by Gia Riley
“I know what you’re doing,” Hollis says with a laugh.
“Shut up,” I tell him as I tie the belt on my robe.
“You’re glaring at me. Aren’t you?”
There’s no mirror in the room, and I can’t figure out how he knows. “Yes, but you can turn around now.”
“You’ve got it bad, Chandler.”
Ignoring him, I climb back into bed.
He pulls a bottle of medicine out of his hoodie pocket. At first, I think it’s for him, but then he hands me a little cup of red liquid. “It’ll knock you out, so you can sleep this shit off.”
I don’t want to throw up anymore, so I swallow it, gagging from the awful taste. Within minutes though, I’m groggy, and I can barely keep my eyes open.
Hollis takes my temperature, just like I did for him last night. I wasn’t sure if he remembered me taking care of him, but I guess he was more with it than I thought.
That doesn’t mean I’m going to forgive him anytime soon for making me sick though. “You’ll pay for this, Hollis,” I grumble.
Leaning down, he whispers in my ear, “That’s what you get for kissing me.”
That one comment sets my world on fire. He swore that, if I didn’t tell Wirth about the kiss, it’d be forgotten. Yet here we are, going back and forth about it—again.
There are so many things I want to say to him, but now isn’t the time. I make a mental note to address it in the morning—when I’m strong enough to hold my head up—because I can’t keep going like this. The guilt is too much.
For now, I snuggle into the pillow and close my eyes.
At some point, Hollis lets Wirth back into the room. My brain can only concentrate on bits and pieces of the argument they’re having, but it’s clear it’s about me.
Wirth’s threatening Hollis, asking him what he gave me. And Hollis is telling him to chill out.
He must have seen the cup on the nightstand.
“I’m okay,” I whisper, unsure if either one of them can hear me over the shouting.
Then, someone shakes my shoulders—Wirth, I’m guessing.
“I’m okay,” I say again, annoyed that they aren’t leaving me alone.
“Let her sleep, man. It’s just cough medicine.” Hollis.
“She’s my responsibility. And she’s not waking up.” Wirth.
If they listened to me, they’d see I was awake. I’m fine.
But there’s more arguing, this time about me choking and dying in my sleep—the same concerns I had for Hollis last night and the reason I got into bed with him in the first place.
Hollis mumbles under his breath. I can’t make out what he’s saying, but if I could get out of bed right now, I’d tell them both that the medicine was helping. It’s made the aches and pains disappear.
The bed dips beside me. This time, I can tell it’s Wirth, especially when he runs a finger down my cheek.
Gathering all of my strength, I get my eyelashes to flutter open. Wirth’s blurry, but I can see him.
I think I might even smile when I say his name.
“I’m not leaving, Chan,” he says in response.
His blurred silhouette disappears, and I’m blanketed by the darkness again. I’ve never wanted to sleep so badly.
The next time I open my eyes, all the aches are back. Though it seems like I’ve been asleep for days, it’s still nighttime. And Wirth is still beside me.
I’m not sure what time I took the last dose of medicine, but I want to be numb again, so I unscrew the cap from the bottle. I’m too shaky to pour it into the tiny cup, so I hold it to my lips and drink it down.
Wirth stirs behind me, and then he bolts out of bed so fast that I spill some medicine down the front of my robe.
“What did you do?” he questions as he gets on his knees in front of me. “How full was this bottle?”
“I don’t know,” I tell him. “It’s not mine.”
He stands up and runs into the hallway. A very grumpy Hollis follows him back into the room. They start to argue again, and I decide I’m either having a serious case of déjà vu or this is all a dream.
“Should we make her throw it up?” Hollis asks.
Wirth sits me up, and I vaguely hear the word hospital. But I don’t need a hospital. I just need sleep.
“I’m fine,” I mumble as the warmth fills up my insides.
The pain’s already disappearing, and my eyes are heavy again.
“Tell me what to do, Hollis.”
Nothing, I shout at them as I drift off to sleep again.
That’s the last thing I remember. Because, between the medicine and the fever, I’m too delirious to care.
Wirth
Chandler’s asleep for a solid two hours before she finally opens her eyes again. I’ve watched every breath she’s taken, worried the medicine would somehow make her stop breathing.
“How are you feeling?”
She’s looking right at me, but when I wave my hand in front of her face, she doesn’t even blink.
“Say something, Chan.”
“I’m sorry I kissed him back,” she mutters groggily.
She’s obviously still dreaming, so I snap my fingers in front of her face. This time, she flinches, so I know she’s actually awake.
“I didn’t mean to do it,” she whispers just before her eyes close again.
“Chandler? Wake up for me, babe.”
She’s not making any sense, and I’m worried something’s wrong. But she’s still too drowsy to fully wake up, and all I can do is wait for her to sleep it off.
But, as I sit on the edge of the bed, staring at her, my mind’s going a mile a minute. I’m trying to piece together what she could possibly be talking about, and I’m coming up with nothing.
Who did she kiss?
When?
And why’s she dreaming about it?
The only guy she’s been around besides me is Hollis. Sure, it’s no secret he’s attracted to her and wanted her for himself before I came back to town. But he wouldn’t do that to me. Not when we’re all living under the same roof. He’s not that stupid.
He wouldn’t kiss her.
I tell myself that ten times, hoping I eventually believe my own words. But I’ve been burned too many times lately to keep from jumping to conclusions. Who else would Chandler be talking about? She’s brand-new to the city, and she spends her days with a bunch of other dancers—all of whom are female.
“Chan,” I say one more time as I lean over her, shaking her shoulder hard enough to wake her but not forcefully enough to hurt her.
She moans, and then I hear her softly snoring again. I’m not getting anything out of her anytime soon, so I barge in Hollis’s room, scaring the shit out of him in the process.
“What happened? Is she okay?” he asks in a panic.
Standing at the foot of his bed, I see red.
It’s him.
It has to be.
The betrayal I felt when I found Shannon on her knees in the office comes rushing back. History’s repeating itself, and there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop it.
“I thought we were friends, Hollis.”
“We are, man. I told you I was sorry about the medicine.”
The medicine has nothing on this. Sure, I was pissed he’d offered it to her, but I was more worried than anything. I knew he’d never intentionally hurt Chandler. But what I didn’t know was that he’d have no problem touching her.
“You knew she was my girlfriend.”
“No shit. You two won’t let me forget it, reminding me every chance you get.”
His response does nothing to sway my opinion of what happened. I’m just praying it wasn’t more than a kiss. Because, if they slept together, there’s no telling what I’ll do to him.
“Did you think she’d choose you?” I question, hoping he’s not stupid enough to lie to my face.
“What do you mean?” he asks, confused.
“She’s talking in her sleep.”
“A lot of people do that, Wirth.”
“Do you know what she said just now?”
“No, I don’t. You’re the one who barged in here, pissed off about something. So, why don’t you tell me what’s got you so worked up?”
He’s just playing stupid. He knows exactly why I’m mad.
He has one shot to come clean before I accuse him of kissing Chandler.
“Is there anything you want to tell me, Hollis?”
“She took some cough medicine. Big deal. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt Chandler.”
“But you’d kiss her, wouldn’t you?”
“What?” he questions.
I’ll give him credit. He’s convincing if nothing else—not a single flinch, blink, or movement. For a second, I think maybe he’s telling me the truth. Maybe it was nothing more than a dream she was stuck in while she was sleeping. Maybe Hollis had nothing to do with it.
But then he goes and gives himself away. He practically confesses when he says, “You know she’d never kiss me on her own.”
He’s right about one thing; she wouldn’t initiate it.
But he would.
That’s why she apologized for kissing him back. And the fact that she was into it instead of pushing him away … well, that’s about all I need to know.
Chandler’s no different than Shannon. They’re all the same, and whatever I thought we had is over.
I’m through with Hollis and finished with Chandler, and I don’t want to be in this apartment anymore.
Chandler can have the stage and the production. She can kiss whoever she wants. I’ll even let her have Hollis. Because I’m done.
“Wirth, let me explain,” Hollis says as he follows me back to my room.
Nothing he could say would change my mind right now. If I don’t get out of here, I’ll do something stupid and punch him in the face. I’m not about to get into a fight over a girl who never wanted me in the first place, so I grab a bag out of my closet and open my drawers.
I don’t look to see what I’m grabbing. I just take two handfuls of clothing and stuff them inside the bag. My wallet and keys are on the nightstand, and I chuck them into the bag, too.
I shove my feet into the first pair of sneakers I can find, not even caring that I’m still wearing an old pair of sweats and a shitty T-shirt.
“Where are you going?” Hollis asks as he follows me to the living room.
I don’t say a word. I know that, if I do, I’ll explode.
I’ve put up with so much shit the past couple of months that I’m due to let someone have it. It’s not my style to throw a punch, especially on a roommate. I need to leave the apartment as peacefully as I left Nashville even though it stings ten times harder this time.
In Nashville, I knew the kind of girl Shannon could be. I’d seen her business dealings, always overlooking what didn’t feel one hundred percent right because I cared about her beyond the contracts and gigs. I gave her the benefit of the doubt when she probably didn’t deserve it—my fatal flaw. I knew she could be a bitch. I knew she wasn’t right for me.
But Chandler. God, she had me fooled. I never saw it coming with her.
“Wirth, please just listen to me. I’ll explain everything if you sit down,” Hollis pleads as I put on my coat and throw the bag over my shoulder.
My hand’s on the doorknob. I’m ready to bolt when I take one more look at Hollis. I could give him a couple of minutes and hear him out. We could have a civil conversation and maybe straighten things out a little.
But that won’t change the fact that his lips were on hers. Or that she might have wanted it. Hell, she might have even liked it. And there’s no guarantee she won’t want to do it again.
“I’m out,” I tell him. “You two can have each other.”
“It’s not like that, Wirth. You don’t understand. Yes, I kissed her. But it was all me. Don’t blame Chandler.”
“She said she kissed you back. Was she lying, Hollis?”
He doesn’t respond. He just shakes his head and stares at his shoes. The fact that he can’t look me in the eye speaks volumes.
Chandler kissed him, and he loved every damn second of it.
“That’s what I thought.”
We always want what we can’t have, and the temptation never let up for Hollis. I guess it was only a matter of time before one of them gave in. I just never expected it to be Chandler.
“She doesn’t want me, Wirth. The girl only has eyes for you.”
He’s obviously been in show business too long. Who talks like that?
“This isn’t 1950. She’s a grown-ass woman who can make her own decisions. And she chose you.”
“She chose to kiss me in the kitchen when I was drunk, but it meant nothing. Chandler wants you, Wirth. Not me.”
I don’t care what she wants or who she thinks she needs. You don’t kiss someone back if you don’t like what you’re getting. And she did.
“Fuck you, Hollis.”
Chandler
When I imagine what it’s like to be run over by a truck and then hit by a train, I’m certain that’s exactly how I feel. It’s like every inch of my body was pulled apart and then shoved back together. And not necessarily in the right order.
The bed dips beside me, and I briefly remember Wirth insisting that I stay in his room last night. I probably owe him dinner or something for keeping him up—and for destroying his trash can.
But, when I roll over and see Hollis beside me, I think that maybe I went back in time and that last night never happened.
“What’s going on?” I ask him as he stares at me. “Am I living this day twice?”
Looking around though, I see we’re surrounded by Wirth’s things. It doesn’t make sense.
“We need to talk, Chandler. Something happened.”
“I got sick, right?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Then, why are you here and not Wirth?”
“Because, earlier this morning, something happened.”
Right away, I assume the worst—that Wirth went out to get breakfast and got hit by a car. Surely, that’s why I hurt so badly. I’m having sympathy pains.
“Say something, please,” I beg him. “What happened?”
“It’s about Wirth.”
Glancing at my robe, I remember putting Wirth’s T-shirt on underneath. I take a little comfort in the fact that a piece of him is wrapped around me even if I have no idea where he is.
“Did Wirth go out?”
“You could say that.”
“Say what? Just spit it out already, Hollis.”
“Do you remember talking to Wirth this morning?”
The last thing I remember is getting sick. I think I threw Wirth out of the room because I was mortified that he’d seen me with my head in a trash can. It wasn’t my finest moment, and our relationship is brand-new. I’m still just a girl who doesn’t poop, and he’s still a guy who doesn’t fart. Which we both know is a total lie but pretend it’s the truth.
“No. I don’t remember talking to Wirth at all. Is he mad that I asked him to leave when I was throwing up?”
When Hollis hesitates, I realize I must have said something awful. There’s no way Wirth would have left without telling me, especially with how sick I’d gotten last night.
“We argued about you chugging the medicine. But there’s more, Chandler.”
Glancing at the bottle on the nightstand, I briefly remember deciding to take some more. It probably wasn’t the best idea, but my body hurt so badly that I was desperate. I can’t afford to miss an hour of rehearsals, let alone an entire day. But, if that’s not why Wirth is mad, then I’m at a total loss.
I don’t like the look on Hollis’s face, so I grab a fistful of the comforter, bracing myself.
“Chandler, I don’t know how to tell you this, but Wirth knows about the kiss.”
All the blood drains from my face, and I feel like I’m going to pass out again. This time, it has
nothing to do with the fever.
“Where did he go? I need to talk to him.”
Hollis takes a deep breath. My body’s envious. I can’t get any air into my lungs. I knew the kiss was a horrible, unforgivable mistake—a mistake that would never be forgotten. And Hollis went and told him while I was passed out from the sickness that he had given me. That doesn’t seem the least bit fair.
“He didn’t tell me where he was going. He just left.”
“Why did you let him leave? You should have woken me up, Hollis!”
“Chandler, it doesn’t matter. He was leaving regardless of what I said. I tried.”
“Did he take anything with him?”
He shakes his head. “A small bag with a couple of things. Not enough to last more than a day though, so I know he’ll be back eventually.”
Wirth could be walking around the city right now, freezing. I’m so mad at Hollis; I want to smack him.
“Why would you tell Wirth? You’re the one who said that, if I forgot about it, it’d go away. I don’t know why I trusted you.”
Grabbing my arm, Hollis says, “Slow down. This isn’t what you think.”
Nothing ever is.
A hiccup morphs into a sob, and once the first tear falls, I can’t stop the rest. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Nobody was supposed to get hurt.
“Chandler, you’re the one who told him. Not me.”
Me?
“I was asleep,” I whisper. Surely, this is a nightmare.
Between the medicine and the fever, I didn’t know which way was up, and now, he’s trying to convince me that I was stupid enough to blurt it all out in the middle of the night.
I don’t buy it. Something happened while I was asleep. I just can’t figure out why Hollis is trying to put the blame on me.
Wiping my face with the sleeve of my robe, I look at Hollis, and the sadness I felt about hurting his feelings is gone. All that’s left is anger.
“I can’t be with you, Hollis. You’re my friend. I thought we were in a good place. Or at least working on getting to one.”
“You think I don’t know that?” he shouts.
The tears fall harder, and I bury my face in the pillow, wishing I could wake up all over again just so this wouldn’t hurt so much. “You’ve ruined everything.”
