The Bad Boy’s Heart

by Holden, Blair

  But, things were obviously a bit different now.

  We’d had the big heart-to-heart, the one where I confessed that I didn’t feel like I fit in his life anymore, and, ever since that night two weeks ago, he’d been trying to chase my fears away. He’d find little ways to tell me he loved me all day, he’d show me off in front of his friends, made me come watch him practice so that I’d see that not all the guys on his team were arms up against commitment and monogamy.

  I definitely appreciate his efforts.

  And because he’s working so hard, I’ve decided to work on myself, too. He deserves someone better than a person who’s always going to think less of herself, who’ll never have the confidence to claim him, love him, and be with him like he deserves. I needed to fix myself for him and for me. So, I’d randomly started looking up therapists in the area. Cami indirectly gave me the idea to talk to a therapist because she’d bring up a lot of the things she learned in her psych classes. I’m not sure right now if that’s what I need, opening up to a total stranger, but I’m looking into it.

  “What’s on your mind, Tessie?” We’re walking to the nearest mall instead of driving. It’s cold outside and we’re bundled up in our coats and scarves, but it’s still nice, perfect to have him keeping me warm. Cole’s arm is slung over my shoulder, and, as he asks me this, he tightens his hold around me.

  I don’t try to hide things from him anymore; if I’m feeling something at a particular moment, then I tell him. We’ve both seen how poisonous bottled-up feelings tend to be.

  “I like us, just like this. Things are good now, aren’t they?”

  He smiles and kisses the tip of my nose. “Things are always good with us, Shortcake; that’s the best part. Nothing that’ll ever happen is going to make me question us. We’re fighters; you need to remember that.”

  It’s when he says things like this, things that make happiness spread to my bones, that I remember why I’d been through hell for him and why I’d actually not mind going through it again.

  Only if it led us here to this point.

  It’s not the greatest idea to shop for your actual costume on the day of Halloween itself, but hey, we’re students, and we barely get time to eat, sleep, breathe, and shower—in no particular order, so the store managers need to stop rolling their eyes at us.

  “Ugh! Why does this costume industry insist that women demean themselves by wearing something that wouldn’t even cover a newborn child!”

  Cole stands in the corner of the latest store and coughs, trying to muffle his laughter. He’s enjoying this, enjoying watching me squirm. Because yes, I did walk into a sex shop and sift through dominatrix costumes for a good fifteen minutes before I realized where I actually was.

  I’ll never look at hot-pink, fuzzy handcuffs the same way again.

  And my so-called boyfriend just stood there, watching me stand with a whip in one hand, handcuffs in another, and think about my outfit out loud.

  I feel my cheeks get hot as I remember his face when realization finally dawned on me. Let’s just say he’s going to have to work really hard to get a repeat of this morning.

  “Well, we could always go back to the other store and get you that leather bodysuit…”

  I whirl around from the mirror and shake my finger at him. “Stop right there, buddy, you are supposed to erase that memory from your head. It never happened; I’ll deny it if you ever bring it up. Ha!”

  His face turns red, he’s trying that hard not to laugh, and then fails. The manager walking around scowls at us, before eyeing the crumpled-up dress in my hands. It’s not a dress; it’s a piece of floss that’s supposed to make me look like I’m a cat.

  Desperate times for Tessa O’Connell.

  “You buying that or not, lady? It’s one of our most popular options, and you’re creasing it.”

  Humankind needs to do a lot of hard work to restore my faith in it. I shake my head and give the dress back to him, returning to the racks to peruse my choices that won’t get me arrested for public indecency.

  “Why aren’t you looking? I thought you needed a costume, too,” I ask Cole absentmindedly as I contemplate going as a fried egg; everybody likes eggs, right?

  Then I remember that this party is being thrown by one of the more popular fraternities. Cami’s on-again, off-again friends invited us; well, they invited Cami, who was asked to invite Cole. I assumed that as an extension, I was also invited. Even if I wasn’t, I’m working on allowing these kinds of things to slide.

  That doesn’t mean that I’ll go looking like a freaking friend egg.

  “I’m a guy; I’ll slap on a suit and say I’m James Bond.”

  The man does look good in a suit and tie.

  “Well, work harder; be more creative.” If I have to traumatize myself in the process, then he should, too.

  “If you figure out what you want to go as, let me know; we’ll coordinate.” He shrugs his shoulders like it’s that easy. Of course it’s not, the pressure of being a couple on Halloween is more than dressing yourself as in individual. You can’t be cheesy, have to avoid being “that” couple at all costs. The one that freakishly color-coordinates every part of what they’re going to wear or, even worse, match! If that doesn’t scream codependence, then I don’t know what does.

  “What if I decide to go as Jay-Z, would you go as Beyoncé?”

  My goofball sticks his chest out and flips his imaginary long hair. “Everybody wants to go as Beyoncé; few can pull it off.”

  This is going to be a long, long trip.

  ***

  In the end, we do figure out what we’re going to wear that night, and I say goodbye to Cole for a few hours to get things in order. He doesn’t know what I’m wearing. I found the perfect thing while he’d excused himself to get some sustenance, which basically meant he’d left me alone to hang out in the food court for no other reason than that my indecisiveness was giving him a headache.

  Well, I showed up, I found the greatest costume of all costumes, and he wouldn’t get to see it until I wore it for the party. Which also meant that he bought one for himself and wouldn’t let me see it, either; we’re compatible, if nothing else.

  I stow my finds for the day in my dorm and am about to leave again when I run into Sarah coming back. Her eyes look puffy and she looks physically drained. I immediately go into the “good friend and roommate” mode; she’s been there for me more than enough recently, and it’d be nice if I return the favor.

  “Hey.” I open the door for her and watch her sink down on her bed, curl up on her side, shoes and all, and pull her duvet on top.

  “Hey,” she sniffles.

  We have the supplies for making hot chocolate in our room for such occasions, and I immediately get to task. In the short six weeks I’ve known her, Sarah and I have developed our very own rituals, and this is one of them. I make her one big steaming mug of the good stuff and set it by the table.

  Sitting on my own bed, I try to get her to talk.

  “Another fight?”

  At first, I didn’t take her constant arguments with her boyfriend seriously. They’d always make up the next day and go back to their late-night Skype calls that made me put my headphones in. But recently, it looks like things are going from bad to worse with her and Grant, the boyfriend.

  She nods her head and sniffs.

  “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

  This time she shakes her head.

  “It’ll make you feel better, and we can call him horrible names together; that always helps.”

  She takes some time before responding but then gets up and leans back against the headboard of the bed. Grabbing her mug of hot chocolate, she stares at it intently before looking at me with her watery eyes.

  “I think we just broke up.”

  Whoa, was not expecting that.

  I try to make sure my mouth isn’t hanging open.

  “Why would you say that? I’m sure it’s just a fight…you guys will pu
ll through. I’m sure.”

  She doesn’t look convinced.

  “I told him that I was tired of him calling me at odd hours and that he needs to value my time. I plan my day according to his schedule, whenever’s convenient for him and the crazy hours he keeps with that band of his.” She takes a long, draining sip of her hot chocolate. “That’s not right, is it? It’s one thing for me to want our relationship to last, but it’s like he forgets that he needs to make an effort as well.”

  I stay quiet for a while and let her dwell upon her thoughts; it’s all hitting a bit too close to home for me to give her any advice. It’s not like I hadn’t felt something similar a few weeks ago.

  “And what did he say?” I ask her softly.

  “He doesn’t get it! He never does; he thinks I shouldn’t have gone to school so far away, should have stayed with him in that suffocating small town. And even now, he makes it seem like it’s all my fault that we hardly have any time for one another. He knew it was going to be like this; he told me he didn’t want to break up. I…I believed him. God, how could I be so stupid?”

  She starts crying in earnest right now, and I immediately cross over to her and wrap my arms around her frail shoulders. She’s shaking so much, and I’m hurting for her because I know what this kind of pain feels like. But I also know that nothing I can do or say is going to make her feel better; she just needs to feel everything until she’s okay with feeling it.

  ***

  A couple of hours later, Cami has joined us and is attempting to cheer Sarah up by teaching her about the three S’s of Halloween costumes.

  “You can either be sexy, scary, or shut the fuck up, I don’t want to play dress up.”

  She’s not really being successful at the cheering-up part.

  “But the choice between the three is pretty easy. I could rock the scary look because hey, it’s not like I have guys looking at me. Nope, so if I want to put in fake fangs or fake blood and guts coming out of me, then I’ll do it,” she declares emphatically.

  Sarah is curled up on her bed; her eyes still look bloodshot and puffy, and they would, given the amount of crying she’s done. But we’ve surrounded her with lots of ice cream, loaded the latest feel-good rom-com on her laptop, and have our in-house comedienne dishing out her best.

  But she still looks so sad.

  It even manages to make Cami’s confidence falter. She shoots me a panicked look and then reaches for the shopping bag that holds my outfit for the ill-fated party.

  Obviously, I’m not going anymore, not when Sarah’s this devastated.

  “Let’s see what Tessa got since she needs to be on top of her game. We’ve got all these vultures just looking for the right opportunity to swoop in and sink their claws into some Sexy Stone. So, this costume needs to be one hell of a sexy one.”

  She peeks into the bag, and I know she’s put the pieces together without even seeing all of it. The wig is sort of a huge giveaway, and all the sequins are just plain obvious.

  “No way!” she squeals, and even Sarah looks up; yup, that’s our in.

  I shrug. “I saw it and remembered something Cole once said to me, maybe we were watching it on TV. I don’t really remember, but it just sort of stayed with me, and then I found this and knew it was meant to be.”

  Maybe I’d get another opportunity to wear it, Cole and I could try something new, god knows he must get bored of how scared I am of trying new things.

  Getting back on track…

  “It’s absolutely perfect! You are going to look so good, Tessa, and with the right makeup…”

  “I’m not going.” I try not looking directly at Sarah as I say this, and hopefully she doesn’t catch my eye. “Cole and I are going to do something next week instead; it’s not a big deal.”

  She opens her mouth to argue, but I shake my head and nod toward Sarah, who has started staring into the distance with a really eerie, blank look on her face. You don’t leave a person alone when they’re like this.

  “Oh.” Cami bites her bottom lip. “I guess that makes sense.”

  Looking at the clock, I see that it’s well past six and that Sarah hasn’t moved from her spot in over five hours. She abandoned the hot chocolate halfway and obviously hasn’t eaten anything since morning. I’m about to tell her to get up and go with me to the cafeteria when there’s an insistent tapping on our door. It must be Cole; it’s going to kill me to tell him that we’re going to have to cancel our plans because we were both so desperate to have this one night of fun. One night where I’d prove to both him and myself that I was over my silly fears.

  Putting on my brave face, I open it and prepare myself to tell him the bad news, but he surprises me by grabbing my wrist and pulling me outside. He gently closes the door behind me and holds me by the waist.

  “I found this guy outside.” He nods to his side, and that’s when I notice the tall, dark-haired guy standing a couple of feet away from us. If it weren’t for the fact that he was completely rumpled, with his well-worn clothes, messy hair, and tired-looking face, I’d say he was…

  “No way! You’re Grant, aren’t you?” I slap my hands over my mouth.

  His exhausted blue eyes seem to get some light in them. The more I look at him, the more he looks like the guy in Sarah’s pictures, just as good-looking as she said, but right now he looks like he’s been through hell and back.

  “You’re Sarah’s roommate, I…I saw a couple of photos on her Facebook. Is she inside? Can I go in?”

  “How’d you even get here so fast? You guys broke up less than ten hours ago…she’s still crying her eyes out for you!”

  He flinches. “I got on the first plane I could find…just can I see her, please?” His southern accent coupled with how polite he’s being pretty much makes my decision for me. I look at Cole, and he gives me a lopsided smile, like he’s with the guy.

  “Just one sec.”

  I go inside and grab Cami, who’s still trying to salvage her one-woman act, and drag her outside. Sarah is barely registering us, so I manage to do so without giving away the big surprise that awaits her.

  “Why’d you do that? I was just about to get a smile out of her!”

  Shutting the door gently behind me, I say, “Cami, meet Grant, Grant, meet Cami, and then go inside and make your girl happy, please.”

  I’ve never seen a man say hello and run so fast; the next thing we know, he’s left us and inside, and Cole, Cami, and I are just standing there, feeling a bit shell-shocked.

  “Can you believe he came all the way here from Texas? Talk about a grand gesture.” We’re both pretty much swooning at this point.

  “I know! It’s so romantic.”

  I sigh and Cole nips at my lips with his, “Hey, if all it takes is getting on a plane to win you over, you should’ve told me earlier, before I robbed the state’s Kit Kat supply.”

  I snuggle into his side and kiss just beneath his ear; Cami’s got her ear plastered to the door of my room now, so PDA isn’t a concern.

  “I’m glad you don’t have a reason to hop on a plane and travel two thousand miles to see me. I’m glad you’re right where you are.”

  “But it would be like she said, a grand gesture. Wouldn’t you like that?”

  I fold myself into his chest. “Nope, nothing’s worth that kind of a distance.”

  “Ten bucks says they’re having makeup sex in there,” Cami whispers conspiratorially.

  And yes, that does ruin the mood a little bit.

  ***

  In the end, we do decide to go to the party since things were obviously going better for Sarah. It was a bit awkward when I went in a little while later to pack an overnight bag and give her some time alone with Grant. They’d obviously been kissing and doing a bit more and looked absolutely disheveled when they sprang apart. I quickly grabbed the essentials and my costume before saying goodbye.

  I’m so ridiculously happy for her!

  Now we’re back at Cole’s and getting ready fo
r the night. It’s been quite the emotional day, and I’m in the mood for some fun. So, I’ve kicked Cole out and taken over his room, getting ready to give him the surprise of his life.

  When I saw the dress, I’d been a bit concerned about being able to pull it off because it’s definitely a lot more daring than anything I’ve ever worn. But I imagined his reaction, and that’s what’s driving me to go through with this.

  After a nice long shower, I put on a robe over the matching underwear I’d scrounged for in my collection and dry my hair. Because it’s going to be trapped under a wig tonight, I don’t pay much attention to it and, after air-drying it, pull it up into a bun. I concentrate on making sure my makeup is right for the getup I’m planning. Pulling up some pictures on my phone, I try to match it to the real thing as much as possible. After getting as close as I can, I take a deep breath and go for the dress. Praying that it’s the right size, I slide myself into the sparkly red fabric. It clings to every curve I’ve got, and I’m glad that I’ve kept working out after getting here. After I’ve pulled it up to right over my boobs, I examine myself in the mirror.

  Well…it could’ve looked worse.

  It doesn’t look as obscene as I thought it would. The dress is tight, but instead of making it look like I’m purposely cutting off my air supply, it looks…good and emphasizes all the toned parts of my body.

  My boobs aren’t on show, but the strapless, sweetheart neckline creates a nice cleavage, but the kicker, well, the kicker is the slit that runs the length of my right leg, going a good few inches over my knee but stopping before I pull a Kendall Jenner, nope, no hipbones here.

  I’ve never worn something like this, but Halloween seems like the best opportunity to be brave, to try something new and terrifying, right?