The whole drive over to the gala I try to keep my tears at bay. I look at my compact one last time, making sure my mascara didn’t run. My eyes look glassy with unshed tears, but I can’t keep them down. I hate being dramatic, especially knowing that I was lashing out while hurt, something I never did with my mother. I guess after a while I stopped caring.
Finally we arrived at the destination at Myrtle Beach Country Club. The driver opens the door of the car for me, and I can smell the ocean from here. Taking a deep breath, I make my way towards the entrance. I can see the wealth everywhere I look. Who would have thought that the daughter of an illegal immigrant whore was about to rub elbows with some of the most influential people this close to Washington, DC? I knew from Professor Forrest that many of the attendees were politicians and judges, since one of the founders was running for Supreme Court judge. I walk in and am ushered through the silent auction area to look around before dinner is served. They have waiters walking around, offering hors d ‘oeuvres and wine to the guests as they mingle and walk around looking at the packages that are going to be auctioned off as part of the benefit to raise funds. I look around the room as I look at the brochure that was at the front entrance. I see the woman that would’ve been my first choice to intern for, if she had not retired to help her husband with his campaign. The brochure has a list of her accomplishments that she had done before and after the foundation was built to help the children in the community.
“Hello, Mrs. Jackson, my name is Olivia Rey, and can I say that you are one of the women I most admire,” I say, blushing.
“Well, thank you, child. And can I say you are a beauty, Ms. Rey. I am glad you were able to join us tonight. Did you go around the tables to see what we are auctioning off?” she says, just like how a true host would.
“Yes, thank you. I would have loved to contribute, but I’m still a student at South Carolina State, so my funds are limited. I came to make the rounds and to see if there would be a moment to pick your brain. Well, if I can,” I say.
“You go to South Carolina? My-” She gets cut off as the announcer mentions it is time for dinner. I wonder what she was going to say.
“Well, dear, I think it’s time for you to find your table. Come look for me at the end of dinner and we might find some time to chat,” she says as she walks away. She has done so much for abused children, trying to pass laws to protect them even from themselves. She has even helped children that are in this country illegally, but have been neglected or abused by the same people that brought them here. Even though she has retired, she still is an advocate for children’s rights. That’s my goal, to help even just one child to have a brighter future.
I find my seat as they are passing out the salad at our table. There is a middle aged man on my right and an empty chair on my left where Nix was supposed to be. I can’t start thinking about him right know, because I’ll get upset again. The man to my right starts talking about his last hunting trip in Africa and how the animals were too wild. Hello, it’s Africa, I want to shout.
I tune him out as I look around the room. Nix was right; they are a bunch of self-centered pricks if my table was the spokesperson for them. The club has been turned into an indoor winter wonderland. There is a huge display of the foundations logo made of ice on the right side of the stage. The center pieces are all made out of crystal, pretending to be icicles surrounded by a lot of bling. There are about one hundred tables with about ten chairs per table. I know the invitations are about five grand per person, and the whole tables are close to fifty grand or more, depending on how close to the stage you want to be, because the front of the stage is the VIP section. This is where the politicians, local celebrities and the foundations founders are seated.
Dinner is a three course meal, but thankfully it goes by pretty quickly. Thank God, because all the people at my table are major snobs. At some point in my life I wanted to be just like them. Not worrying where my next meal will come from or if my jeans are too small. I wanted to have all the money in the world to be happy. But as I got older, I knew that money didn’t buy happiness, even if it kept you clothed and fed. My father is testament to that. He has money, but he is miserable in the life my grandfather chose for him. All I care about is making a difference, and yes, to have a steady income to keep me fed, clothed, and a warm bed to sleep in.
The founders take the stage to welcome and thank all the attendees. They mention the rules for the auction and a brief background of how the foundation helps those adolescents that are caught at a crossroads in their young lives, battling an addiction.
Mrs. Jackson takes the stage to request a moment of silence for Kevin S. Addams, the person behind this endeavor. The life of a youth that had a promising future that was cut short due to drugs and alcohol, and what the repercussions of that night had on both families as they try to piece together their lives after the tragedy. The two families joined forces to create this foundation to help the youth with addiction, and the families and friends for them to understand the long road ahead.
As Mrs. Jackson stops talking, to the left of the stage there’s a huge screen playing a memoriam of all the young people that have lost their lives in the past year even after entering one of the programs the foundation offers. I gasp, not knowing how I stayed in my chair as I take in the last picture they show. There on the screen is a picture of Kevin Skylar Addams hugging a young and laughing Nix in what I assume was his birthday celebration. Nix, oh baby, I mouth silently as I cover my heart with my hand as it breaks for my guy. Why didn’t he tell me that today was the anniversary of Sky’s death? No wonder he looked sad and so forlorn. I wish he had confided in me why he didn’t want to come. I discreetly get up from my chair and make my way towards the restroom to call Nix. I was such a bitch to him today, even though I felt there was more going on with him. But I was too wrapped up in my shit that I didn’t dig any deeper.
I call his phone a couple times with no luck. He is probably still mad at me or at the Battle of the DJ’s already. I call Mandy, but no luck there either. I send him a quick text letting him know that I need to talk to him. I call my driver to come and pick me up, and I forget all about meeting anyone tonight. He needed me and I walked away.
“Nix, amor, pick up. I need to talk to you. Why didn’t you tell me about the foundation, about what today really represents? Please pick up, I’m on my way home. I have been calling Mandy so I can meet you at the club, because I forgot the name of the club.”
I leave more messages like that one, and I call and text Mandy again, too. I know they are probably at the club and can’t hear their phones with the music. I know that Nix is still probably pissed at me. Not only did I make fun of his job, which I have to say he is awesome at, I was indifferent to his reluctance to come to the benefit. I talk myself out of going to him tonight. I will let him unwind tonight and I’ll go over first thing in the morning with breakfast as a peace offering. I get home close to midnight. As I walk upstairs, I send Nix a quick text letting him know I’m home. I walk into the room, grab my pajamas and go to the restroom to change and take off my makeup. I finish and go to bed. I can’t wait until tomorrow to talk to Nix and maybe let him know that I love him. I know it’s crazy and totally not the plan, but el es mi aire. I close my eyes and go to sleep, but not before I kiss my star, my home.
I leave my phone at home so I won’t be tempted to call Olivia and start to beg her to forgive me for being an asshole. As soon as Olivia left, Taylor came into the apartment and we got down to business. All thoughts of Olivia are put in the back of my head for now. I should’ve just explained to her what today is and my ties to the foundation. She already knows about Sky and how it affected me. But I haven’t been sleeping well these past few nights, and I was irritated. The nightmare is present more than ever. I haven’t been able to get Sky’s cries out of my head. I could have saved him if I hadn’t been as fucked up on drugs and alcohol.
I run my hands through my hair, remembering O’s hurt ex
pression in thinking I had put her second. I would never do that, she is more important than me. Her happiness is my priority, but today I fucked up. I should’ve tried to solve this problem in a better way, but it has been so long since I’ve had to explain myself and my moods to anyone. With my parents I just get mad and walk off and they give me my space. Olivia is not my parents; she needs constant reassurance that everything is okay since she never knew where she stood with her mother, and Mandy was just a constant fixture in her life.
I sit at a table at Club Fire with Mandy and some of our other coworkers that are here to support Taylor. She has so many friends that she wouldn’t miss me, but she was my excuse. If I didn’t know that Mandy was going to be here I would’ve skip it, but I need her to tell Olivia that she saw me tonight.
The club is going wild, and there is a pulse going through the party goers. I can see the people jumping to the beat of the music. Some of the DJs are insane; some have costumes and awesome light shows. The music is pumping the right amount of adrenaline that I need to forget about Sky and Olivia just for tonight, I hope.
Taylor doesn’t make the cut to advance to the semi-finals. She ells anyone that can hear that it’s all because she is a girl because boys don’t like female competition. I see her walking from the bar with six shots, maneuvering her way through the crowd. She comes over and sets them on the table.
“Okay, bitches, let’s make a toast. Come on, everyone gets one. You too, Nix, don’t be a pussy and drink up,” she says as she hands me a tequila shot and one to Mandy. “Okay, raise your shot. To friends and to the motherfucking music. Cheers!” she hollers over the pounding music. I take mine. I feel the tequila going down my throat and the fire enters my veins, I realize that tonight I have found my escape.
“Bro, I think I need a ride home,” I slur barely able to stand after six more shots.
I get up from bed, getting ready to head over to Nix’s apartment. I change as quickly as I can. I have to tell him I’m sorry. To ask him to forgive me for my actions. Dios mio, I hope he does. I can’t lose him. I hope one of the sisters is up so they can drive me over to Nix’s apartment. I walk past our front window and see my car parked in the drive way, but Mandy is not in her bed. She just probably crashed with one of the girls. I stop at the Coffee Haus and grab his favorite drink and a blueberry bagel. I’m nearing his apartment and I feel the butterflies in my stomach.
I park and get out of my car, making my way up the stairs and I let myself in his apartment. It’s eerily quiet in here. Nix always has music playing. It seems odd that I don’t hear any in the background. He’s the one who always says music is life’s soundtrack, and that it should always be playing because you never know when a monumental moment will happen, and when it does you need to stop and listen to the song so that you can mark it and record it in your mind.
I continue walking down the hall toward his bedroom, slowly opening the door since my hands are full with the coffee and breakfast.
Looking into the room I see him on the bed, a smile breaks across my face. I open the door further and what greets me takes my breath away. No, no, no. This is not happening. I feel numbness spreading throughout my whole body. I stand there, unable to move. What am I seeing? It can’t be right. This can’t be happening. No. No. No. I’m dreaming. I’m still in the warmth of my bed back home. I close my eyes for a brief moment and reopen them, wanting the images to go away. Suddenly I feel his eyes on me. My body recognizes him as our eyes meet. He looks at me with a smile that quickly turns into a frown when he takes in the tears that are running down my face, something that I hadn’t noticed until now. He looks at me intently and follows my gaze to his bed. I see the blood leave his face.
“Fuck! Olivia!” he yells. I drop the coffee I’m holding and run out the door.
I run nonstop until I reach my car. My brain hasn’t fully processed what I just saw. I can feel my body shaking and my heart pounding so hard and fast against my chest. More tears begin to spill.
What the hell? No. No. No, this can’t be happening.
“How can this be happening to me?” I whisper brokenly as the tears continue to flow. I can hardly breathe from my heart being shattered into a million pieces. I feel like my soul is being ripped out of my body. I’m so hurt, so mad, that I can’t even explain every devastating emotion coursing through my body.
There are moments in life nobody wants to experience, moments that cause so much pain that our animalistic instinct is unleashed, and it’s that moment when the pain turns to rage.
I look over at his car, and I run towards it, pounding my fist on the hood. It barely dents it.
“Mother fucker!” I can feel the pain radiating from my fist. I hold it with my uninjured hand. I grab a rock, and throw it at his car.
“I hate you!”
Bang!
I pick up another rock throwing it, hitting his window.
“You cheater!”
Clash!
I spot a larger rock and throw it with more force hitting his windshield. I see the glass shatter into a million pieces just like my heart.
“Worthless son of a bitch!” I surrender myself to the emotions, and I stand there lifeless.
“Why, God? Why?” I scream into the palms of my hands. I thought he loved me. Falling to my knees, I cry, my hand to my chest, gripping my shirt, hoping it eases the ache. I can feel my weak body as I try to pick myself up. I manage to pull myself together and run to my car. I peel out of the parking lot towards the house. I drive with no regard to traffic laws, because my mind is still on the scene I just witnessed. I park my car and run inside.
I run upstairs walking straight to my room I hear Mandy scream my name from behind me. “Livi!” she calls out for me.
I hear voices yelling my name maybe even screaming at me, but what they are saying is not registering, I see Nix behind her.
“Please let me explain,” Mandy cries, but I don’t even give her a chance to explain. I don’t want to hear anything she has to say. I’m in shock, and my anger is so strong that it takes over my senses. I think I’m still crying, but I don’t realize it until I wipe the tears with my palms.
“Get the hell out, both of you!” I walk over to closet and start grabbing and yanking all of Mandy’s belongings and begin throwing them down the stairs.
“Livi, please,” Mandy says hysterically.
“I never want to see you two again! Do you know what you have done to me?” I yell at them.
Nix walks over and tries to grab a hold of my arm.
“Don’t you fucking dare! Get the hell out! Now!”
“Baby, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry,” he says, dropping to his knees in front of me.
“Don’t you fucking call me baby, you asshole. Get out!” I can’t look at him. He stands on his feet and tries to get me to look at him, but I can’t. I’m so angry, so hurt, so devastated that my only reaction is slapping him hard across his face.
“O, I deserve that, I’m sorry. Baby, we need to talk,” he says desperately. The only thing I can see is the image flashing in my head of the two of them together. I move away from him, clutching my pendant. I pull it with so much force that it leaves a sting on my neck. I throw it at him and it falls to the floor.
“Get the fuck out, Nix.” I don’t know how I can be clearer.
“Baby, I love you.” He turns and walks out of my room. I sit on my bed, turning my back towards the door, feeling defeated.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I can say or what I can do to make it up to you,” Mandy says through her tears, sitting on the bed next to me.
“There’s nothing you can say or do that can make this better.” I can barely say the words without crying. “Get out.” I keep my eyes closed, not wanting to look at her, nor wanting to let my tears run down my cheeks. I feel her weight lift from the bed and I hear her footsteps as they slowly move towards the door. My heart is beating so fast that I no longer hear her as she closes the door.
&n
bsp; And suddenly she is gone.
I actually feel alone. I don’t want to breathe without them in my life, and actually I don’t know how I am going to survive. But I know I have to. I know she meant it, that she would ever mean to hurt me, but I just can’t forgive her. I don’t think I ever will.
I manage to get up from my bed and grab a towel, heading towards the shower. I turn it to the hottest temperature I can tolerate and step in. I feel the scorching water hit my skin, and for a minute the pain from my heart moves to my skin. I lean against the shower wall and slide to the floor, letting the water run all around, taking in the burn and trying not to allow myself to think about any other pain, but the superficial one. I can’t stop the tears from falling. I hear my sobs echo and I try to quiet myself. But the more I try to quiet them the louder they become. I give up and let myself cry it out. I don’t care who hears me. I sit in the shower until the water runs cold, and I stand to shut it off. I grab my towel with just enough energy to wrap it around my body, not even drying myself. My hair is dripping wet, but I don’t care. I see that my eyes are red and swollen in the steamy mirror. It makes me look away. I open the medicine cabinet and grab some melatonin to help me sleep. All I want is to forget this day, at least for now.
I climb into bed. My eyes are heavy from the crying and the melatonin. It is late morning, but I can no longer endure this pain. Heartache is the worst type of pain; there is nothing I can take to heal from it, no medication can make me better. Sleep is the only thing that can numb me. I close my eyes and succumb to the darkness.
I feel my head pounding. I turn to look at the time and it’s ten in the morning. I can feel my eyes swollen and the pain in my chest. Closing my eyes, I hope yesterday was all a bad dream. I lay my head back down and close my eyes, feeling some tears escape as they trickle down my cheeks and onto my pillow. I don’t even bother to wipe them. I don’t have the energy. I’m still in my towel and don’t care to change.
Guarded Hearts Page 12
