This One’s For You

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This One’s For You Page 37

by Brandy Jellum


  The yard in front of the house was jam-packed like a New York subway, but thankfully I had a Manhattan native who carved a path for us through the hoard of bodies. Inside was different than the front, except that everyone was smashed closer together, well on their way to being three sheets to the wind.

  We weaved our way through the house, to the kitchen, and out the back door. I wasn’t prepared for the chaos I walked into. The yard had been converted into something I had only seen pictures of. It was like I walked into a little cabana on the sands of Mexico.

  I stayed near the back of the house, still trying to come down from my panic attack, and scanned the crowd. Searching for any sign of the same guys from the last time—and Owen.

  Instead of taking off in typical fashion, Amelia stayed glued to my side. She grabbed the both of us water bottles, sniffing mine to check it before handing it to me. I raised an eyebrow curiously. She winked, raised her bottle to mine, and clinked them together. Okay, then . . . this was new. Amelia wasn’t drinking.

  A trio of blondes made their way across the back patio, their eyes set on me, and I looked around to see if they were staring at someone near me. They stopped in front of me, and I realized that they were coming for me.

  “Are you Brennan?” blonde number one asked.

  I glanced over at Amelia, who shrugged her shoulders. Looking back, I was astounded by how similar the three girls resembled each other. Long, straight, platinum hair and hazel eyes. If I wasn’t mistaken, I’d almost take them for triplets. The similarities didn’t stop there, oh no, they matched their outfits from their accessories right down to the strappy heels donning their small feet. One wore a bright yellow dress, the one in the middle was wearing a pale blue, and the one who spoke to me was rocking some kind of pastel green.

  “Uh, yeah,” I answered bleakly.

  Blonde number two, in the pale blue dress, reached her hand out to me and grabbed my wrist. “Good, come with us!”

  I tried to pull my hand free, looking back to Amelia, pleading for help. She followed closely and yanked blonde number one to a stop. Her twins stopped and turned back to us.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Amelia spat out. “Let her go!”

  Blonde two released her grip around my wrist. I rubbed the spot where her tight hold was. I narrowed my eyes at the three of them and asked, “What do you guys want?”

  Blonde number three turned, tapped on the guy’s shoulder in front of her, and he moved to the side. Simultaneously, they flashed me a menacing grin. I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me when my eyes fell on the scene in front of me. I pushed my way through the crowd.

  “Owen?” I said, acid dripping off my tongue.

  He was sitting on a beach chair, underneath a blonde-haired girl whose cheeks were peeking out from the bottom of her dress. She didn’t have to turn around for me to know who it was—Felicity.

  I stared in horror as Felicity grinded herself against him, giving him the most vulgar lap dance one could give still fully clothed. They might’ve as well been having sex right there in front of the crowd.

  He looked around his dancing companion; his eyes were bloodshot. His face fell as he met my cold, hard stare. My lower lip began to quiver, tears stinging my eyes. He lifted Felicity off of his lap and stood up quickly. She laughed maliciously at me, wiping the corners of her lips with her thumb.

  “Brennan?” he said, sounding confused. “What are you doing here?”

  “What am I doing here?” I shouted over the music. I scoffed, unable to believe him, and threw my hands in the air. “What are you doing is the better question. Having fun with your little skank?”

  Felicity’s smirk disappeared from her face. She pulled her lips into a tight line, and her eyes darkened. She took a step forward, but faltered when Amelia stepped next to me.

  “It’s not what you think,” he answered. I wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince—me or himself.

  I laughed loudly, my body shaking as it vibrated through my bones. I was speechless. No words could even begin to describe what I was feeling right now. Anger, disappointment, hurt, heartbreak. I was entirely disgusted by his crude behavior. He took a step toward me.

  “Stop!” I said, my voice seeping with anger. I held my hand up, emphasizing my demand. He stumbled a few steps, and I knew he was drunk.

  I grabbed Amelia’s hand, turned, and pushed through the crowd that had surrounded us. I heard him shouting my name over the music, but kept going. I was afraid to stop, afraid that if I did, I’d lose what little control I had left.

  My body shook with anger. I couldn’t believe him . . .  I couldn’t wrap my head around the situation. Deep down, I knew something like this would happen, but the hope that it wouldn’t overpowered the fear. I should’ve listened to my heart, the one telling me that I was making a mistake.

  I made it to the sidewalk in front of the house before the tears broke like a dam. I stopped, bent over, and rested my hands on my knees. Gasping for air as I was slammed with all the emotions I was feeling at once.

  Anger—I was so angry all I could see is red as I stared at the pavement below me. Angry at Owen, angry at how he could do this to me—to us. More importantly, I was angry at myself for being such a fool. For believing he wasn’t as bad as everyone—including himself—made him out to be. I was enraged that I broke my promise, the one thing that held me to Reagan. I was so livid that my body was shaking violently. The tears streamed down my hot face, but I didn’t make a sound. I just stood there, my blood boiling, my heart pounding furiously behind my rib cage, and I wanted to hit something. Preferably Felicity.

  Betrayal—this was a new one for me. I felt like someone had taken a sword and stabbed me straight through my heart. My chest heaved as I tried to even out my breathing. I felt like I was suffocating, like the world was closing in on me. I felt my heart shattering into a million pieces. Owen betrayed me, he broke my trust, and he behaved like our relationship meant nothing to him.

  Heartbroken was the most prominent of feelings. I wasn’t heartbroken at what I saw. No, I was heartbroken because of guilt. Reagan asked me one thing, made me promise one thing, and I let her down. I let our friendship down. I betrayed everything we had shared. I punched the memory of her right in the face, like she didn’t matter. I forgot about what was important, the reason why I was here, all because I fell madly for the first guy who caught my attention. That’s what broke my heart the most, not what Owen had done, but what I had done.

  “Brennan?” I could hear Amelia say faintly over the blaring sound of my heart beating in my ears.

  I held up my hand, asking for just another minute. I stood up, my back toward her, and took several deep breaths. I roughly wiped the tears away from my eyes. I wasn’t going to cry over him. He wasn’t worth it. If I was going to cry, the tears I would shed would be because of Reagan. Not Owen. Never Owen.

  “Brenn?” Amelia said, hesitantly. I heard footsteps approaching me.

  Feeling calm enough to face her, I slowly turned around, expecting to meet her familiar jade-colored eyes. Instead, I was met with the hauntingly familiar bright green, yellow-flecked eyes. My sudden calmness fled like birds from a tree. I was seeing red again.

  “You bastard!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. I lunged for Owen, pushing him backward.

  “Hey,” he said. His cool, calm, and collective voice sent me over the edge.

  I lunged for him again, beating my fists against his chest. My body ached as the sobs rose in my throat. “How could you?” I shouted.

  “Just give me a chance to explain,” he said, his breath filling my senses. Smelling the mixture of aged barley, oats, and smoke, I lost all control.

  I shoved his shoulders, repeatedly banging my fists against him. After a few seconds, his hands gripped me firmly around my wrists, stopping me from hitting him again.

  He stared at me coldly, his eyes darkening, and I couldn’t recognize the person looking back at me
. “I told you this would happen.” His words cut through me like a thousand blades.

  I screamed, hitting a frequency I didn’t know I possessed. I jumped for him again, clawing at his face, trying to get to anything I could reach. I felt a pair of strong arms wrap around my waist, pulling me away from Owen.

  “Hey, hey,” Callen crooned softly. I ignored him, trying to fight my way back to Owen. Callen turned around, and I reached my arms over his shoulders toward Owen. “It’s okay,” he whispered, rubbing my back.

  Sam appeared next to Owen and said something in his ear. Owen’s eyes met mine. I slowed my attempts at getting to him. My body draining with emotion. Callen’s embrace lightened a little, but I didn’t make a move.

  “Why?” I asked, my voice cracking through the sobs.

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Brennan,” he replied, his voice strange, like it didn’t belong to him.

  I let out a piercing scream, finding a new source of energy, and broke free of Callen’s arms. I lunged for Owen again, getting one good shove in, before Callen swooped me into his arms again.

  “You’re a bastard, Owen Scott,” I spat out.

  He laughed heartily, like he found the entire situation amusing. That right there broke me more than anything he could’ve said or done. I buried my head in Callen’s chest. The sound of my painful cries filling the air.

  I heard mumbling behind me, but drowned it out. We started to move forward, Callen still holding me in his arms. I couldn’t form a single thought or word. All I could do was concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.

  I was aware of Amelia following closely behind us, but couldn’t find the strength to look back at her. I held onto Callen’s shirt as if my life depended on. The walk back to the dorm felt like an eternity. The elevator couldn’t move any slower up to our floor.

  I fell to my bed, feeling weak, and unable to move. I curled in to a ball, reaching under my pillow, and rubbing my hand along the photo album I knew was there.

  Amelia and Callen sat soundlessly on her bed across from me, watching me, waiting for me to calm down. I don’t know how much time had passed before I finally quieted down. I laid there for a while, silently letting the tears fall down my face.

  My friends straightened their backs as I sat up on my bed. We stared at one another, unsure of what to say.

  “I’m going to take a shower,” I announced, rising to my feet.

  “I’ll come with you,” Amelia said quickly.

  I shook my head. I needed a moment for myself. It was almost eleven; the bathroom would be empty since most students were still out. It was perfect for me.

  “I won’t take long,” I told her. Amelia’s face dropped, and she sat back down next to Callen. I gathered my things and left the room.

  I took my time in the shower, muffling my cries under the sound of the running water. I washed my body until it was raw, trying to erase any trace of Owen on me. I wanted nothing to remind me of him. By the time I stepped out of the shower, I felt a little better.

  I wasn’t okay. I wasn’t fine with what transpired tonight. I wouldn’t be for a long time. But I wasn’t going to let this keep me down. I was going to keep trucking forward as if nothing had happened. After all, that’s what I did best.

  I hesitated outside my door, staring across the hall at Owen’s door. A thought came across my mind, and I entered my room quickly before I could change my mind. Amelia and Callen jumped as my sudden entrance, but said nothing as I moved around the room.

  I grabbed a duffle bag from under my bed, and started to move around my room as quick as the speed of light. I grabbed everything I could find of Owen’s: shirts he left behind, shirts that I had stolen from him when he wasn’t looking, the little notes he wrote to me while he was in class, the framed photo of us perched on my desk, and shoved them all into the bag.

  I crossed the hall, throwing the bag of memories on the floor in front of his door. I stared, remembering one last time of all the things we shared, before locking them away in the deepest corner of my memory.

  I reached for my locket, thumbing the charm next to it. Only one last thing to do. I turned my necklace, bringing the clasp to the front, and unhooked it. My hands shook as I slid the little donut off the chain. I wedged it between my lips, as I secured my necklace back in place.

  I stared at the charm sitting in the palm of my hand, willing back the tears that swelled in my eyes. I closed my hand around it, digging my nails into my skin. I squeezed my eyes and took a deep breath. My breath was shaky when I opened my eyes again. I kneeled down, gently placing the charm on top of the bag.

  I turned back to my room, pausing inside the door, and looked back one last time before closing the door to that part of my life. Never again.

  I understood now why Reagan made me promise her that I wouldn’t get involved with a guy my freshman year. It was supposed to be a fun, exciting time of my life. And it was, for a while, but all good things had to end sometime. Unfortunately, it was time for it to end.

  I sank on to my bed. I felt my mattress dip and looked to see that Amelia had come to sit by me. I watched silently as Callen left the room. I started to cry again. Amelia rubbed my back, offering me the comfort I desperately needed.

  The last thing I saw was a flash of brilliant green eyes on the back of my eyelids before I drifted off to sleep.

  ***

  “Brennan.” I felt someone shaking my leg lightly. “Wake up, Brennan.” Amelia’s voice was clear as day. She sounded frantic.

  I opened my eyes, yawning, and stretched my arms out. “What time is it?” I asked, still half-asleep. I rolled over to my side, and saw that it was a little after one. I had only slept for about an hour. No wonder I was still exhausted. I glanced over at Amelia, whose face was paler than our white walls. I sat up quickly, suddenly wide awake. “Amelia, what’s wrong?”

  “It . . . it’s . . .” She glanced down at her phone in her hand. “It’s Owen . . . there’s been an accident.”

  My heart stopped. I jumped out my bed and started pacing around the room. “What do you mean there’s been an accident? Is he okay?”

  “I-I don’t know,” she answered softly.

  My heart slammed to the pit of my stomach. I grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled on it. This couldn’t be happening. Not again. All the blood rushed to my head, and I felt light-headed. I stopped, holding on to the post at the end of my bed to steady myself.

  “Sam and Callen are already at the hospital,” she said, grabbing my attention.

  I snagged the cardigan at the end of my bed and pulled it over my tank top. “What are we waiting for?” I asked, heading toward the door. “We need to get to the hospital.”

  We walked as quickly as we could toward the hospital a few blocks away from campus. We debated briefly before leaving if we should just take the beast, but realized we’d get there faster if we just walked. We wouldn’t have to worry about parking or traffic.

  Sam and Callen were sitting in the lobby of the emergency room when we arrived. They stood up quickly, closing the distance between us.

  “Where is he?” I asked frantically. “Is he okay? How bad was it?”

  “He’s going to be fine,” Callen said. “Just a few bumps and bruises. Nothing serious.”

  “What happened?” I asked.

  Callen shifted his gaze toward Sam. I followed his gaze, meeting Sam’s eyes. His face dropped, and I saw the glistening of his eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck and released a shaky sigh.

  “It’s my fault,” Sam finally said. “After Callen hauled you away, he started trying to fight with anyone who got in his way. Eventually, I handed him my keys and told him to take a drive. To get some air and cool down. He made it down the block before driving up on the sidewalk.”

  I didn’t realize that all the air had been sucked out of my lungs until Sam finished talking.

  “How could you be so stupid?” I snapped. Sam eyes widened and lo
oked as if I had just slapped him across the face. “How could Owen be so stupid?”

  “Brennan!” Amelia said loudly. “Enough!”

  “No,” I said, refusing to look at her. My eyes were locked on to Sam. “People need to realize that drinking and driving have serious consequences. You shouldn’t have given him your keys.” I directed the last part at Sam.

  “He wasn’t even drunk,” Sam replied, trying to defend his actions.

  “Bullshit!” I shouted. The nurses at the check in booth glanced up from their paperwork. One of them held a finger to their lips, telling me to keep it down. “I smelled the whiskey on his breath. It only takes one drink! One drink, and boom!”

  “No need to freak out.” I heard Owen’s voice from behind me. My body froze, and my breathing hitched. “Nice to see you still care.”

  All my worry and fear jumped out the window at his words. I turned on my heels to face him, wanting nothing more than to slap him across the face. I stared at him, unable to believe the nonsense coming from his mouth.

  I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists at my side. Owen looked down at my hands, and a smile crept across his face. “Of course, I still care.”

  “Shocking.” He held up his arms, mocking me. What the hell was wrong with him? Was he still drunk?

  “Did anyone call the police?” Amelia asked, stepping next to me. Trying to change the subject.

  “Nah,” Owen answered casually, like it was perfectly okay to get behind the wheel of a car and drive onto the sidewalk. “Nothing happened. I hit the brakes, slamming my chest into the wheel, and had the wind knocked out of me. Bruised a couple of ribs, but I’ll survive.”

  There was something seriously wrong here. I looked at Sam, shaking my head in disbelief.

  “So, as you can see,” Owen spoke. I turned my attention back to him. “There’s nothing to concern yourself with.”

 

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