by Nicky Shanks
He shrugs. “I stayed with her because I loved her—don’t mistake that for weakness.”
“I don’t love Julie,” I say.
“Don’t you?” He smiles at me. “Get some rest, kid—you have a long drive back tomorrow and you’re going to have some time to think about important things.”
“I love you, Dad.” My voice shakes. “I never got to tell you that—”
He waves me off. “It’s in the past, kid. I’m just proud of the man you turned out to be, despite the person that had to finish raising you. You’re a good kid.”
***
He’s gone before I can beg him to stay. I would’ve stayed in that dream with him forever if I was allowed to, but the brightness of the morning sun seeps through my closed eyelids, waking me. I roll over and expect Julie to be there. I missed her there, snuggled up next to my body, trying to keep warm from the cool lake air. By now, at the cabin, the fireplace would have sizzled out and I’d have tucked her body into mine and held her there.
I hear the front door to the apartment open and softly shut. My heart skips a beat. I know it isn’t Julie, but I hop up and burst into the hallway anyway, nearly giving Ms. Atchley a heart attack when she sees me. “Oh, Jesus, boy!” She gasps and clutches her chest. “When did you get back?”
I know my face falls because her eyes soften like I’m a hurt baby bird. “I came back on a fluke; I’ll be leaving again shortly, Ms. Atchley.” My voice is cold. “Are you here to feed the fish?”
She keeps eyeing me and nods her head slowly. “I do it in the mornings and around my dinnertime. Why did you travel the long way back for just one night?”
There isn’t much I can get past Ms. Atchley, even though she’s about two feet shorter than I am and walks with the brightest pink walking cane I could find her for Christmas last year. When she walks around the city by herself, people can see her better and not run her over. She limps toward me and tugs on my hand, leading me to the breakfast bar and sitting me on one of the stools, her eyes never leaving mine. “Tell me all about it, sweetheart.”
I cradle my head in my hands and lose my tongue. “I lost Julie, I lost her,” I keep repeating as she rubs my back and I cry once again. My grandfather’s probably rolling in his grave. “She doesn’t want me anymore and she’s right—our lives together are too complicated, even in the week I’ve known her.”
Ms. Atchley gasps and then shakes her head. “You’re crying over a girl you met a week ago?”
“I know, right?” I laugh through my tears. “You would really like her though, Ms. Atchley, you would. She’s really sweet and kind and would probably like doing all the old lady things you do.”
She chuckles. “Old lady things? Like what? Please, elaborate.”
I frown at her. “I didn’t mean any disrespect, I’m sorry.”
The old woman hands me a tissue and hobbles her way to the fish tank in the living room, where she uncaps the food and sprinkles some into the water. I watch the bright-colored fish swim toward the top and greet her, nibbling some food and going back to its mundane little life. “What is her name? Julie, you say?”
I nod. “Julie Remington.”
She smiles at me. “You must love this girl if you care this much.”
“Why do people keep saying that?” I wipe my face off with my sleeve. “I’m not in love with her.”
Mrs. Atchley laughs in my face.
In. My. Face.
“Oh, boy, I have been around for a very long time, somewhere close to seventy.” She rolls her eyes. “And in my life I have learned a lot. Some things were common sense and some things were hard to learn, but love isn’t something that you just know how to do. Love is something that grows and blossoms, and some people aren’t even blessed with knowing love until it’s too late.” She sits down next to me and pats my leg comfortingly. “What do you love about her?”
I scoff. “Again with the ‘love’ word.”
She growls at me in disapproval. “Humor me. What do you love about the girl?”
I think about this for a moment. I never really thought about the word “love” with Julie—I just knew after I stopped fighting it so much that I just had to have her. I feel like I’m addicted to her, like no one else matters and really, no one else does matter but her. Still, I try and answer Ms. Atchley’s question without embarrassing myself too much. Before I can, though, she pats my leg again and stands up to leave.
“Think about it and be truthful to yourself, boy. The only one that can destroy you, is you. Let me know when I might walk in on something I don’t want to see.” She winks at me and leaves me alone before I can even mutter the words “thank you” to her.
Be truthful to myself.
I know I’m not in love with Julie—truth.
I do love some things that she does—truth.
I love the way her honey blonde hair falls down her shoulders in waves of thin strands, tickling her collarbone and inviting me to touch her.
I love how she says my actual name and not some silly ass nickname people made up for me.
I love the way she can be so quiet but her presence still demands attention.
I love the patience she has with me and the way her small hand tucks into mine. I love that she lets me touch her whenever I want—or at least used to.
I love how she doesn’t care what I can give her or what I do for her—she wants to spend time with me because of me, not my money.
I love how slow she makes life seem. She quiets the storm around me and I don’t have to be someone I don’t want to be with her.
I love her smile. And her laugh. And her lips.
I shake my head and head back to the bedroom, confused and very sick to my stomach. I feel like someone has just gut punched me a million times and it’s hard to even change my clothes. I brush hair out of my eyes and look in the mirror, frowning at myself.
My father and Mrs. Atchley are right.
I am in love with her.
And I honestly don’t know how I feel about that.
Chapter Fourteen
Julie
I hear hushed voices talking in the room next to me at the hotel: Madrie and her husband. They let me stay in one of the rooms for free for the night. They didn’t seem surprised when I phoned them last night; they even offered to pick me up and help me almost immediately.
I almost cried when I talked to Oliver late last night, but I held my own and kept it in, even when he said my name with all of that hurt wrapped around it. I had to hang up on him before I cracked. This entire week has been so unreal that it hurts my brain to even think about what has happened. I slept with someone I hardly know—let’s start with that. My parents weren’t the greatest people, but I just know my Aunt Shelley is rolling over in her grave knowing that I did something like that. I mean, that isn’t me.
“You want breakfast?” I hear Madrie’s husband, Paul, ask me from outside my closed door. They’ve given me one of the lower-class rooms, which isn’t even lower class at all with the biggest flat-screen TV I have ever seen, the expensive furniture, and oh yeah…
The bed.
The. Bed.
I hardly wanted to get up and I’m sure that if Oliver were here and he had it his way, we wouldn’t get up. It was just that comfortable. We were just that comfortable. Paul knocks when I don’t answer him, but doesn’t try to come in. “Miss Julie? Breakfast?”
I don’t want to keep him waiting and be rude, so I pad across the floor and open the door to greet him with a fake “good morning” smile. I extend my hands and take the tray from him and he nods before walking back down the hallway and out of sight.
I leave the door open as I turn to put the tray down. “Waffles and strawberries, huh?” I hear Brandon say, and I nearly drop the tray as I whirl around to make sure it isn’t him, but of course, he leans in the doorframe of my room.
“What are you doing here?” I squeak and put the tray down on a table. I really miss Oliver now; my stomach starts
to drop and I scold myself for not staying put at the cabin with people I’m safe with.
Brandon holds up his hands in surrender. “I come in peace. I’ve been staying here since your boyfriend sent me on my way.”
“Why?” I slowly ask.
“For you, of course.” He doesn’t move, trying to calm me down before I freak out. “Come on, Jules, just hear me out, okay? Look.” He places his hands in his pockets. “I come in peace, really.” My stomach grumbles and I really, really wish Oliver were here already. Brandon tries to nonchalantly look around me into the room to see if Oliver is in there, but gives up when I leap toward him and start to close the door in his face. “Wait.” He pushes the door back toward me a little bit. “Can we just talk?” The look in his eye is so intense that I can’t refuse him, so I stomp toward the bed and don’t say another word as he comes into the room. He shuts the door behind him with a deafening click.
I reach for the coffee Paul brought me.
French vanilla cappuccino.
Brandon looks nervous. “So, where’s your boyfriend?”
I scoff into my cup. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
He nods in relief and throws me a sly smile. “He sure fought for you like he was—maybe someone should tell him that.”
I find myself annoyed as I glare at him. “His name is Oliver and I’m not really sure why you even care.”
Brandon laughs. “Yeah, I know who he is. Oliver Jackson. You might want to get checked out when you get back to the city.” I want to slap his face off, but in all truth, he is right. Oliver is a bit of a playboy—Nora has told me stories about him before this whole trip even happened. I wonder how she knows him, but that isn’t really relevant to me now.
I watch as Brandon joins me on the bed, sitting dangerously close to me, but I don’t think quickly enough to move. “I miss you, Jules. I miss our life together. I miss living with you and waking up with you—”
“You should have thought about that before jumping into bed with Rachel.” I snort. “Didn’t seem like you missed me too much then.”
He takes my hand. “I messed up, okay? I was an idiot then, but I’m better now. I want to be better. You remember what we used to be like, right? We were good in the beginning. We can find our way back there. I can be a better person for you.”
I can’t handle the pressure he’s putting on me. It sounds like he thinks I’m stupid, like I actually think things can be different. Maybe a month ago I would have gone running back to him, but I’m a different person now. Oliver has shown me that I don’t have to be scared to be next to someone. Someone could want to be around me without hurting me. I’d like to say I’m more mature, refined, and just absolutely against anything Brandon stands for.
I still don’t hate him.
But I don’t love him, either.
“You should go,” I whisper as he gets closer to me and takes my hands from my lap. “Oliver is coming to get me.” The way his chestnut hair slicks back toward his neck sickens me. I take a quick look at what our time apart has done to him; his skin is pale and his eyes don’t have the gold flecks in the muddy brown irises anymore. Instead, he’s been replaced by a shell of a person—someone I don’t even recognize.
Brandon smiles at me and touches my cheek. “Well, I’m here now—doesn’t that count for anything?” He kisses the tip of my nose. “I thought you said he isn’t your boyfriend…sure sounds like something a boyfriend would do. I would know.”
“H-He’s not,” I stutter. “P-Please just go.”
Brandon presses his lips to mine and for a moment, it feels good and familiar, like time has stood still and nothing had ever changed between us or gone sour. Before I can squeeze a thought out of my head to stop him, there’s a knock on the door and it opens. Paul, Madrie, and Oliver stand in the doorway, but by the time the door had opened, Brandon had pulled away and now sits next to me with a huge grin on his face. Oliver looks sick as he storms into the room, glaring at the two of us. He looks like he’s ready to kill Brandon.
“I drove three hours for this?” he snaps at me. “For you to show me this?” The panic in his voice saddens me, and I see tears forming in the corners of his eyes as they dart back and forth, first toward Brandon and then toward me.
I say nothing.
“Julie,” he demands. “Answer me.”
My heart breaks down almost instantly. I try to get a grip on my breathing, but I start to hyperventilate and Madrie pushes past Oliver to get to me. “Everyone, get out,” she barks to all the men in the room. “She’s not well enough to hear this fighting.”
Brandon smirks. “Kissing me will do that to any girl.”
Oliver whirls around to look at him, his skin so red I think he’ll burst. “You need to fucking leave before I do something I can be put on trial for, you understand?”
“She wants me here, right, Jules?”
“Trust me, she doesn’t. Like I said, leave.”
Paul chimes in. “I think both of you should leave before I call the police, okay?”
The world closes in on me as Madrie pats my back and I take a deep breath in and let it out. “Everyone just shut up!” I scream at the top of my lungs. “Everyone needs to leave.” When they all look at me in confusion, I scream, “Now!” Paul and Madrie scurry out of the room first.
Brandon and Oliver look at each other and have a silent standoff, waiting for me to turn my back so they can brawl again. “Oliver, you stay,” I say. “Brandon, you leave.” Brandon opens his mouth to refuse, but I glare at him so hard that I think I see fear in his eyes and he quickly leaves Oliver and me in the room, alone.
“Julie?” Oliver says in the smallest voice he could muster. “Are you okay?”
I nod. “I’m fine. What the hell is your problem?”
He cocks his head; he’s taken aback by my sudden boldness. “My prob—what the hell do you mean, my problem? You’re the one who ran away and you’re the one in a hotel room with your ex, waiting for me to pick you up. So, my problem—” His voice grows sad as he walks to me. I hold my palm out against his chest to warn him to keep his distance. “—is you.”
I scoff and stick my bottom lip out in a small pout. “Me? Hardly.”
“Ugh!” he screams into the air. “Let’s just go home.”
I cross my arms. “I don’t want to go back to the cabin. I want to go back to Rockford.”
“I mean home, to Rockford.”
“I live in an opposite world from you.” I swallow, but my throat is dry and my voice cracks. “I think I should just call my brother; he can come pick me up. I’m sure he would love to know that Brandon trailed me here.”
Oliver isn’t having it. “No, I’m already here. I came back for you—what else can I do to get you to trust me?”
I slowly take his hand in mine and his eyes soften, but I know he isn’t going to like what I have to say. “Can you just take me home? To my home?” He nods and squeezes my hand, tugging on it gently so I would follow him out of the room. Brandon’s eyes light up when he sees me, but when he notices Oliver holding my hand and leading me away, they narrow with anger. “You’re leaving with him?” he growls. “I can’t believe this, Jules. You hardly know him! What about me?”
Oliver stops and tugs me behind him. “What about you? You hurt her in so many more ways than one. Did you think I’d let her leave with you?” I grip the back of his shirt tightly. The warmth of his anger reaches my fingertips but it doesn’t scare me.
I gasp a little as Brandon moves toward us, his eyes full of desperation and stretching his neck so he can try and see me. “Jules, please, can I just drive you home? I’ll take you wherever you want to go. I just want to get you alone for a little bit.”
I instantly feel scared, and I can immediately feel Oliver’s body tense and his temper rise. “Get the hell away from her,” he says in a weird tone. “Don’t make me kick your ass again.”
Brandon scoffs. “Dude, try it. I’ll fight for her too.”
I feel safe.
“I’m not fighting for her,” Oliver says smoothly to his brand-new nemesis. “I’m fighting for us.” He pulls me past Brandon, whose jaw is open wide with shock; he knows he’s just been severely defeated. I can see him quickly trying to find the words to redeem himself, but Oliver has already pulled me out of the lobby and placed me in the front seat of his Jeep before Brandon can even pull himself together. I watch him run out the front doors after us as we speed out of the parking lot. Brandon throws his hands up, no doubt cursing to the chilly lake wind.
I can feel Oliver seething next to me as he slows down a little once we’re far enough away from the hotel and Brandon. His hand finds mine and he pulls it into his lap, caressing my fingers with his thumb but saying nothing to me. He gently pulls my fingers to his lips and kisses them before slowing the Jeep down enough that he can look over at me, his eyes dark and full of sadness. “Are you okay?” he finally asks, and I try my hardest not to melt inside. “I’m sorry I acted like that back there—he just pisses me off so bad.”
I smile at him without realizing what I’m doing. “It’s okay. I’m actually thankful that you showed up.” I figure I’d better not tell him that Brandon kissed me, mainly because I don’t want him seeing red and running the car off the road with us still inside of it. I can tell that the selfishness of me leaving and giving no explanation has taken a toll on him. Maybe he tried to sleep last night like he promised, but his tired eyes tell a different story. “Oliver, I—”
He cuts me off but doesn’t let go of my hand. “You don’t have to explain,” he says in a soft voice and looks over at me briefly. “I just want you to be happy.”
My heart skips a few beats.
“I just want you to know that it’s nothing you’ve done, okay?” I say to him, but I know it doesn’t matter. I’ve ripped his heart into shreds for no good reason.
