Read Long After (Sometimes Never) Online
Authors: Cheryl McIntyre
Long After (Sometimes Never) (9 page)
The bass from the speaker thrums against my side. My cheek is pressed to the cool glass as I stare out the car window. I angle my face up so I can watch the stars blur past. I love autumn. The sky is always so clear.
Other than the music—I recognize this song
as one Chase loaded on my iPod so long ago—the car is silent. Nobody talks—not even Kayla, though it’s obvious she has questions sitting on the edge of her full ruby lips. I feel my hatred for her burn through my chest. She’s everything I’m not. Beautiful. Carefree. Happy.
And she has Chase, who I know doesn’t have much
more to offer her other than a hot body and fun times, but at least he will never tear her heart apart. He just doesn’t have it in him.
I’ve made one mistake after another with Loden. Nothing I do is right. Nothing I do is good enough. Everything is wrong. Everything.
I couldn’t even make it a month this time.
Failure hurts. Literally.
The first week had been great, but it quickly escalated, everything going right back to where it was when we had decided to take the break. If I’m not being accused of wanting to sleep with any male that glances my way, then I’m not dressing sexy enough, or I’m dressing too sexy because I must want the attention of every guy in a ten mile radius. Or I’m chewing in an unladylike manner, talking too softly,
breathing
too loudly.
The lyrics pulse in my ears—“I’m coming
undone, too late, I’m coming undone”—and I feel the tears sting my eyes. Taste the salt in the back of my throat.
I don’t think I’ve ever related to a song so strongly before. I let my eyes flutter shut and just listen. And breathe. And try not to feel whatever it is that I’m feeling.
The car pulls to a stop and a door opens. I force my eyes open to watch Chase get out. He leaves the car running, music playing. My gaze tracks him as he walks around the front of the car and stops beside the passenger side door. His eyes lock with mine in the backseat before he tugs the handle, opening the door for Kayla.
I can’t seem to look away as she takes his offered hand and they walk up to the apartment building. Chase leans in and kisses Kayla on the lips. My stomach pulls tight as I watch her fingers dig into the back of his neck, prolonging the intimate moment.
I think I drank too much because I feel like I’m going to vomit.
After an exchanging of words and Kayla wangles one more kiss, Chase comes back to the passenger door, opening it widely. He pushes the seat forward and pries my hand from my lap. I look up at him and he presses his lips into a straight line. Not smiling. Not frowning. Just a flat line devoid of any one emotion.
I can relate.
“Sit up front with me,” he murmurs.
I let him pull me out and guide me into the passenger seat.
He tries to buckle me, his hair brushing lightly against my cheek, and I smell the scent of his shampoo. It snaps me out of my stupor. I yank the strap from his hand and shove the buckle into place with a click.
All
my senses recognize his scent. Everything inside me screams “
safe, familiar, home
.”
I want
to throw myself into his arms and hope he hugs me. I want to burrow into his embrace and pretend everything is all right in the world.
That I’m all right.
I can feel Chase’s stare pressing into me. I finally look up from the seatbelt and he touches my face. I cringe. It takes a moment before I register his thumb drying the moisture under my eye. Even longer to understand the moisture is from tears. I’m crying?
“Shh,” he soothes. “I won’t let it happen again.”
I shift away, startled by his vow. Afraid of the way I believe him. Sickened by the way I can’t tell him the truth.
I swore I’d make this work this time around and
I can’t get it right. God, I’ve been trying. I’ve been trying so hard. But I just keep screwing it up. Just like my mom. I’m just like her and I don’t know how to change it. Nothing I do is working and it’s only getting worse.
Chase falls into the driver’s seat beside me. He sighs, rubbing his face roughly
, and turns the volume down on the music. He looks tired. I wonder what he’s been doing to be so tired. I heard he got a new part-time job, bussing tables somewhere off campus. I wonder if he likes it. If he’s able to keep up with his school work. Questions I won’t ask.
“What do you want to do?” he asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I don’t know what he means. I shake my head. “I just want to go home and go to bed.”
He nods slowly, but doesn’t move. We’re still sitting, idling in the parking lot of Kayla’s apartment complex.
“Do you want to go to the cops? Try to get a restraining order? Do you want me and Guy to take care of it?” He stops then, searching my face.
I open my mouth. Close it.
Take care of it?
God. No. He wants to go kick Loden’s ass. “Chase,” I choke, “he was drunk.”
“I don’t give a shit if he was fucking drunk, Annie. Don’t do this. Don’t make excuses for him.”
I shake my head back and forth quickly as more tears fall now. “I’m not. I’m explaining. He’s not like that—”
“Like what?” Chase throws back fiercely. “Abusive?” He grabs my arm, shaking it between us in the small confines of the car. “Look what he did to you,” he demands. “Look.”
I do. I follow his brutal gaze and peer down at my arm. I just stare at it, unfeeling. Chase opens his hand and gently touches one finger after another to my skin, covering the matching red marks, one at a time, until he’s circled around my bicep.
“It’s not like you think. He was drunk. He got jealous and we argued. He grabbed me, but he didn’t mean to hurt me. He would never do this on purpose.
He knows his jealousy is a problem and he’s trying to work on it.”
I haven’t taken my eyes away from his hand. He hasn’t removed his hand from my arm.
I take a deep breath and wiggle out from under the warm pressure.
“What are you saying right now? You don’t blame him? All is forgiven? Everything is rainbows and butterflies
because he’s trying?”
I blame myself.
And everything is far from perfect. But I don’t tell him that. “There is nothing to forgive,” I say instead.
Chase laughs with complete lack of humor. He leans over and shifts the gear into drive. “I’m sorry I interrupted. If I hadn’t intervened you guys would have made up by now.” His voice is low, his tone full of sarcasm.
“Most likely,” I agree. “Don’t judge me. You don’t understand.”
“Then explain it to me really slowly,” he retorts.
“No,” I spit. “It’s none of your business. My relationship with Loden has absolutely
nothing
to do with you. This is none of your concern.”
Chase’s hands seize the steering wheel. His jaw clenches, his teeth grinding loudly.
“Maybe not, but it is Guy’s business.”
My stomach somersaults. I press the button, opening my window. I need some fresh air or I might actually throw up. I l
et the wind blow against my skin, cooling it before I turn to face him.
“Are you threatening me?”
He laughs again, his eyes narrowed into a glare that puts mine to shame. “I’m not threatening
you
.” He tips his head in my direction. “I’m just explaining,” he adds, throwing my words back at me. And they hit hard.
“Don’t you dare tell him,” I say harshly.
“Why not?” Chase inquires, his shoulders lifting carelessly. “Could it be because he won’t be able to understand your lame excuses either? Because he’ll want to kick Loden’s ass as much as I do?” He stops at a red light, giving him the opportunity to face me full on.
“Or is it because deep down, underneath all your bullshit defenses, you know as well as I do what Loden did to you is fucked up?”
One. Two. Three. Four
.
“Stop fucking counting,” Chase huffs as he presses on the gas.
“Stop butting into my life,” I fire back. “This is nobody’s business but mine.”
“Not if you’re being hurt.”
“I’m not being hurt.”
“You have fingerprints. On. Your. Arms.”
I sigh in defeat. “I care about him,” I whisper.
Chase is quiet for a long time. He doesn’t speak again until we pull into a parking space on cam
pus. “Do you want to stay in my dorm room?” he finally says.
I shake my head slightly. I just want my bed. But I can’t go until I know he won’t run his mouth and make a big production out of this.
“He’s never done anything like this before,” I lie. “I know he didn’t mean to be so rough. Haven’t you ever lost control before? Haven’t you ever done something you didn’t mean to do? Haven’t you ever made a mistake you regretted?”
Chase inhales deeply, his eyes on mine. He releases it slowly and nods. “Of course I have.”
“And do I strike you as the type of person that would stay in a relationship I couldn’t handle?”
He chuckles. “No. I never thought so.”
“Then please just trust that I know what is best for me—who is best. And that I know what I’m doing.”
His lips press together into that flat line again as he contemplates my words. “I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right.”
“It doesn’t have to feel right to
you
. It’s
my
relationship.”
“He said he was done, Annie. Maybe it’s for the best.”
I ignore that. I have to. We can’t be done. We just got back together. I have plans. We made plans together. He’s promised me a future. I’m not giving up that easily. Not this time. I won’t. We can get past it.
I don’t wan
t to be alone.
“He’s going to wake up tomorrow and realize what happened. He’s going to feel terrible.”
“He should,” Chase states roughly. “Don’t let him off easy.”
“I won’t.”
He closes his eyes and I swear, I think he’s using my trick, counting to ten. When he looks at me again, I’m confused by his expression. It’s indecipherable and something about it pulls at my insides, making my heart beat faster.
“If he ever does it again—anything remotely close—you call me. In fact, I think you should give me a call every night. Just check in so I know everything’s cool.”
“What? I’m not a child—”
“I
know you’re not. Fucking hell. I know you’re not a child, Annie. Just do this for me or I’ll worry all the time.”
“Why?” I say so quietly I’m surprised he can hear.
“You’re my friend. I care. Just call.”
I nod. “Okay.”
He returns the gesture and I open the door. It creaks loudly in the still night. I stand next to the car, trying to find the right words to thank him.
“Chase…”
He leans, looking out at me through the open door. “Goodnight,” he says softly.
“Goodnight.”
He waits until I’m safely inside before pulling out of the parking lot. I droop against the wall, press my hands to my eyes, and cry.
I get inside my dorm room and contemplate turning right back around. I don’t feel good about how I left things with Annie. My gut is telling me this is wrong. That I should do more. But I don’t know what
more
I can do. I can’t force Annie to stay with me. I can’t force her to stay away from Loden.
I press my head against the cool wood of the door and thump it several times. My hand squeezes the knob until my fingers cramp. I hate this war Annie causes inside of me. I don’t like feeling unsure. I could do without all this inner turmoil over a girl that hates me more than she will ever like me.
“What are you doing?” Guy asks. His voice—scratchy, nasally, and unexpected—makes me jump.
I release my death grip on the innocent door and about-face. His red-tinged eyes catch my attention first, causing me to look closer at him. His hair is pressed to his skull, looking unwashed, which is unusual for Guy.
His clothes are wrinkled and I’m pretty sure that’s the shirt he wore yesterday. He looks like shit.
“
What are you doing here?” I ask. He sighs, his shoulders sinking. “You sick?”
He flinches and averts his eyes. “That bad, huh?” He chuckles darkly. “No. I’m not sick.”
“What’s up, man?” My body tenses. Guy is one of the calmest people I have ever met. He never looks like this. And since he moved out of the dorms, he has never just showed up in my dorm room like this. Something is obviously bothering him. My mind moves quickly over the different possibilities. Did he find out what Loden did? Is he pissed I didn’t call him? Did something happen in the three minutes since I dropped Annie off? Did something happen to
her
? “What’s wrong?”
“Not out here,” he says. I watch him as he crosses the common room and disappears inside
my bedroom. I hesitate for only a second before I follow.
“What’s going on?” This is the third time I’ve asked the same question, just in different words. If he doesn’t answer me rea
l damn soon I’m going back to Annie’s.
Guy sighs, the sound so melancholy, my head snaps up to read his expression.
Shit
. He’s sad. Yesterday he was flying high because Hope would be coming home soon to visit for the holidays.
“Samuel and I broke up.” He says the words matter-of-factly and throws in a shrug at the end. He gets an A for
effort, but he may as well be made of glass the way I see right through him.
“Shit, man. I’m sorry.”
He runs his hands through his hair, staring over my shoulder, but seeing something other than the sand colored wall behind me.
I sink down beside him on his bed, my arm pressing into his. “What happened?”
“Nothing. Everything.” He closes his eyes, pressing his lips together. There’s a line creasing his forehead and I get the impression he’s trying not to cry. What the hell is in the air tonight? I don’t know how much more sadness I can deal with.
I put my arm around his shoulder. I feel his body tense before he relaxes into my side.
“I know it’s early, but when he came over tonight, I asked him to go home with me for Thanksgiving, and he said he wants to see other people. I took that as a no.”
Fuck
. Guy hasn’t always been a one man kind of dude. But he and Sam have been serious for a couple years. I know he loved Samuel.
“I’m sorry. That sucks. Do you want me to kick his ass? I don’t think it’s a hate crime if I do it because he’s a dickhead.”
Guy laughs and shakes his head. “Not this time,” he says. “He’s allowed to want something else. Someone else. At least he respected me enough to tell me. We actually ended as friends.” He laughs again, sadly this time. “Doesn’t make it hurt less.”
“What
’s Park doing? We can all play XBOX and get shitfaced drunk.”
He sits up straight and stretches his
arms over his head. “Where do you think?”
“Lucy?”
“He’s hooked.”
“So he doesn’t know?”
“Nope.”
“Fuck it. We don’t need him.” I roll the TV stand over and toss him a controller.
I find my hidden stash—a bottle three-fourths full of Jack Daniels. I spin the lid off, letting it fall on the floor and take a long pull. I hiss at the taste, but relish the trail of heat burning down my throat and settling in my stomach. Guy wiggles his fingers and I hand it over. He chugs twice the amount I did. We keep this up, we’ll both be paying tomorrow for this little bit of numb tonight, but I don’t give a shit. And from the looks of Guy, neither does he. You do what you got to do to get by.
~*~
Annie calls me the next night. It’s close to midnight when my cell vibrates in my pocket. Her name on my caller ID makes my stomach clench.
“Hello?”
“I’m checking in,” her voice is quiet as if she’s unsure she should be calling me.
“Okay. Thanks.”
“Yeah, no problem. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Annie?”
“Yeah?”
I lie back, propping my head on my arm and close my eyes. “How was your day?”
She’s quiet for a long time, as if she’s not sure how to respond. Or maybe she doesn’t want to respond. Finally, she says, “It was good. How was yours?”
“My day? I woke up with one hell of a hangover, courtesy of Gu
y. I didn’t get enough sleep, but I had to get up anyway and go to class. I ate half a bottle of Advil over the course of the day and still have a headache. But other than that—it’s been good.”
“V-8,” she replies.
“Do what now?”
“You need to drink a V-8 and eat something greasy and bready. Like a cheeseburger from
Manton’s. They’re open all night.”
“Okay, I’ll pick you up in five minutes.”
“What? No. I…”
I grin. “I can’t go alone. This was your idea. Don’t back out on me now.”
She growls and my smile grows bigger. I sit up and start putting on my shoes, knowing I have her.
“I just washed my face. I’m in my pajamas.”
I shove my keys and wallet into my pockets and head for the door. “Four minutes now,” I say.
She huffs, but I can hear the smile plainly behind it. “Fine. But you’ll have to give me a little more time. I need to reapply my face.”
“Reapply your face? What the hell do you do at night?”
“Shut up. You’re making me waste time.”
“Fine. Go pretty yourself up for me.”
She
clicks her tongue loudly. “I’m not doing it for you,” she insists.
“Then who you doing it for?” I ask.
“I don’t know. Society?”
I chuckle as I unlock my car door. “First, I need to point out that I am a member of society. Second, if you aren’t doing it for you, then why bother?”
“Is everything you do always for yourself?”
I sit in my car, placing the keys in the ignition, but I don’t start it yet. “Of course.”
“You do a lot for other people,” she says, her voice soft.
“Because I like to do things for people. I enjoy it, so I’m actual
ly doing it for me. Society—AKA
me
—is not going to care if your eyelashes aren’t curled.”
She laughs, making me
smile, once again, as I hold the phone between my cheek and shoulder. “Why do you know about eyelash curlers?”
“I am full of useless knowle
dge. Don’t let my good looks fool you.”
“Whatever,” she deadpans.
“I’m ready.”
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Hurry up before I change my mind and go to bed.”
I chuck my phone onto the seat and start the car. My day was shitty as all hell, but my night’s sha
ping up to be pretty damn good.