“Hey, Anna!” A familiar voice greeted me. I looked up and found Nat, looking happy and like the quintessential college student. School sweater, comfortable jogging pants, brightly-colored running shoes. Her hair had been tamed into two tiny buns to crown her head. I hadn’t thought her hair was long enough for that. It was sort of an adorable little girl style, but she made it look mature and preppy.
She wore glasses this morning, thick-framed and bright red. When she got to my table, she gripped the other chair that was the twin of the one I sat in, poised on either side of the small three foot wide table.
“You wear glasses,” I said absentmindedly, taking another bite of crunchy bacon.
“Normally I wear my contacts, but my eyes were all irritated yesterday. Maybe the smoke from the bar on Saturday night.” She sat down opposite of me.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” I pointed at my plate.
“I’ve never been much of a breakfast person,” she shrugged. “Though coffee would be good. Be right back.”
While she was gone, I voraciously finished my hot cereal and fruit. I was still savoring the last of the meat and orange juice when she came back and sat down.
“I can see you are a morning eater. And a pretty hefty one at that. Bacon does look good.” She eyeballed the two remaining pieces on my plate.
“Come on. A piece won’t kill you,” I commented, picking up the plate and pushing it towards her.
“If it makes you happy,” she laughed, grabbing it and munching down. “Well, it’s no Dad’s weekend Applewood smoked thick cut, but it’s not bad.”
“So you do eat breakfast,” I teased, waggling my eyebrows as if I’d caught her in a bigger lie than I had.
“Oh, at home I often do. Only because I’d never hear the end of it from my dad if I didn’t. ‘Most important meal of the day’,” she lowered her voice and tried to make it masculine. “Then dad will, like, point at a box of Wheaties and go ’If you don’t eat your breakfast, how can you be a champion, Natalie?’” Just like the other day, eating with her and her dad, I could tell that Nat wasn’t really annoyed by her father making sure she ate well.
“Your dad really loves you,” I sat down the final piece of bacon I’d been eating; suddenly my appetite was gone.
“Yeah. And I love him. Doesn’t mean he’s not annoying as all hell sometimes.” She finished chewing and then swallowed down a huge gulp of coffee. “Guess it’s time to jet. I really wish I’d been able to get all later classes.”
“Yeah? You seem like the picture-perfect morning person.” I stood, stretching a little and feeling my back tense up. It almost felt like I was getting my period, the way my back was tight and knotted and my stomach felt a bit queasy.
Or, it could be because you just ate your weight in oily meats. Touché, brain.
“I’m an early riser, but I like to run in the morning, chill a little, not be so rushed.”
“Not me. I’d much rather get everything over with early. Tomorrow I’ve got a seven AM.”
“God help you,” Nat stood up and brought her toss-away cup to her lips, tilting her head back to quickly chug the rest of her coffee. “See you later, okay? Unless we magically have a class together. I mean, it could happen. I’m just getting all my gen-ed stuff out of the way before I decide on anything. Dad texted me just this morning to ask if I’d decided. Said the Business program’s top notch and I could get my B.S. in that, then decide if I wanted to go for Law or something.”
“How’d you respond?” I started walking; we were going in the same direction—towards the opposite entrance of the cafeteria which faced some of the educational buildings versus the dormitories.
“Love you, Nat. Have a great first day at school.” She laughed. “He didn’t know quite how to respond. Texted ‘of course I hope you have a great first day, honey’.”
I was glad then that I didn’t have a cell phone, that I hadn’t woken up hoping someone would call or text to wish me a good first day. The sting of the thing was less when there was no way for the thing to actually happen.
Silas.
It had been two weeks since I’d run into Anna in the café. I’d been back half a dozen times since, hoping she’d magically be there. Bernie, uncharacteristically, hadn’t commented on my new frequency of patronage. I was grateful for his restraint.
“You checked your phone almost as much as me today,” Tanner commented as we walked to his car. For once, it was running properly. The mechanic had even made him a loose guarantee—if it broke down in under six months’ time, he’d make any necessary repairs for free. I knew the mechanic by reputation. I had no doubt Tanner would be towing his vehicle back to the guy’s shop in half that time, maybe even less.
“What?” I asked, having not been paying attention. Day shift today, so we were leaving while the sun was still shining. I think I preferred leaving at night. There was something about it that cloaked me, prepared me for the ‘off’ hours when I had all that time to think.
“You and your phone, man. You checked it constantly.” Tanner grinned then. “You’ve got a girl, don’t you?”
“What makes you think it’s a girl?” I didn’t look at him; a bird in the distance had caught my eye. It was a riot of bright blue caught in hunter green leaves. It went very still when it saw me. I wondered if we looked odd to it, while it looked lovely to us.
“A man then? As long as it makes you happy.” Tanner said it without judgement, though I’d never detailed my preferences or my past when it came to romance. I’d liked him from the start, and only grew fonder as he’d helped me through some of my darkest days.
I sighed, looked at him, and then admitted. “A woman. Barely a woman. God, she’s too damn young for me. She’s just started college, whole life a head of her. And it’s not a secret that I’ve been to hell and back. I show the wear and the fucking tear of a hard-bought life. But...”
“There’s something about her.” Tanner added in for me. It wasn’t a question, just a statement.
“I’m pretty sure I said something similar to you when you first started dating Laurie. Though, I followed it with something snide.” I stood next to the passenger door and waited for Tanner to hit the unlock button.
“It’s good for you, man. This is the kind of thing you need. You’re doing good. You’re making your way through life, you’re not regressing. But you’re not happy. You’re hollow.” Tanner continued standing by the driver’s door without unlocking the car. I was starting to get antsy. I’d told him about Anna, without revealing too many details, and that truth-telling was enough for me. “I freaking worry about you all the time, man. This is what you need.” He said the last bit with force, and I knew he believed what he was saying, deep down to the core of his being.
And every word he spoke made me want to race away from Anna, made me relieved that I’d not seen her again.
If I couldn’t be happy and stable on my own. If I lived life hollow...
That was on me. And I wouldn’t drag anyone else into it. Especially not hazel-eyed angel Anna.
“Are you listening, Silas?” Tanner pressed.
“Yeah, I’m listening.” I felt like all the joy had been pushed out of me. Squeezed like I was an orange in an antiquated juicer—the kind you have to push down on the fruit and hand crank. “You’ve sort of met her you know.”
Finally Tanner pressed the key fob and the lock popped up on my side. I opened the door quickly and sank down into the car, feeling somewhat grounded by the cushioning and the belt I pulled around me and clicked into place.
“What do you mean I’ve met her?” Tanner cranked the car and tossed his duffel into the backseat. “Pretty sure I’d remember meeting anyone you were sincerely interested in.”
“The girl that passed out at the bar a few weekends ago,” I tried to sound like it was unimportant. But just thinking of the bar, of seeing her for the first time, made my pulse quicken. I was stood on two worlds, one foot on each and they were threatening t
o separate. To pull me apart.
One planet was her. The promise of her. The promise of the change that might fill me.
The other planet was my solace. The quietude of a house filled with aloneness.
“Really? Christ, she is young,” his voice was teasing, but the words stung a bit nonetheless.
“Right. I know. You don’t have to rub that in. Made me feel downright ancient.” I leaned my head back against the chair rest and closed my eyes for a moment.
“Aww, come on, man. You’re not that old. A ten year gap and lower’s fine in my book. My own parents are fifteen years apart. You don’t choose who you love.” Tanner steered out of the hospital parking lot and we spent the rest of the drive in silence. Silence, except for our quick stop at a fast food joint for burgers and soda.
“Remember I’m off tomorrow,” Tanner said through his open window as I walked towards my house. I turned around.
“Shit. Totally forgot. Who am I working with?”
“Denny.” Tanner looked apologetic when he said it.
“Shit,” I muttered. “That’s going to make my Tuesday just wonderful.”
“Yeah, sorry man. Laurie really wants me there though.”
“At her doctor appointment?” I flexed my fingers around the brown paper bag of fast food.
“Yeah. Just a check to make sure she’s still free and clear.”
“Cancer’s a bitch.” I didn’t know what else to say. I mean, what do you say when someone talks about how sick they are, or how one of their loved ones has been or is sick? People get sick of the sympathetic words and gazes. Sometimes, just calling a spade a spade and giving illness the giant middle finger worked better than trying to be empathetic.
Tanner nodded. “See you Wednesday.”
“Be prepared for a Denny rant.” I replied, arching an eyebrow.
“Getting Denny stories secondhand beats the hell out of working a shift with him,” Tanner said, sticking in the knife and twisting it.
“You’re a mean motherfucker.” I grinned and waved him off. “Get your ass home to Laurie. Tell her I’ll be thinking about her tomorrow.”
“Will do,” Tanner said, already backing out of my drive and rolling up his window.
WHEN I GOT INSIDE, I tossed the burgers onto my kitchen island and plugged my phone into its charger. The battery was low. I could have let it die. I could have succumbed to that second planet pulling me away from her.
But the other rotating world was more magnetic, collecting asteroids of my heart fragments around it so that I could not deny its pull.
Halfway through my first burger, my phone pinged. I ignored it, assuming it was my mom. As I continued to eat the ‘maybes’ of it not being my mother ate away at me until I got up, leaving my growing-colder food behind.
I was prepared to text my mom back, tell her to stop pressing me to be something other than I was.
But it wasn’t her.
It was Anna.
And my heart didn’t race faster.
It stopped beating.
A: Hi. Silas, I don’t know if you remember me. It’s Anna?
She’d made the last a question. Like I could forget her. Like I could ever forget her.
Don’t be ridiculous.
I rewrote my message several times before sending.
Anna. Sure. Of course I remember you. What’s up?
A: I’m not feeling very well. I’d go to the school clinic, but I’m not comfortable there.
She sent another message before I could respond.
A: I know you’re a paramedic, so I thought maybe you’d have a recommendation?
The hospital’s emergency room is no good unless it’s something life-threatening. There are a few really good doctors around. What insurance do you have?
She didn’t respond for a long time. I fought the urge to write her back.
A: I don’t have any. I mean, just the school plan and I don’t think that covers much.
Can you tell me what’s wrong?
Again, the hesitation. The time between texts too long.
A: No.
Because you don’t know what’s wrong? That’s okay. It’s not your job to know. Can you tell me any symptoms? Are you dizzy? Feeling weak?
A: Dizzy. Nauseous. I’m throwing up all day and I don’t know if that’s normal.
Panic took hold of me, squeezing my chest.
No. That’s not normal. How long has this been going on?
Write, Anna. Come on.
She waited again. I could tell she didn’t want to write me again. I could just tell. I started typing, then erased it when I saw she was finally tapping out a response.
A: A few days.
I’m coming over there.
A: No. I’m sure it’s just food poisoning or something. That can last a while, can’t it?
Yes. But you should still be checked out.
A: No, really. I know I’m overreacting.
I’m coming over. What dorm are you in?
A: Seaton.
She didn’t elaborate. I knew I was pushing. I knew I was making her uncomfortable.
But I thought of Laurie. I thought of how the most ill people might not even know it until it’s too late.
That wasn’t going to be Anna.
Anna.
I was keeping up with my classes. That was good.
I’d aced my first unexpected quiz in Intro to Sociology. Also good.
Nat and I were hanging out a lot, studying together—though we shared no classes or curriculum. And that was good. The growing friendship freed me in a wonderful way.
But, God, I was sick all the time. I knew about morning sickness; I’d expected it, but this was ridiculous. It was all day sickness, no early morning toss your cookies and move on with your day.
For some reason, today had been terrible. The worst yet, the symptoms intensified.
Nat had noticed over the last few days; she’d tried to drag me off to the school clinic more than once. I’d waved her off after much convincing and been more careful to hide how ill I was feeling from then on. It had been going on for nearly two weeks now. Almost since the day I properly met Silas in the café.
Silas. My mind turned to him, as it often had these past weeks, and I looked across my room to the desk and the slip of receipt with his information written down. I’d wanted to email him several times, but I wasn’t brave enough. He had to have just given me his contact stuff out of kindness. There couldn’t have been any feelings beyond that.
That’s what I kept telling myself to keep from contacting him.
But maybe he could help. I could ask a few questions. I wouldn’t have to tell him everything.
I padded out of my room and down the hall toward Nat’s place. Her roommate had only worsened since that first day, and she was making every effort to convince the RA to let her move earlier than the deadline. She was going to request to stay with me. I wasn’t, truthfully, completely ready to give up my single, but I also couldn’t stand to see Nat so unhappy. And I’d met her roomie by now... she was pretty awful.
I knocked lightly on the door and waited for a few minutes. Luckily, it was Nat that answered. “Hey,” she said, smiling. “What’s up? Were we supposed to study together?” She glanced quickly back at the petite force of nature that was in control of the room and currently napping with a mask on and classical music playing quietly from a stereo next to her. “I’m keeping it really quiet at the moment so she can take her nap.” She made her point clear—her roomie had bullied her, yet again, into having a designated nap time—like this was a kindergarten classroom and teachers pulled out those plastic sleeping mats when it was time to midday relax.
I rolled my eyes and mouthed ‘sorry, what a bitch’. Then, out loud, I asked for what I needed. “Actually, I was wondering if I could borrow your phone for a few minutes? I need to text someone. Unless you don’t have unlimited or something. I don’t want to mess up your phone bill or anything.”
“L
ord, I’ve got unlimited everything. Dad coughed up for that the first time I ran our bill up sixty extra dollars in messages and data. Ask any time. Though, we really need to get you your own phone.” She tip-toed over to her bed, making a real show of it. I nearly laughed loudly, but I clamped my hand over my mouth just in time. Which was a good thing, because a wave of nausea accompanied the near-giggle.
“I can’t afford a phone,” I said, taking the smart phone with the bright purple case from her outstretched hand.
“Those pay-as-you-go deals have really improved. Some of them even offer free phones now.” Nat crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame. She was wearing the brightest shade of yellow possible, and it looked amazing on her. I envied her really. I was too short, barely tan despite having come from Arizona, and my chest were bug bites compared to hers.
“Maybe,” I felt uncomfortable, and I didn’t want to say that I basically was dirt poor again.
“No, I’m taking you to get one sometime soon. I need to be able to text you, child.” Nat winked, then leaned in and started whispering. “Though, when I jail break from this anal retentive stick-in-the-mud, I’ll be able to move in and chat you up all hours of the night.”
“Soon, hopefully,” I smiled, my hesitation at the prospect of going from a single to a double diminishing. I loved being around her.
“All right, get out of here before we actually disturb,” she started to turn around as she was speaking. I looked behind her at the same time. And we both found out that her roommate was sitting up, mask pulled down around her neck, staring daggers at us.
“Do you two mind?” she asked in a perturbed voice. “I’m trying to relax here.”
Nat turned back around all the way and it was her turn to mouth something. ‘Oh. My. God.’ “I’ll come get the phone from you in a bit, okay?”
Translation: it gives me an excuse to leave the room. Don’t you dare offer to bring it back to me.
“Okay.” I said as she closed the door. Our last exchange of looks was her sticking out her tongue and me going cross-eyed.
The Beat Between Us: A Rock Star Redemption Romance (The Heartbeat Series Book 1) Page 8
