Change of Heart (19 page)

“You’re overreacting, Case. I’ll be out in a second.”

I sigh, my heart racing in my chest. If he sees…he can’t. He just can’t. I take a few steps back until the back of my legs hit my bed, then I lower myself down. I can’t take my eyes off the bathroom door. My ears are tuned in to every sound behind it.

Finally, the water cuts off and I hear the screech of the shower curtain moving along the rod.
Hurry up, Decker!
I hear quiet sounds that are probably him drying himself off with the towel. My knee bounces.

“Case?” he calls out.

“Yes?” I croak.

“Do you have any q-tips?”

My heart stops.

“No!” I shout, just as I hear the click of the medicine cabinet opening. I jump up and run for the door, knowing damn well it is still locked, but hoping, just hoping, he grants me some kind of mercy and has already unlocked it.

Still locked.

Shit.

It’s silent—dead silent—on the other side of the door. I lean my head on the wood and exhale. I know he’s seen what’s inside. He wouldn’t be so damn quiet otherwise.

Finally…finally I hear him disengage the lock. I take a step back and look up when he opens it. My heart breaks at the stricken look on his face. As much as I want to let my eyes roam down his beautifully toned body, with water droplets running right down his muscular chest and stomach and disappearing into the towel wrapped around his waist, I don’t. I keep my eyes in line with his.

“Case, what’s going on?” he asks, his voice barely a whisper, but skeptical. He’s scared or nervous—maybe both. Confused, too. Definitely confused.

I will myself not to cry. I’d never wanted Decker to see this side of me. I’d never wanted him to know about any of it. I didn’t want him to worry or be sad. I didn’t want to break his heart the way the news broke mine.

I steel myself, doing what I do best. Keeping people out. Pushing people away. My parents. Decker. I’d do it to Kate, too, if I didn’t live with her.

I turn off my emotions. Shut myself down. I’m a pro at this. One would have to be to live with the hand I’ve been dealt, otherwise you’d spend your days and nights in tears…feeling sorry for yourself.

With my armor on, I tell him “It’s nothing. You should probably just go, Decker.”

“Bullshit it’s nothing!” he shouts. Pointing back to the bathroom he says, “You have more medicine bottles in that cabinet than a goddamn pharmacy, and you’re going to tell me it’s nothing?”

Like the coward that I am I turn away from him. I’ve never had to put this armor on for Decker before. It’s not as easy with him. “Leave.” My voice is flat, firm, though there was a slight crack I pray he didn’t notice.

“Casey–”

“Just go!”
Don’t go.
I don’t want him to go, not really. But he needs to. I can’t do this with him. I can’t do this
to
him. He needs to leave before things get worse.

“No!” He grabs my shoulder and spins me around. He places a hand on each shoulder, holding me in place, and looks me straight in the eyes. “I am not leaving. You are not pushing me away. What the fuck is going on? What is all that? You’re sick? Is this why haven’t come home? Talk to me, Casey, because I’m freaking the fuck out right now!”

His eyes are wild, crazy. They’re their brightest green and glassy, like he may break down and cry at any moment. I feel the pressure in the back of my eyes from my own tears wanting to break free. The lump rises in my throat. I could just open my mouth, and in a few words explain all this away. I could do that.

But I’m a coward.

A big, fat, stupid coward.

“Decker, you need to leave. Now!” I step back and break his hold on me, then lift my hands and push against his chest so he stumbles out of my bedroom doorway and into the hall. “Go!”

“Casey?” he pleads, and his voice cracks. “Please don’t do this. Talk to me, baby. Please?”

“I’m not your baby,” I tell him, never breaking eye contact…breaking his heart instead. It’s the only way he’ll leave. It’s the only way I won’t completely break his soul later on.

“Where the hell am I supposed to go?” A few tears have managed to escape his eyes, and I follow their trail down his cheeks. The cheeks that, not long ago, were freshly flushed from our night of passion.

“Home,” I say flatly and then shut my bedroom door. Locking Decker out. Out of my life, but never out of my heart. He’d engrained himself in there so deeply fifteen years ago that he’s never coming out.

“Casey!” he bangs on the door. “You’re supposed to be going home with me. We can talk about this. Please. Please!”

I curl up on my bed and hug my pillow to my chest. It smells like Decker. I lift it up to my face to stifle the sound of the first sob. Decker is still banging on the door and yelling, so he probably wouldn’t be able to hear me anyway, but I don’t take any chances. I completely give in to the sadness, the devastation of losing my best friend again, and cry.

I cry for Decker because I’m not sure he’ll ever forgive me for this. Especially now.

I cry for my mom and dad because they’re the best parents a girl could ever have and I miss my dad so damn much.

I cry for Kate for having to put up with my sorry ass.

I cry for me because, let’s face it, my life sucks.

And I cry for my broken heart…because if it had never broken in the first place, things might have been so much different.

I cry until I can no longer hear Decker at my door.

…until the sun goes down.

…until everything fades to black.

Chapter Thirty

Decker

I aimlessly walk around the apartment complex for a while, then head down the street to a little diner Casey and I went to for lunch one day. I have absolutely no idea what had just happened. No idea. Things were fine. They were great. She was opening up. At least I’d thought she was.

Then the pills. God…there’d been so many of them. With names I couldn’t even pronounce, let alone remember. Is she sick? She’s got to be with that many little orange bottles. But with what? How can she keep it from me?

I think back over the days we’d spent together both here and back home, and I can’t recall any different or careful behaviors that would suggest she wasn’t well. She’d gone fishing, she drank alcohol, she ate a little bit of everything and she ate it a lot. Yeah, she’d looked pretty sickly when she first showed up, but I hadn’t really given it a second thought once I’d realized her father died, and she’d just driven cross-country on very little sleep.

I want to call my mom. I want to call Casey’s mom. Surely they know what is going on—and don’t even get me started on how pissed I am that they’ve hidden it from me. But I left my damn cell phone in the apartment. So that confrontation will have to wait.

I’m not leaving California without Casey. Not a damn chance. Especially now that I know something’s wrong with her. I’ll give her space…for now…but I’m not leaving her. When she came home a few short weeks ago, I said I wasn’t letting her go again and I meant it. Whatever this shit is, she’ll get through it with me right by her side. The way it was always supposed to be.

The bell rings as I enter the diner. I slide into one of the retro style booths and ask the waitress for a coffee. It’s pretty dead, so I hope she won’t mind if I just hang out here for a while. I need to give Casey her space, and I need to think.

She’d passed out that day when she’d had her blood drawn. Does that have something to do with this? Whatever
this
is? Did her being sick cause her pass out? Or is that why she’d had to have blood drawn? I can’t believe she’s been hiding this. Easy enough when she’s across the country playing the avoidance game, but I’ve been right here. Right here!

I can’t believe my parents didn’t tell me. They had to have known she was sick all along. They’re best friends with Casey’s parents. There is no way Casey’s parents wouldn’t have told them. Why wouldn’t they have told me? Why keep something like this from me? All of them…Casey included. I get she was upset with me when she left Charleston, but her health is bigger than that. At least it is to me.

I thank the waitress when she sets the mug in front of me, along with a bowl of cream and sugar packets. I should have told her I drink it black. I take a sip, and the hot liquid burns my insides, but it still doesn’t suppress the pain I feel from being lied to and pushed aside, yet again, by the one girl I’d give my life for. The girl who owns my heart and soul. The girl who always has. Since she was six years old.

I was standing at the window in the front of our new house, looking out at the girl in the white dress with the brown hair.

“Momma, is that an angel?” I asked my mom with awe as she walked into the living room carrying another box.

My mom laughed at me. “That’s just the little girl who lives across the street.”

I kept watching her in amazement. She was smiling and dancing around. She seemed so happy all by herself in her imaginary world.

My mom knelt down beside me. “Why don’t you go say ‘hi’ to her? Make a new friend,” she said, nudging me towards the door.

I looked at her like she was crazy. “But she’s a girl.”

She laughed at me again. “Boys and girls can be friends, Decker.”

I look back out at the girl in the white dress. I did want to be her friend. I wanted to be her best friend.

I’m brought back to the present by the waitress asking if I want a refill. I nod and thank her. Only an hour has passed. In my experience with Casey, she needs at least three to cool down. I grab a magazine off a neighboring table and flip through the pages to pass the time.

***

Two hours later, I’m sitting on the ground outside the apartment door, my forearms resting on top of my knees. I knocked, but there was no answer. Casey’s car is in the parking lot, but not Kate’s. I have a key, but if Casey is in there and doesn’t want to see me, I don’t want to violate her privacy by barging in. I’m hoping one of them eventually turns up and puts me out of my misery.

I’m sort of hoping that it’s Kate because I have a feeling she’ll cave and tell me what’s going on with Case. One thing I’ve realized about the new Casey is that when she builds walls, they’re damn near impenetrable.

I lay my head back against the siding, thinking back to the good times Casey and I had shared growing up.

“Decker, that was amazing!” Casey called out, running up to me as I walked out of the dugout.

“Thanks,” I said. My team won, but I was pretty bummed that I got struck out in the last inning.

“It was so cool seeing you out there throwing the ball! Just like the guys on TV.” It was my first Little League game, and Casey’s first baseball game ever. Her enthusiasm was pretty contagious, and I found myself smiling along with her.

“It was pretty cool,” I admitted.

“So cool,” she smiled. “I’m gonna come to every single one of your games. I told my dad I wanted to, and he said it was okay.”

I grinned at her. “You’re gonna come to every single one of my games?”

“Of course! You’re my best friend. I wouldn’t miss ‘em for the world!”

And she hadn’t missed a single game. She’d been there through Little League, middle school, junior high, and high school. Casey had gone to every game with my parents, home or away. Day or night, rain or shine.

Casey had always been there for me, and I’d like to say I’d always been there for her, but I’m not sure of anything anymore. The things she’d told me about my friends—how they’d been cruel to her and I’d never known it—it makes me angry, and it makes me wonder how good a friend I’d really been. She was always my best friend, but was I always hers?
 

Chapter Thirty-One

Casey

“Oh, that feels so good, Case,” he groaned as I ground my lower body against his.

“Mmm,” I moaned in agreement, leaving open-mouthed kisses on his neck. I could have gotten off just like this, but I wanted more. No, I needed more.

“Damn, baby.” Decker’s hands moved from my thighs, which were straddling his waist, to my ass and he squeezed, pressing me harder against him.

Good. That meant I was getting to him as much as he was getting to me. It had been the same song and dance since we shared our first kiss a few months ago. We couldn’t seem to keep our hands off each other. Each night, after our parents went to bed, Decker would sneak in my bedroom window, and we’d make out, fondle, rub, and stroke. We’d rounded all the bases except for that elusive home run.

But tonight I was hoping to change that. My parents and his parents were both out for their weekly date night. This time, it was out of town. Tonight, we were alone. All. Night. Long.

I slowed my movements and looked into his green eyes, now dark with desire. “I’m ready, Deck.”

His eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he closed them tightly and shook his head. “No, Case. Anything but that.”

I growled in frustration and sat up so my upper body was at a right angle to his. “What is the problem, Decker? Are you not attracted to me like that?” I glared down at him.

He rolled his eyes and held on to my hips, then raised his core to meet mine, causing me to groan. “Does it feel like I’m not attracted to you?”

“Then what’s the problem?” I knew I was whining, but I didn’t care. “What are we waiting for?”