugged.

“Wanna try again?” she asked, tucking her hair behind her ear.

He thought for a moment. If he told her he had a fight with his girlfriend, she’d probably stop coming into his room after work to chat. Could work to his advantage. Although, she may pry further, and there was no way he was revealing the details of their argument. He’d have to lie instead, and he didn’t want to put the effort into it.

“I have a hard time sleeping at night,” he said.

“Do you take medicine?” she asked.

“I try not to. I’m not a medicine person,” he replied. He pulled his bag over his shoulder.

“You really like to get the hell out of here right after your last class, huh?” she asked.

He smiled and nodded.

“And where are you going in such a hurry?”

He almost said, “Home to my girlfriend,” but he knew Cadence wouldn’t be there. She was spending the night with Carrie.

“Home,” he said instead.

“Are you one of those homebodies?”
Drew asked.

“Sort of,” he replied.

“Well, then I really need to take you for a drink,” she said.

Mark shook his head. “I don’t drink,” he lied.

Drew narrowed her eyes. “Yes, you do.”

Just tell her you have a girlfriend!
his brain cried. But he couldn’t. She’d ask questions he wouldn’t want to answer.

“Is there a woman at home?”
Drew asked.

Mark sighed
. “Yes.”

“And are you fighting?”

His face shot up. Was it that obvious?

“That answers that question,”
Drew said. She looked him over. “Come on. I’ll buy you that drink, and you can tell me all about it.”

No. No no no.

“Completely platonic,” she added. She licked her lips.

Bullshit.

“I’m not one for sharing,” Mark said.

“I can tell,”
Drew replied, undeterred. “But you could use the advice of another female, couldn’t you? I’m great at giving advice.”

He swore he heard the translation: “I’m great at giving head.”

“It’s really okay,” Mark said. He walked with her out of the room.

“OMG! I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer! You look like shit. You’re fighting with your woman, and you have someone here who wants to help,”
Drew said.

You want to destroy me
, Mark thought.

“One drink, Mark. I mean, jeez. Get over yourself. You’re not
that
cute.”

He eyed her carefully. “One.”

***

Cadence
opened the apartment door slowly. She felt like she was sneaking in, and perhaps she was. She didn’t want Mark to see or hear her, though she knew it was impossible. Their apartment was no bigger than 800 square feet. Not too many places someone could go unnoticed. But he wasn’t home. That was strange. Mark was always home around this time.

She threw her bags on the couch and walked to the bathroom. She started the shower then jumped when she heard the
front door open. She stripped as fast as she could and climbed in the shower. Mark came in just as she closed the curtain.

“Where have you been all weekend
?” he asked. He tried desperately to control his temper.

“I just stayed with Carrie
. Didn’t you get my text?”

“What text?” he replied
.

There was no text. She lied about it. She wanted, needed, to stay away from the apartment for the weekend, and she didn’t want to tell him. She wanted to scare him. And it worked.

“Tell me where you are, Cadence!” he shouted unexpectedly. “I was worried sick!” He tore open the shower curtain and glared at her. “Do you have any idea where I was just now?”

She shook her head.

“I was driving all over town looking for you! Christ! I had no idea where you were! I called a million times! I even looked through your things hoping I’d find Carrie’s number!”

Cadence calmly rinsed the shampoo from her hair. There was no way in hell she was apologizing for worrying him. He deserved it.

“You shouldn’t go through my things,” she said. “Remember you got mad at me for going through yours?”

She stared right at him through wic
ked eyes. Not eyes full of hurt or sadness. They were eyes full of hate, and they betrayed her secret:
I’m gonna make your life a living hell
, they said.
And you’ll deserve every bit of it
.

He reared back
, stunned. And then he pulled the curtain. He couldn’t look at her for the fear it evoked in his heart. That wasn’t Cadence in the shower. That was another woman masquerading as Cadence. He remembered her confession to him a long time ago—how she turned into her bizarre alter ego during that argument with Gracie in the school parking lot. He thought her alter ego had returned. And she had one thing on her mind: vengeance. Didn’t he deserve it? After all, he kept a secret all these months. He deceived her. Didn’t he deserve her revenge?

She turned off the shower and pulled back the curtain. She jumped at the sight of him. She thought he’d gone to the living room, but he stood in the center of the bathroom, staring at her, contemplating something.

“Are you hungry?” he asked softly.

She nodded, wrapping the towel around her body.

“Would you like to order in?”

“Chinese?”

“Sounds good.” He watched her walk to the sink and grab her face lotion.

Going through the motions. Pretending. Even though just a minute ago
her eyes told him in no uncertain terms that she was out for blood. His blood. Well, his proverbial blood. Maybe if he just acted normally, she’d forgive him faster. Maybe she’d never forgive him.

They ate in silence. They watched TV in silence. They went to bed without wishing each other “good night.” No kiss. No cuddling. Mark’s fear grew exponentially the longer he lay awake in the silent darkness of their bedroom, listening to her measured breathing. He knew his
mind would take him back there to that day in the hospital. He was primed for it, anxiety permeating his entire body. He tried to fight the heavy sleep looming just above him, pressing ever so gently, encouraging him to close his eyes and drift away.

“Don’t be cruel,” he mumbled, sinking further into his pillow. And God wasn’t. There was no nightmare of that day in the ho
spital. There was only reprieve. And hope.

Elect
ric tingling. That’s what he felt. He burst through his apartment door and walked straight to the bedroom, gathering all the pictures of a girl gone to heaven, collecting the odds and ends that were distinctly hers and placing them on the bed in a large pile.

He stood over the bed and scanned the items: her old scarves. She loved to wear scarves with jeans and boots. Fall was her favorite season. The pictures. Her eyes stared at him, wondering what he was up to.
Questioning his motives. A small ceramic jewelry box she’d kept from childhood. She always said it was the ugliest thing, but the only present she ever received from her grandfather. So she kept it. And cherished it. Journals. He read them every day, listened for the sound of her voice as she described her wishes for a new job, her desire to own a home. A feeling. A regret. A funny anecdote. A prayer.

“I have to, Andy,” he said out loud. He waited for her response.

Only the stillness of a quiet afternoon.

“I saw her today. And something burst in my chest. I haven’t had a fee
ling like that since I realized I loved you,” he explained. “I never thought I’d feel like that again.”

He waited. She remained silent.

“She’s the littlest thing I’ve ever seen. So fragile.”

He moved
Andy’s things aside and sat on the bed.

“I don’t know how I’ll
ever find her. I don’t know if I’ll see her again. I know her name. That’s it. But I’m sure there’s more than one ‘Cadence Miller’ in the world.”

He picked up a scarf and wrapped it around his wrist as he talked.

“You like that name, huh?” he asked. “I do.” He paused. “Cadence. I like to say it. Cadence. She’s so small, Andy. I think if I grabbed her hand too hard, I’d break her fingers. I’ve never seen someone so little.”

Sure he had. He’d come across lots of little people, but none of them mattered to him, so he forgot them. He only saw her. She was all that mattered.

He stared at the blue flowers that speckled the fabric of the scarf.

“I want to love her,” he whispered. “I think I’m supposed to. But I don’t want to hurt you.”

He knew it made no sense. How could he hurt her? She was gone. She’d been gone for two years.

Two years.

He looked at the pile of Andy’s things on his bed.

“I can’t explain it, Andy. I looked up at her, and suddenly everything made sense. I had a purpose. Just like that. To love this girl.” He snorted. “I don’t even know that I’ll ever see her again!”

He picked through the pictures until he found his favorite. He had taken it in bed as he hovered over her, tickling her with one hand and taking snapshots with his phone with the other. She was laughing hysterically, and he captured a moment of pure bliss—her mouth thrown open, eyes shut tight, long hair draped over the pillow. Happiness.

“May I?” he asked. He wasn’t quite sure what his question meant until she answered him.

“Let go,” the voice whispered.

He jumped up and dropped the picture on the floor.
He scanned the room carefully.

“Andy?”

“Let go.” It was farther away now.

He walked to the corner of the room where he swore he heard it.

“Andy?!”

“Let go.” Just the faintest whisper floating out of the room through the open window.

He ran to it and threw up the sash.

“Andy!” he called
. But she was gone. And she had given him her blessing. Now, what to do with it?

He closed the window slowly, then
walked back to the bed. He thought of Cadence staring at him, trash stick poised in hand, a look of shock and awe on her face. Why the look? He was a regular guy. He thought he looked like a regular guy. But she gawked anyway and made him nervous.

He’d forgotten that feeling—instant explosi
ons in the heart, like tiny stars bursting in intervals, filling the space with warmth and light. God, he’d do anything to hold on to that feeling! But he needed Andy’s permission first.

And she gave it to him. So now he knew what to do. All the while he packed away Andy’s belongings, he thought ab
out Cadence. And the little stars burst all over again, warming his chest, lighting his heart.