Better (Too Good series) (26 page)

Carrie drew back and handed the lime wedge to Cadence.

“You try.”

Cadence stuck out her tongue and squeezed the last of the juice. It made her eyes water, and she
swallowed fast, squeezing her eyes shut and puckering her lips. Carrie laughed, then trapped Cadence’s face in her hands. This time, Cadence made the first move. She opened her eyes and leaned in. She kissed her friend passionately, drawing her lower lip into her mouth and sucking gently. She thrust her tongue in Carrie’s mouth and shared the lime juice. She ran her tongue over Carrie’s perfectly straight teeth, then explored the inside of her lips—that soft, wet flesh.

The girls put on quite the show, kissing and holding each other’s hands as men crowded the end of the bar to watch.
They clapped and cheered, encouraging the girls to continue their make-out session, maybe take it a little further. One young man suggested they touch each other’s breasts, and Cadence laughed.

“Get lost,” she said. “This isn’t about you.”

Carrie nodded in agreement.

They continued drinking into the early hours of the morning, gossiping and sharing stories and mingling their conversation with fruity kisses. It didn’t feel like cheating at all, Cadence realized, perhaps because
she was kissing another girl. That made it different. Maybe not okay, but different. She didn’t want to think about if it was okay, though. She wanted to immerse herself in this alternate universe where everything was softer, more lyrical. Feminine tenderness, and she wanted to keep touching and tasting it.

They stumbled out of the club and into a cab around 4 A.M. The last thing Cadence remembered was their elevator ride back to Carrie’s room. E
verything after that was blank.

***

Avery banged on the door.

Cadence ripped it open and screamed, “Stop harassing me!”

Avery pushed her aside and walked in. “Then answer me when I text you. When I call you.”

“I don’t wanna talk to you right now,” Cadence said. “Leave.”

“No.”

“Fucking leave!”

“No.” Avery tossed her purse on the club chair and sank down into the couch.

“What do you want from me?” Cadence demanded.

“My friend. I want my friend back.”

Cadence averted her eyes.

“Mark and I don’t talk about you behind your back, Cadence. I texted him a few times to tell him where you were. He’s worried about you. Don’t you think you’ve punished him enough?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“I know it’s not. I’m just trying to be a good friend to you. I see you hurting, and I wanna help.”

“I don’t need your help.”

Avery rubbed her face. “Why are you so angry with me? What have I done?”

How could Cadence
tell her? That she was jealous and angry of Avery’s life. That Avery was growing up and she was growing down. That she felt Avery had the better version of what was supposed to be her life.

Avery, because she was intuitive, already knew.

“I don’t even like instrumental hip hop,” she said after a moment. “I think it blows. I just humor Dylan because it makes him happy. That’s all that is.”

Cadence said nothing.

“I’m not trying to compete with you or have your life. I wasn’t expecting to fall in love with Dylan. I wasn’t expecting him to fall in love with me. We’re not trying to copy you and Mark.”

Silence.

“Mark has a nice friend. He acts immature sometimes, but he’s actually really smart and insightful. I like being with him. He treats me like a lady. He wants to take care of me.”

Cadence walked to the kitchen for a glass of water.

“Older men are where it’s at,” Avery continued. “They have their shit together. They’re in control. They wanna settle down. It’s attractive. I see why you fell for Mark.”

Cadence emerged from the kitchen and eyed her friend suspiciously.

“Okay, yes. I wished for a while that I had something like what you have with Mark. I was a tad bit jealous because I saw how happy you were. How safe you felt. And when you would tell me about the little things he’d do for you to show you he cared, it made me feel lonely. I wanted something like that. I realized Gavin wasn’t it. Didn’t make a difference that he was older. Older doesn’t necessarily mean better. So I’m not really sure why I said older men are where it’s at.”

Cadence sat down on the club chair and drank her water. She didn’t even think
about offering Avery a drink.

“At first, I just wanted to get laid. But Dylan wouldn’t sleep with me. He said he liked me—that he wanted to do things right. I didn’t understand what that meant until he showed me. I think Mark discouraged it at first until he saw that Dylan was serious. You wouldn’t know any of this because you’ve been absent.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“What’s embarrassing?” Avery asked.

“Our story is one thing, but come on. You two are just making it look absurd and silly. Go date a guy your own age,” Cadence said.

“You’re not,” Avery pointed out.

“My story isn’t your story,” Cadence argued.

“I know that. I’m not trying to live your story, Cadence. I’m trying to show you that I’m happy. Dylan’s happy. Why can’t you be happy for us?”

Why couldn’t she? She struggled with it for the past several weeks—the inability to be happy for a friend she cared so much for. Why? It was silly not to feel glad that Avery found a nice guy. She could only chalk it up to her anger at Mark. She was directing it at everyone. Well, except Carrie.

Carrie.

She’d managed to forget about the kiss until now. What the hell was that anyway? She wasn’t attracted to girls, but she couldn’t deny her attraction to that kiss. Maybe it was just the liquor.

“Are you listening to me?” Avery asked.

Cadence looked at the stranger sitting on her couch.

“Yes. I’m listening.”

Avery sighed. “Whatever. I came over here to try to make things right. I came here to try and understand why you’ve been so mean to me.”

Cadence blinked.

“Seriously? That’s your response? A fucking blink?”

“I don’t
know what you want me to say! I can’t be around you right now. I can’t deal with your happiness.”

Avery looked shocked. “Who the hell are you?”

“I don’t know. Just an angry individual, I guess,” Cadence replied.

Her heart ached instantly, and she wanted to tell Avery she was sorry, but she couldn’t. Or rather, she wouldn’t. Not when her heart conjured those feelings of abandonment during her last weeks of high school. Avery wasn’t there for her. Avery had d
isappeared. Avery ignored her and threw insults at her when she couldn’t ignore her.

But she apologized
, her brain said.

So what? I can’t forget that! Why does she expect me to be nice to her when she’s basically throwing her happiness in my face?
Cadence shot back.

Nobody’s throwing any happiness in your face. She’s trying to share her life with you. That’s what friends do.

Fuck that! She’s trying to
have
my life!
Cadence thought. She looked at Avery who sat studying her face. She knew it was contorted with rage, and she thought the wisest thing Avery could do was leave before she said something unforgiveable.

“You should leave,” Cadence said quietly.

Avery stood and gathered her purse. She walked to the door and paused.

“I love you,” she said. Her voice quavered, and Cadence knew she was about to cry. “I wish you’d come back.”

Cadence listened as the door closed, leaving her isolated in the tiny living room—a space that held many wonderful memories that she couldn’t summon. Not one. They retreated when the knowledge set in of Mark’s past and her inconsequence. He could spend the rest of his life telling her he didn’t mean it, but she had already convinced herself of her unimportance. And suddenly she realized why she was sabotaging all of her relationships: She had tricked her brain into believing she brought nothing to them. That her life had no purpose. That she was meaningless. Just a silly girl to bend and break. She couldn’t see that it was no one but herself doing the breaking.

***

Cadence helped Fanny out of the car. She linked their arms and started down the park trail, taking in the view of an early spring. Buds dotted the dogwood trees, and verdant green colored the space on either side of them.

“You know, this is my favorite season,” Fanny said.

“Why’s that?”

“Because everything starts ove
r. Rebirth. Renewal. New beginnings.”

Cadence nodded.

“It’s a chance to make things right,” she went on.

“I know what you’re getting at,” Cadence replied.

“I know you do.”

They strolled down the pathway, saying hello to
other visitors as they passed.

“I’ve adopted you as my granddaughter,” Fanny said.

“You have?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” she replied. “I thought I told you that.”

Cadence shook her head.

“So because you’re my granddaughter, I can be blunt with you.”

“Uh oh.” Cadence braced herself.

“You’ve let anger and bitterness twist your heart, Cadence. It’s made you an ugly person. You’ve gone so far backwards that I fear I’ll have to teach you how to walk again.”

Cadence hung her head.

“I tell you this because I love you very much. I care for you. I don’t want to see you in pain. It hurts me to see you like that. It hurts me more to wa
tch you try to cover it up with bad decisions.”

“How do you—”

“Doesn’t matter how I know. And no one is talking about you, so relax. I feel it in your bones.” Fanny stroked her arm. “Relax.”

Cadence took a deep breath.

“Mark was wrong to keep his past from you. He should have been honest from the beginning. He should have allowed you the chance to understand him. He was selfish to only give you one part. He knows that.”

Cadence said nothing.

“But you must let go of your feelings of betrayal. They’re like a cancer, spreading throughout your body, taking over all the goodness. If you don’t fight it, you’ll die in that darkness. You’ll destroy all the goodness in your life.”

“I can’t let it go,” Cadence whispered.

“Because you’re not asking for help,” Fanny replied.

“Whose help? I don’t want Mark’s help. Avery’s help. I love you, Fanny, but I don’t even want your help.”

Fanny chuckled. “Honey, none of us could help you if we tried.”

Cadence looked at her confused.

“What? Like a therapist? I should go to therapy?”

“I don’t think a therapist could help you either.”

Realization spread over Cadence’s face, lighting it up for a half-second before a scowl clouded the brightness.

“I don’t wanna talk to God,” she mumbled.

“Why’s that?”

“Because I think he’s indifferent.”

“Do you really think that? Because I suspect that when you lie in bed at night crying and feeling awful for the way you’re treating the people you love, that’s God speaking to you. That’s God being very involved in your life, your heart.”

Cadence shrugged.

“You have a hope that you refuse to cling to when it’s right there for you, waiting for you to reach out to it. Why are you refusing it?”

“Because I hurt.”

“Do you not think he knows that? Do you not think he feels what you feel?”

“I don’t know.” Cadence wanted to cry. She’d wanted to cry fo
r weeks now, but the anger squelched her tears. She was a walking zombie, void of anything human.

“You won’t find a greater love to heal your pain, honey. You know that. I understand you’ve gotta go through this—feel what you’re feeling. But don’t let it destroy you. Search for the forgiveness because it’s still inside of you.”

“Avery said that I’m mostly upset about Mark having a wife, not that he kept it from me. She said it’s because I realize if she’d never died, I wouldn’t be with him.”

Fanny squeezed her arm. “Well, how do you feel about that?”

“I think she’s right, and I hate her for it,” Cadence said softly.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Cadence,” Fanny warned. “The ‘what if’ game. That’ll get you nowhere.”

“I know.”

“His circumstances were by design. So were yours. You were destined to be together. That’
s what I believe. So there’s no room there for ‘what if’? Shouldn’t even be a fleeting thought.”

“He’s still in love with her!”

“In love? There’s a big difference between being in love with someone and loving her.”

“And what’s the difference?” Cadence asked. They found an empty park bench and took a seat.