by A. J. Logan
Kyle slowly pries his eyes off of Dylan and looks to me. “You know exactly what the bullshit is about.” His cold voice doesn’t take me by surprise. This is the Kyle who isn’t getting his way. The oversized man-child is throwing a fit because someone dare not do exactly what he instructed.
“I can’t do this with you right now. I’m at work. Unlike you, I need a job. So either order or get out.”
“You don’t need a job. You choose this.” There’s annoyance, arrogance, and frustration in his tone, but that’s about it. He doesn’t care why I don’t want to live with him, he only cares that I made a decision without his approval that went against what he wanted.
“And that’s one of the many reasons why.” Kyle unwittingly provides me with so many reasons, and he makes sure to remind me of them constantly. And lately, the negative stuff has overshadowed any of the reasons why I’ve stayed with him. In a big way. So big, it’s getting hard to remember the good stuff. Yet, I still can’t end it. Why? Whatever, I’m not dealing with this BS tonight. The day has been long and trying enough without the pissing contest these two are intent on having.
“No, it’s another excuse to push me away so allow me to save you the effort,” he says coldly as he stands, walking to the exit with Andrew following after him.
Him leaving should bother me but it’s a welcome relief. Is that it? Am I waiting for him to dump me to save me the trouble? It’s a ridiculous notion but staying with him to avoid the hassle of a breakup is too.
Snatching the cups of water off the table, I head to the drink station hidden by a small partition. Dumping the liquid down the drain, I set the glasses down as my fingers grip the cold metal rim of the sink.
“You okay back there?”
I jump, startled to see Jett with a sympathetic look on his face. “Oh, yeah. I’m good. Just needed a minute.” Stepping out, I immediately halt in place when I spot Dylan watching us.
“Anyone else you want out of here?” Jett asks, looking to where my attention is focused.
“Nope.” Because that’ll make a bigger scene than what had already occurred. Plus, I’d be admitting just how much Dylan is getting to me, not that he doesn’t already know from the look on his smug face. The guy sitting next to him looks amused, of all things, and keeps a big grin pointed in my direction before he waves. Maybe he’s high or drunk or both, because we are not friends—especially with the company he keeps. Company I’m sure is bound to continue turning up, so I need to find a way to ignore it. Doubt that’ll happen, but I make my best attempt as I get back to my tables, focusing on my customers. It does help distract me, except for the few moments I look over and see brown eyes focused in my direction. Finally, about an hour after Kyle made his abrupt exit, Dylan hits the road too, and I’m able to focus my full attention on getting through the shift. Mostly.
The hours drag on, which makes perfect sense—a fitting end to the kind of day I was having. After clocking out, I make my way to my car, slide into the driver’s seat, and start up my Mustang. Hurrying out of the lot, I can’t wait to get home. I’m exhausted. The first day of the semester wore me out enough, then the shift just topped it off. And from the looks of the ZR1 parked near my spot in the apartment complex’s lot, the night isn’t over.
Making my way to the apartment, I stop when I spot Kyle sitting on my doorstep, his back leaning against the door. He’d probably tried to wait inside, but Willow is usually less than thrilled with him being over when I’m there, so she sure as shit wouldn’t let him in when I’m not.
He stands and stretches as I reluctantly move closer to the door he’s blocking. The door I just want to go through so I can shower and get in bed before I have to do it all over again tomorrow. I’m already dreading it.
“Hey, babe,” he says, leaning forward to give me a peck on the cheek. I stand tense at his touch. Does he not realize how many times I’ve dodged this gesture today? “What’s wrong?”
“Are you serious?” Like he hadn’t left Big Tobe’s in a huff a few hours ago. The look of confusion he gives me says I won’t get anywhere with this conversation. “I’m tired. I want to go to bed.”
“Okay. I’m exhausted too. I’ll just crash here.”
“No. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“And why not?”
“Because I need some time to figure things out.”
“What things?” he asks flatly. Then, not waiting for a response, he continues, “I knew it. He’s already got you fooled.”
“This isn’t about anyone else but us.”
“Are you sure about that?” Kyle asks.
“Yes. And the way you’re acting right now proves that something is off.”
“You. You’re off. You’ve been different ever since—”
I don’t have to guess what he was going to say. I already know because I feel it too. But that doesn’t make me any less pissed that he was about to say it. “Since my mom died.” My voice cracks as I’m unable to keep the pain at bay.
“Sadie, I’m—”
“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry grieving the death of my mother is such an inconvenience to you.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he says, frustrated. He threads a hand through his blond hair, pulling at his roots.
“Then what did you mean?”
“You’ve just been different since that night.”
“I am different. That night altered everything for me, so yeah, it changed me.”
“Sadie, I miss you. I just want us to go back to how we were.”
“I can’t. I don’t even remember how to be that person.” I feel so different, separated from that person. The happy-go-lucky high schooler who didn’t have a care in the world while her mother waited at home for her, allowing her a safe place to land when the latest insignificant drama surfaced. She taught me everything. The only thing she didn’t teach me was how to go on without her in my life.
Kyle plasters on his cocky smile as he bends down, planting a quick kiss on my cheek. “Let’s just get some sleep, and we’ll figure out how to get you back.”
Me. I’m the problem. It’s always what I’m doing wrong, not what he’s done wrong. Like stand me up for our anniversary.
He seems completely oblivious to my less than enthusiastic response as he continues, “There’s a big night planned at the Dome tomorrow. Maybe we can hang out after I take my victory spin.”
A stupid race involving his stupid car and all the idiots from around here. That’s his concern right now.
“I’ll just see you later.” Slipping past him, I push the door open, dash inside the apartment, and swiftly shut the door. Falling back against it, my head hits the door. I wanted to escape him in general, but specifically I didn’t want him to see me cry. Not because I’m ashamed, but because the tears aren’t for him. They’re for my mom. The person he wants to pretend is insignificant and easily forgotten. I know he doesn’t expect me to completely forget about her, but how can I pretend everything is like it was before? Because it’s not. It never will be.
“That bad, huh?” Willow says softly as I open my eyes. “I tried to make him leave but he was determined for some reason.”
I know the reason but don’t want to admit it to Willow—or myself—because I’m trying my best to push both of them out of my head. “He’s just wanting me to be someone I can’t be anymore.”
“Then leave him,” Willow says like it’s not a big deal.
“It’s not that easy.”
“Yes, it is. Just tell him to screw off and move on.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can, Sadie. He’s a piece of shit that treats you like a doormat. Tell him to take a long walk off a short pier and be done.”
“But …” I picture my mom of all people. The person he blames for the downfall of our relationship.
“No buts, just say—”
“Stop!” I yell, covering my face with my hands. It’s bad enough that I already know this. Heari
ng it from my best friend makes it even harder. “I can’t.”
“Why not, Sadie?” Willow asks softly, then places her hand on my shoulder. “I love you. I want what’s best for you. If you want to be with him, I’ll back off … but please tell me why you put up with him.”
I get why she doesn’t understand, because I don’t think I did until this moment either. “My mom.”
“What?” she asks, confused as I remove my hands from my face.
“My mom loved him. We always hung out at my house, and Kyle would be in the kitchen all the time, baking or helping her cook. I’d always tease him, saying he was the daughter she never had because he loved being in there with her.” Moving to the couch, I sit, and Willow hesitantly takes a seat next to me. “If I date someone else, they won’t know my mom. She won’t be there on my wedding day. I’ll be marrying someone who is a stranger to her. Someone she’s never met. She loved Kyle. I’ll never know if another guy is someone she would’ve loved too.” It sounds stupid. But the relationship is something I had when my mom was around. It would just be another part of her that I lost.
“I kinda get what you’re saying, Sadie, but ask yourself if your mom would approve of this Kyle. Would she still love the guy he is now? Would she really want you to stay with him with the way he’s treating you?”
No. He was never like that when she was alive, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out she would be less than thrilled with some of the stunts Kyle has pulled over the last year.
“I never met your mom, but from what I know, she would want you to be happy.” Willow leans forward, embracing me in a tight hug.
“She would’ve loved you,” I whisper as my arms tighten around Willow. And it’s the truth. My mom would’ve loved Willow immensely, just as I do.
“I hope so.” Willow releases me and leans back, her hand gripping my arm. “Are you gonna be okay?”
“Yes. I just need to shower and get to bed.”
“Same.” Willow smiles as she stands from the couch and walks to her door. Before she shuts it, she turns to me. “If you need anything, come get me, or yell. Either way, I’m here.”
“Thanks,” I give her a sincere smile. One thing is certain—I wouldn’t have made it through the last year without Willow. Now, I just need to find a way to get back to me. Not the old version Kyle is hell-bent on reviving, but someone who can at least find a few moments to be happy every day. I’m still going through the motions each day, very little feels meaningful, but my mom wouldn’t want me to be miserable. I know this. And I can keep telling myself the same thing over and over, but at the end of the day, saying it and feeling it are two very different things.
7
Dylan
Standing in the small kitchen, I grab two mugs out of the cabinet, slamming the door shut as I see Bryce stir on the sofa. Pouring myself a cup, I leave the other on the counter and walk to the living room area. Shoving Bryce’s feet to the side, I plop down on the sofa. “Good morning.”
He groans dramatically, sitting up to give me a grumpy look.
“Sleep well?” I laugh, watching as he falls against the back of the sofa.
“I would’ve slept better in my car,” Bryce grumbles. After a beat, he stands to stretch before making his way to the kitchen. “Sure is a nice place you have here.”
“Thanks,” I reply to his sarcastic comment. The place isn’t much but it’s not like I’ve had time to worry about it.
Bryce returns to the sofa, sitting next to me as he sips his mug of coffee. “You know I was joking, right? I know you’re far gone, but this is not a suitable place.”
“It’s decent.”
“No. It really isn’t. I don’t understand why you insist on being miserable.”
“I’m not. This place is fine. Rent is cheap, and it’s close to the campus.”
“Okay. Well, are you planning on putting more in it than a mattress and a couch, or is this some kind of Survivor challenge?”
“I don’t need anything else. I need a place to sleep and a coffee pot.”
“Are you serious?” Bryce shakes his head not waiting on a response.
“No one said you had to stay here.”
“Oh, I’m not. It was late and you caught me at a weak moment last night when I felt sorry for your ass but …” Bryce takes a look over the small apartment. “I don’t feel sorry for you anymore. I’ll be over at the hotel, enjoying room service and a spa, while you rough it here with your lumpy couch.”
“Whatever makes you happy.” I raise my mug to him.
“Going home to sleep in my own bed would make me happiest.”
“No one’s stopping you.”
“Yeah, my moral compass is.”
It’s my turn to laugh. “‘Moral compass’ … if you have one, it’s pointed straight to hell, or at least jail time.”
“True, but I do have a separate loyalty one, so let’s get this shitshow started. It’s getting boring again. What’s on the agenda for this morning?”
“I have a class to get to.”
“Class? Damn. You’re more committed than I thought.” Bryce stands from the couch, walks to the counter, and sets the mug down. “Well, you have fun with that. I’m going to check into the hotel. It’s not too late if you want to ditch this pitiful excuse for an apartment and come with me.”
“Nah. I’m good here.” It might be small and bare, but I’ve actually slept better here than I have in months.
“Suit yourself,” Bryce says, across the living room. He tells me he’ll see me later as he disappears out the door.
I really should get going, but I take a few minutes to savor my coffee before I head out. Hopefully the day goes as planned and tonight will be another step in the right direction. Is there a such thing as the right direction anymore? Not that it makes a damn bit of difference, because right or wrong, I’m on a set course and don’t plan on turning back.
8
Sadie
Why? Why am I glancing around Coyote’s looking for him? I tell myself that Dylan isn’t getting to me, that I’ve only got my eye out because he’s been showing up and I’ve felt unprepared, but now I’ve primed myself and he’s nowhere. I haven’t seen him since last night, and for some reason, I want him to appear. Maybe the lurking-in-the-shadows comment has nestled in the back of my mind. Either way, I shouldn’t want to see him.
“Over it,” Willow says, dropping her books on the table before walking to get in line. Once her coffee is in hand, she returns, plops into a chair, and drops her forehead to the table with a thump.
“Rough morning?” I ask, patting the back of her head.
Lifting it, she looks at me with an exasperated expression. “Is it too late to run away and join the circus?” Her head drops on the table again.
“Yeah. I think that train has left the station already.” I feel her question on so many levels. It may be the circus I want to run away and join, but the thought of running far away from everyone and everything has enormous appeal. I give her arm an encouraging squeeze before glancing up to see Kyle taking a seat next to me. “On second thought, let’s go.”
“Where’re we goin’?” Kyle asks, taking a generous swallow from my coffee, which ticks me off. He doesn’t have to buy me coffee—he’s not a Good Samaritan, after all—but he could at least not guzzle down my much-needed caffeine.
“Nowhere,” I say, grabbing the cup from him only to realize he’d finished it off.
Willow lifts her head, glaring at Kyle as she slides her books in front of her. Flipping the top book open without a word, her glower speaks louder than her words probably could.
“Are you coming to the Dome tonight?” Kyle asks, his voice so smooth I almost forget he’s drank my liquid fuel. I still need to get through the day, and I don’t want to think about the night just yet.
“Probably not. I have a lot to catch up on.”
“It’s the second day of school. How much could you possibly have to do?”
Andrew walks up, taking a seat next to Kyle. As usual, Kyle turns to him immediately, talking about their plan for the night before they both stand up from the table.
“Later, babe. I’ll catch you tonight after my victory spin,” Kyle says, bending down to kiss my cheek as I stare at him.
Does he even hear a word I say?
“Do you think he’d notice if I blew up his precious Corvette?”
“Yeah. That’s probably the only thing you could do to get his attention. Or maybe show interest in a certain someone.” The smile in her voice is clear before I glance to see the matching expression on her face.
“I’ll pass, but I think the ZR1 would get his attention faster.”
“I think that car is the only thing that annoys me more than he does. I guess it’s the fact that they are so intertwined. You know, since he has to brag about winning every single race at the Dome.” Willow dramatically rolls her eyes, and I already know the next words out of her mouth because they’ve left Kyle’s about a million times.
“‘No one can defeat the Beast.’” I mock Kyle’s arrogant tone as Willow chuckles. While excruciatingly annoying, Kyle was right. No one has been able to defeat him and his beloved ZR1. Night after night, many have tried and failed. Yet, drivers continue to gather at the Dome, challenging him, which always results in another victory for Kyle to obsessively brag about.
“So, are you gonna hang out with us tonight? And by us, I mean Parker and I, not Kyle. He’ll be busy driving, so it should be fun.”
“I don’t know,” I say, picturing one of the last times I was there. I’d always enjoyed going to the Dome, watching the drivers race on the abandoned landing strip that the local college crowd had turned into a drag racing spot. It was all fun and games, just a way to blow off steam and gamble, drink and have a good time, until one night a race ended in tragedy. At first, I’d thought it was Kyle or Parker who had lost control and flipped, unable to tell who a panicked Willow was talking about when she arrived at our place. The races had ended, so I’d gone home, but a few stayed afterwards and ended up racing again. Only, it wasn’t Parker or Kyle but their opponent who’d worked his way through all the other challengers that night to make it to the final race.
