“I shouldn’t have done this. I should have done what they said and taken some time alone instead of fucking you a bunch of times. I always do this and it never ends up working out.”
“It’s fine, Katie. It doesn’t matter to me either way.”
She looked up from adjusting the buttons on her pink shirt. I’d become immune to the amount of pink she surrounded herself with. Somehow.
“It doesn’t matter?”
“No. This was never anything special. Just two people having sex.” I zipped my pants and did my belt. Getting caught had totally killed my buzz, at least for a moment.
“Then what was all that about your music and singing me that song? What the hell was that?”
I shrugged. We hadn’t had any more late night conversations, and I regretted that one. I’d let her get too close. I should have just come over and fucked her like she wanted and then she wouldn’t be looking at me like this. All sweet and hurt. “A verbal distraction, like you said. You said you needed something to distract you. I provided it. You’re welcome.”
She stood up, hands on hips. “Are you fucking serious?”
“Why, what did you think this was?”
“I don’t know,” she snapped. “Just go. I can deal with this by myself.”
“I told you that you don’t always get what you want, but you asked for this. You said sex with no strings. Don’t get mad at me for giving you what you asked for. If you want more, you have to tell me. I’m not a fucking mind reader.” I wasn’t sure if she even wanted more. I probably was just a distraction for her until someone better came along. That hurt more than I thought it would.
She opened and closed her mouth, and I could tell she wanted to scream at me and probably slap me in the face.
“Go ahead. Let me have it,” I said, holding my arms out so she could get a good shot.
She swallowed and I swore I saw some moisture in her eyes. She was hurt, but she wasn’t going to admit it. “Just get out of my room, Stryker.”
A few weeks ago, I would have left, but I couldn’t. I’d left her crying once and I was going to do it again. This damn girl had actually gotten to me.
“You don’t always get what you want. So no, I’m not going to leave. Not until we sort this out.”
“What do you want from me, Stryker?” She tried to push me aside, as if she was going to storm out of her own room.
“I don’t want anything from you. I’m not Zack.” Just saying his name made me want to hit something.
She inhaled sharply, as if I’d punched her. That shock was replaced with anger in a blink.
“Screw you.” Tears dripped down her cheeks and onto her chin. I reached up to wipe them away and she didn’t stop me.
“Hey. I just wanted you to know that I’m not him. And I will never be like him.”
She tried to pull away, but held her chin so she couldn’t.
“I. Am. Not. Zack. Got it?” Her eyes finally met mine. She sniffed and nodded.
“I know you’re not him. You’re…you’re nothing like him.” She gripped my wrists, but didn’t pull them away from her face. “Who are you Stryker Grant?”
I said the first thing that came to my mind. “I’m a guy who wants to toss you back in bed and finish what we started.”
So we did.
It was a little slower this time, a little sweeter. She let me kiss her stomach and she kissed mine. Afterward, I didn’t get up right away to put my clothes on and she didn’t either.
“Do you want me to stay?” She was on her stomach and I was on my back, one of her blankets covering us.
She folded her arms under her chin and turned her head toward me. “You don’t have to.”
“I’m not asking if I have to. I’m asking if you want me to.”
She smiled. “As long as you don’t mind sleeping in a pink bed.”
“I’m confident enough in my manhood to sleep in a pink bed, thank you very much. You are talking to a guy who used to paint his fingernails.” I held up my now-unpainted hands. They almost always had grease under them from working on one car project or another, and my fingers were all covered in callouses from playing various instruments.
“You did?”
“Yeah, in high school. Got pretty good at it.” I also had spiked hair and wore a lot of chains, but I didn’t tell her that. I wasn’t proud of that phase of my life. There was no way that Katie would have fucked that guy. Plus, that guy wouldn’t have been caught dead with a girl who surrounded herself with so much pink. We would have dined on opposite sides of the cafeteria and only crossed paths in homeroom. She would have called me a freak and I would have called her a mindless Barbie.
“I can always do my left hand, but I suck at my right.” She held put her hand up and I met her palm with mine.
“I could do them for you, if you want. If that wouldn’t be absolutely weird.”
She laughed. “It’s a little weird, but I’m okay with that.”
We spent the rest of the night talking while I painted first her fingernails and then her toenails with pink and used a toothpick to add little white dots.
“You’re good at that,” she said as I blew on her toes to dry them.
“Thank you.” I screwed the caps back on the polish bottles and put them on her desk as she inspected my work.
“I know you’re not Zack. That was never a question. Just so you know,” she said.
I crawled back under the blanket.
“Are you sure you want me to stay?” She traced the treble clef on my shoulder.
“Yes,” she said, getting under the blanket with me.
Chapter Four
Katie
Stryker never asked me for a definition of our relationship status and I didn’t feel the need for one. He was different. I didn’t want to put him in the relationship column with all the other guys I’d dated. Not that I was or was ever going to date Stryker. He wasn’t the boyfriend type. He was type-less. Not a friend, not a boyfriend. He was a guy. A guy I had sex with and who painted my toenails and let me bitch about my problems and took my sarcasm and thought I was funny.
Stryker was right; he wasn’t Zack.
I was still dealing with presents and calls and notes from Zack. Surprisingly, he hadn’t shown up at my door, so maybe he was finally getting the hint. Or maybe I was just being naïve. I hung out with Britt and Karina, but they just told me I should forgive Zack and let it go. Not fucking likely. But I smiled and told them I had homework to do and just ignored their texts after that. They didn’t understand.
More often than not, I came home to find Lottie and at least one member of our little group deep in conversation that cut off the second I opened the door. I pretended not to notice and they started getting more stealthy about it. As November wore on, the presents piled up, taking up more and more space under my bed. By this time I had at least a couple hundred dollars’ worth of fuck-up gifts, but I just kicked them further under and blasted Miranda Lambert’s “Mama’s Broken Heart” when I thought about them.
I was holding things mostly together, or at least giving the appearance of it, until one Friday afternoon when I came home early from class with an upset stomach–I suspected the shrimp scampi from the cafeteria–and was all set to crawl into bed and die, when I noticed there was someone standing in front of my door, waiting for me. He smiled the second he saw me. Yeah, no more, buddy. That shit doesn’t work on this girl anymore.
“Hey, babe.” He was freshly-showered and wearing the shirt I’d gotten him for our one month anniversary, and standing in front of my door holding a bouquet of yellow roses that still had moisture on the petals from the florist.
“What are you doing here, Zack? I don’t want to talk to you.” I thought he was going to keep blocking my door, but he moved aside so I could swipe my card.
“I know, I know. I brought you these. Yellow roses mean ‘I’m sorry’. I looked it up.” He gave me the knee-weakening smile that had found me across a crowded
room at that party last summer. I looked away from it, like looking away from the sun so you didn’t burn your retinas.
“I’m sorry, Zack. I don’t want to talk to you.” I tried to push the door open, but he stopped me.
“Please. I know you don’t want to be with me, but I just miss you. I want to tell you how sorry I am. I need to make this right. Please.” He held the flowers out to me and I reluctantly took them. They were beautiful. His words were soft and sincere and I saw a glimpse of the guy I’d fallen in love with. And if I was honest, a guy I was still a little in love with.
He stroked the side of my face with one finger. “Please, babe. I just want to talk to you.”
I took a deep breath and his familiar smell brought back memories of the summer, of lying in his truck bed and looking at the stars as he pointed out the constellations.
I pushed the memory aside. “Fine. When?” Definitely not until I stopped feeling like I was going to puke any second. Although I wasn’t sure if it was the shrimp anymore, or if it was the thought of being alone with him. Stryker’s warning went through my mind. Screw him! I could handle this. One last time and then he’d leave me alone and I could start selling the crap he’d gotten me and finally burn all the pictures of the two of us. This would be the period at the end of our relationship.
“Tonight? Can we go somewhere? Just for a little drive like we used to. I need to get off campus for a little while. How about it?” He leaned into me, making it hard to think. Why did he have to smell so good?
“Okay, okay.”
“Look, I have this thing I need to do, but I’ll text you?”
I nodded and he let go of my door. “Sure.”
“See you later, babe.” His fingers brushed my shoulder and he disappeared down the hall. I opened my door and shut it, hard, leaning against it to make sure it was closed. I threw the roses on the floor.
Yellow roses my ass.
***
He didn’t text me until late. Zan and Lottie were having a movie night and everyone else had plans of some sort. I was on the phone with Stryker when Zack texted me.
“I have to go,” I said, sighing. He’d been playing me “Imagine”, by John Lennon on his banjo.
“Where to?” I wasn’t going to be able to lie to him. I passed the phone to my other hand so I could put on my jacket. We hadn’t had snow yet, but it was definitely coming.
“I’m having a chat with Zack.”
He paused for so long that I thought the call had dropped. Finally he spoke, and it sounded like he was gritting his teeth on every word.
“I’m not going to call you an idiot, but you will be if you go. Don’t do it, Katie.”
“Don’t tell me what to do, Stryker.”
“The only reason I’m telling you what to do right now is because you know that you shouldn’t go. I know you know that you’re going to regret it.” The only thing I’d regret was not getting the last word, but I wasn’t completely immune to the fact that Zack had hurt me in the past, physically, and he could again. It was a risk I’d be willing to take to have this over.
“I can hear you thinking,” he said.
“Shut up.” I grabbed my key card and my purse. “I’m going. I’m going to make a clean break with him, that’s all. The end.” The roses were already history; torn and bruised at the bottom of the trash can. I’d taken great pleasure in tearing off each individual petal. My stomach had gotten over whatever had affected me and my head was clear. I was doing this.
His voice was soft and insistent. “Don’t do it, Katie. Please.”
“Why do you care?”
“Because I care about you!” he yelled. “Christ, how can you not know that?” I stopped, my hand on the doorknob. He wasn’t supposed to care. That wasn’t part of our deal, not that we’d sat down and really talked about it, but I assumed that was implied. I shouldn’t have let him sing to me, or talk so much. I should have made a “just sex” line.
I didn’t have time to think about this.
“Then if you care about me, you have to let me make my own decisions. I’ll call you after and you can gloat all you want when you’re right, but I’m going. End of story. Bye.”
I shut my phone off and walked down to meet Zack in the lobby.
***
Stryker was right. I realized it the moment I got into Zack’s truck and he started driving. His energy was different from the afternoon. I didn’t know if he’d been drinking, but I’d seen this side of him before. This was the Zack Parker that scared me. He turned off the main road and into a deserted parking lot.
He hit the automatic locks on the door and his smile dropped.
“So I heard you’re seeing that freak who tried to beat me up at the Kappa party.” All my confidence and bravado deserted me.
The key to dealing with this Zack was to speak calmly and slowly until I could get out of the truck. He wasn’t going to let me go until he’d had his say.
“I’m not seeing him Zack. We’re just friends.” Stryker and I weren’t even friends. I still wasn’t sure if I even liked him or not. But Zack wouldn’t understand that, so I had to simplify it.
He smashed his hands on the steering wheel.
“Don’t fucking lie to me!”
The parking lot was dark; there was no one around. I just had to let him have his say and then he’d let me go.
I took a breath to steady myself and try to calm down. My enemy right now was panic. “I’m sorry, I’m not lying to you. I’m not seeing him. I’m not with anyone. Look, you said you wanted to clear the air, so let’s do that.”
“Oh no, you’re not getting off that easy.” He turned slowly and the streetlight I saw the gleam in his eyes. The heart-melting smile was gone, replaced by something I’d never seen before.
The next moment my head hit the dashboard and I screamed.
The moments after that were a blur of yelling and pain and desperation followed by quiet as he drove me back to campus. I didn’t even realize he’d shoved me out of the truck and onto the ground until I felt the cold pavement under my fingers.
I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think. Tires squealed and then I was left in silence. My head was too heavy to lift, so I lay there with my cheek mashed against the ground, doing my best to just keep breathing.
“Katie?” A voice called my name and I tried to move, but it hurt too much. “Oh my God, Katie!”
Will crouched down in front of me and touched my shoulder.
“Who did this to you?” I still couldn’t answer. “It’s okay, I’ll get you out of here. Come on.” He took my arm and put it over his shoulder, then lifted me into his arms. I wanted to cry out, but my vocal chords wouldn’t work right.
“It’s okay, we’re almost there. Just hold on.” I bounced in his arms as he walked as fast as he could to the elevator and then to my room. He put me in bed and got on his phone.
“Audrey’s on her way, okay?” He crouched in front of me and touched my head. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, okay? How many fingers am I holding up?” He held up four.
“Four,” I said, my voice rough, as if I was recovering from strep throat. I cleared it and looked down at my shaking hands. I could feel blood on my face.
“Good. I should probably know what to do, but I honestly don’t. I should call 9-1-1, shouldn’t I?” He seemed to be talking to himself more than me.
“Don’t. Please don’t.” I didn’t want to go the hospital. I just wanted to crawl into bed and go to sleep.
“I have to. You need to see a doctor.”
“No!” My voice didn’t have much power, but I got my point across. He nodded.
“Okay, okay. Let’s just wait for Audrey, okay?”
***
The next few hours were chaotic. I didn’t get my wish of not going to the hospital, and I didn’t get my wish of not pressing charges on Zack. My parents came and Mom got hysterical all over me.
Everyone from my dad to Lottie to Zan to Stry
ker blamed themselves. If the blame could be baked into bread, we could have fed the world.
It took every ounce of restraint I had to not scream at all of them and say that it wasn’t their fault. I was the one who had made the decision to see Zack when I knew I shouldn’t have.
My parents fought on the way home from the hospital the next morning. I didn’t want to go, but I didn’t have a choice. Coming home used to feel comforting, like I was finally in a safe place, but all I wanted when we pulled into the driveway was to go back to school and watch Law and Order and eat ice cream with the girls.
Mom fussed over me, getting me settled on the couch with a bowl of soup, as if I was five again and had a cold. It took Dad yelling at her before she would move even a few feet away from me. I wished Kayla, my sister, was home, but she was off saving starving orphans in Africa and only had contact with us via an email once a week. She was Mom and Dad’s golden child and I was the baby who couldn’t get anything right.
“Gina, let her be.” Dad always found a way to get Mom to chill out. Eventually. It was going to take a lot of effort on his part this time, though. When it came to Mom, there was only one person who knew how to stop her from pushing the panic button and that was Dad. They were perfectly suited for one another, as weird as that was.
They took their fight to the kitchen and I stole a moment to call Lottie and give her an update, but she wasn’t the only one I needed to talk to. I shifted on the couch, the movement giving me a twinge of pain. The nurses said I was lucky that I didn’t have any internal bleeding. Yeah, lucky was the right word. Fucking stupid was more accurate.
I needed to talk to Stryker, and not just to tell him he was right. I just…I needed to talk to him.
“Hey, are you okay?” Stryker said after Lottie handed him the phone. I heard him walking and then a door closed.
Faster We Burn Page 3
