“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I sat up, my heart racing, threatening to escape my chest. “Why?!” I shouted even though I was by myself, sitting in my bed, alone in my room where no one could hear me.
I sat back, resting on my hands as I peered at the ceiling. It felt so fucking real … the dream, reliving that night with her … with me. God, it was such an amazing night. For a moment I wanted to remember … remember the emotion that had driven our lust, our passion for one another, but I shook my head, pushing it away from my body. Fucking Christ! I couldn’t remember. I couldn’t feel. I couldn’t imagine reliving that night … what it meant. It was too painful.
I chucked my pillow across the room. I thought I was done with this shit. I thought I’d cleared her from my head. I met someone great. I met Nova. She was perfect. We clicked. I liked her. So why the fuck was I still dreaming about Amelia? Why the fuck did I still care? And why the fuck did my heart hurt so much right now that I could cry? I didn’t cry. I didn’t get upset. I had never felt this shitty—until her. Even if I tried to forget her, she just kept coming back; she was fucking haunting me in the best worst way, but it wasn’t enough. Loving Amelia and only having her in my dreams wasn’t enough!
“AHHH!” I fucking hated this. I hated her. I hated what she did to me … “Christ!” I just wanted to be over her, to forget about that night, that weekend. She was just a girl. Maybe she wasn’t at first, but she was now. Once she left and wouldn’t answer my calls, that’s all that she became. A girl I fucked and hung out with for one fucking weekend. That’s all she could be to me. That’s all that she was.
I stood from my bed and walked, heavy-footed, to the bathroom. I didn’t know what to do with myself, all I knew was that I was pissed. My cellphone started buzzing on my dresser, but I ignored it. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I didn’t want anyone to know about the demon woman that haunted me, that stole my being in one weekend and ripped it to shreds like I was a ragdoll. I didn’t want anyone to know what a pussy I’d become because of Amelia. I was worn … tired of it all.
I whipped the shower curtain open and turned the water on, waiting until it was piping hot before getting in. I needed a different kind of pain to take over. I needed something equally traitorous to consume my body, to make me forget about the pain that Amelia created. I stood there, my teeth clenched and my hands in fists as the water poured over my body. It hurt. I could almost feel my skin swelling from the burn of the liquid. In some ways it was psychotic, but I didn’t care; not right then at least. It pumped my body with adrenaline, with power, with something I couldn’t get when the memory of Amelia was controlling me. I felt alive; finally in control of my own self.
When the water began to cool, the hot water tank empty, I lathered my skin with soap, the softness of the bubbles relieving some of the pain. It stung, but I welcomed it. I was wounded, but in a good way. It helped. Focusing my energy and everything I had on a different pain helped; it was almost therapeutic.
I never said I was normal. I knew I handled struggles, sadness, and pain in a different way than most. I took care of myself in ways that people would think was crazy, but it was what worked for me and my fucked up life. For the moment, I was free of Amelia; free of any kind of ache.
The bar was closed on Sundays. It was an executive decision that I made when I first opened up, and usually was a day that I gave to myself, but today I was sharing it with someone else. Nova and I had plans to meet up at Central Park. The weather called for sun, but seasonably cooler weather, so we figured we’d spend it outside in one of the only areas in Manhattan with grass, a sense of normalcy (from what I was used to in Jersey) and maybe somewhat of a small town feel. Somewhat. I guess that’s kind of stretching it, but it was an open area with trees and grass, and that was saying a lot for New York City.
Since the park was large, we decided to meet in front of FAO Schwartz, which was just across the street. My lips immediately turned up into a smile when I saw Nova standing there, watching a group of street performers dancing to a hip hop mix. I’d seen them perform before; they were quite good, but all I could focus on was Nova, tall and beautiful with her auburn hair in loose curls hanging down over her shoulders. She wasn’t anything that I usually went for her, but for some reason I was drawn to her. I didn’t know what it was, but it was something, and my dad always said that something was better than nothing. Obviously something with Nova was worth a shot.
“Hey,” I said, coming up beside her and resting my hand on her lower back before gently pecking her cheek.
Her eyes immediately brightened at my kind gesture and a familiar flush bloomed in her cheeks. “Hi.” Her smile was big as her eyes skimmed over my face. She was checking me out and I liked it.
I licked my lips, feeling the dryness forming. I had the urge to kiss her, but I didn’t. It was strange. I kind of felt standoffish with her today; nothing like yesterday. There wasn’t anything wrong. Everything seemed right. I liked her. I was attracted to her. I wanted to kiss her, but I just couldn’t. It was almost like I felt the need to ask, which was all sorts of fucked up crazy—not how I operated at all. Maybe I just was respecting her space. We had only just met yesterday, after all. Or maybe it was because of this morning … because of the dream. No, I’m done thinking about that. I’m here to have a good time.
“So what’s on the agenda?” Her focus came back to my eyes, looking amusedly intrigued.
“Um, yeah, about that …” I looked at her, dumbfounded, knowing damn well that I had no plan in store for today. I wasn’t that guy. I didn’t date. I didn’t do romance. Deciding to meet up at the park was as good as it pretty much got with me.
She laughed, catching onto my lack of itinerary.
“Sorry,” I apologized, genuinely honest. “I’m not the hearts and flowers kind of guy. I’m not used to this dating stuff.” I tried to laugh it off, but really, it was the truth. I didn’t know I had to plan out a whole fucking day. What happened to just shooting the shit and walking around until we found something to do? That’s what Amelia and I did.
Nova laughed it off, but I could see a little disappointment in her stare and hear the fakeness in her tone of laughter. That probably wasn’t the best thing to say to a girl on the second date, but whatever, it’s who I was. There was only a second of awkward silence before I spoke again, trying to redeem my charming qualities.
“Wanna take one of those carriage rides?” I asked, pointing to the horses lined up along the side of the park with carriages hooked on to them.
Her real smile returned, making me inwardly sigh with relief. I couldn’t believe that I cared if I redeemed myself, but I did like Nova. It was a little strange that today wasn’t going as effortlessly as yesterday—I expected everything to roll just as easily. Maybe it was the lack of alcohol, but whatever. I was willing to put in a little effort to get the ball rolling again between us. I had fun with her yesterday; it couldn’t have been all alcohol driving the attraction. And I needed this. I needed a distraction. Nova was a good diversion … an attempt of normalcy.
“Yeah, sure. I’d never been on one!” she borderline squealed. “This will be so much fun!
I was back in the game. Thank fucking God.
The carriage ride went as eventful as one could imagine, full of forced conversation complete with some dude in a circus suit sitting in front of us, ostensibly just driving the carriage, though I know that asshole was listening and probably laughing at our lame attempt at a date. I tried. I really did, but the day with Nova was striking out. I just wasn’t feeling it. She was good to look at it, but holy fuck, she was like talking to wall today. Everything was just off—I felt off—the whole fucking day felt off.
I felt bad. I could tell that she was feeling it too. Her hands were fidgeting and her smile was forced. We’d both tried to bring something new up to talk about, but then found ourselves just looking out into space two seconds after in silence. It was dreadful. Maybe it was just me, which was understandable si
nce my day was shittastic from the moment I woke this morning. I should’ve figured it wouldn’t get much better.
“I’m sorry,” Nova said as we walked over to the ice cream truck sitting on the side of the road—it was another one of my sugar-coated ideas, no pun intended.
What the hell did she have to be sorry about?
“I had a shitty night last night and it put me in a shitty mood today,” she explained. “It’s not you, really. I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to make today fun, and I’m being a total bitch.”
My eyebrows scrunched and my face went blank. I couldn’t fucking believe it. Here I was, being the rotten one with a million and one issues, not feeling the day because of the fucked-up lunatic I was this morning, and she’s apologizing, blaming the less-than-stellar afternoon together on herself.
I rubbed my face, still trying to wrap my head around the whole thing. “Hey! No, don’t worry about it. I had a shitty morning, so I thought it was me ruining everything.”
She chuckled at my confession. I wasn’t about to throw the day on her shoulders; I wasn’t that much of a douchebag.
“Does it have anything to do with an ex?” she questioned with an eyebrow raised. She was biting down her lower lip, seeming almost nervous to ask.
I snorted. “I guess you can say that.”
Her grin returned. “That’s usually what makes me miserable,” she commiserated.
“I’m assuming an ex shit on your parade last night?” It probably wasn’t the best date subject to talk about, but who the fuck cares? And she brought it up, so why the hell not continue down the shitty road of people that suck? It was apparently something we had in common. I’m not sure I could constitute Amelia as an ex, but I was going with it.
She snickered, giving a less-than-enthused smirk, but one that clearly answered my question. “Yup!”
“Do you want me to beat him? Drop kick him with my stellar ninja moves?”
That made her laugh, bringing back the pink cheeks and smile. “Stellar ninja moves?” she questioned, amused.
“You obviously didn’t do enough digging on me, Ms. Detective.”
“Apparently not.”
“Honey, I’m kickass. I stalked the Ninja Turtles until I was like, ten.”
Her intrigued look turned amused and she chuckled slightly.
“Hey now, don’t underestimate the skills one can learn from a rat. Splinter was badass!”
“I really can’t believe you remember all of this,” she covered her mouth to suppress her giggles, “and all their names!”
“Oh, whatever. Don’t play dumb with me—everyone frickin’ knows about the Ninja Turtles. I don’t care if you’re a chick—you used to watch it, and you loved it. April O’Neil was no ninja, but she was still kicked ass.” I looked at her with a knowing smile, waiting for her to reply.
She rolled her eyes, giving in. “Okay. I may have watched them when I was younger …”
“Ha! I knew it!”
“Don’t get too excited, there, cowboy. I have no clue what their names were and I really only watched because I had a brother.”
“Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. The turtles were iconic.”
“Anyway …” she said, trying to switch topics as we moved to the front of the line.
I let her order first.
“I’ll just have a small vanilla on a cone, please,” she told the guy standing inside.
“Boring,” I nonchalantly said beside her, fake coughing into my elbow.
Her eyes sprang open, shocked at my accusation. “Dipped in cherry, please,” she added, raising her eyebrows at me with a smirk.
I snickered, loving that the little attitude at the end of her order was directed towards me. She was cute when she was annoyed; I liked pushing her buttons.
“Nice choice,” I said quietly, giving her a wink before stepping up next to place my order. “I’ll just have a small vanilla, thanks.”
“What?!” She punched me in the arm.
I held my bicep where she just hit me, acting like I was wounded. “What? I like vanilla ice cream.”
“Oh, but when I ordered it, I was boring,” Nova exaggerated.
“Hey,” I held up my hands in defense, “no one ever said it was wrong. I happen to like boring ice cream. You’re the one that felt it needed a little spice.” I pointed to her cone, which was starting to fall apart—one of the reasons why I never got those dips—too goddamn messy. “How’s that working for you, by the way?”
She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hold back the amusement in her grin. “You’re an ass!”
I wiggled my eyebrows with a devilish grin. “And you love it, sweetheart!”
It was just after four when my phone rang with none other than Kayla’s name on the screen. I’d already talked to her last night about how the café date went with Nova, and by the excitement in her tone, I’d say she was pretty fucking stoked that we were spending today with each other, too.
“We’re still together, but can’t fucking stand another minute with her,” I greeted, walking beside Nova down into the subway. “I think I’m actually going to ditch her in a few minutes, so be prepared if she calls you pissed.”
Nova looked at me, amused, shaking her head and trying to contain her laugh.
“Merrick Drake!!!” Kayla exclaimed. “You better be fucking kidding!”
I couldn’t stay serious, hearing the obvious rage in her voice. I wasn’t kidding when I said Kayla had a bite to her, though it was more like a mean-ass rottweiler growl right then. I chuckled, clueing her into my obvious lie.
“You’re an ass, Drake,” she scolded, but with relief in her tone.
“So I’ve been told.” I winked at Nova.
“Anyway, jerk, where are you guys? Miles and I were going to do dinner and then something fun after, but wanted it to be a couples’ thing.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Not really.”
“So what are we doing tonight then, Ms. Kayla?” I rolled my eyes, but wasn’t a bit annoyed. I hated her fucking pouty look, and I knew she was making it even though we were talking on the phone. She knew how much I hated it, too. There was no give and take with Kayla; if she wanted you to do something, you did it. That’s the only place she got annoying, really, when she showed her true girl colors, demanding her way. I mean, here I was on a date with someone that Kayla insisted I meet, but apparently I enjoyed having a chick tell me what to do every so often, so I just learned to go with the flow—it was much easier for me, and then she was happy. I imagined she and Miles had a similar unspoken agreement—do what the woman says, and no one gets hurt.
“Ut-oh,” Nova commented next to me, obviously knowing Kayla’s ways.
I gave Nova an exaggerated nod, agreeing to her comment, but didn’t dare respond, because …
“Whatever! I heard her,” Kayla said right on cue, making me snicker, because that’s exactly why. I wasn’t kidding about her rottweiler instincts … attack! “It’ll be fun,” she eased, “I promise.”
“Uh huh,” I replied, but not with confidence.
“Just be at the penthouse at six,” she practically demanded before hanging up in true Kayla fashion. At times, I really did question the possibility of her having multiple personalities. Damn, could her tone change with a flip of the switch. I imagine that couldn’t be all that easy. Good thing she was a sweetass friend. I really do love her, truly. Busting her balls and getting her all riled up was just way more fun; egging her on was just natural to do.
I brought Nova back to her condo after I talked with Kayla so she could get ready. With Kayla and Miles, it was almost never a t-shirt and jeans kind of night; I was going to have to find something to wear, too.
Nova lived down in SoHo, not long by subway from Times Square, where Kayla and I lived. Her place was as swanky as I expected—security/doorman at the door, marble everywhere, and statues probably costing more than my bar and apartment combined. If I’d forgotten how
wealthy Nova was while hanging out, it all came back in full force on my face when I stepped inside. I didn’t go past the front door. I couldn’t. It felt weird being inside, like people were staring at me. I could never be one of them. I had no problems being friends with them as long as they weren’t douches about it, but living amongst them, being privileged with EVERYTHING … No, that wasn’t me. I was good with what I had and didn’t have, but walking in there with just a t-shirt and jeans, I got a couple glances, some “who the hell is this tool?” looks. Not that I cared, the pompous assholes could suck a nut for all I cared, I just didn’t like the vibe I got there. It wasn’t my thing.
“I’ll meet you back here in an hour or so,” I told her before leaning in and kissing her cheek. We hadn’t gotten back to that kiss we had yesterday; it didn’t feel right. I’ll openly admit that that was probably alcohol-induced. I liked Nova—I did—I just didn’t feel it yet, the need to move forward. For now, she was a cool chick to look at and hang out with, which was really all I needed.
I texted Kayla once I got back my apartment.
Me: Where the fuck are we going tonight?
I hated surprises. I hated not knowing what was ahead of me. Blame my shit childhood for that. I never knew what I was going to find when I stopped home to check on my mom every day after school. Sometimes it would be business as usual, her slumped on the couch watching soap operas, giving me a slight head nod when I walked past, but then there were those times I found her face down and passed out on the kitchen floor with a needle, a prescription pill container, booze, or all three sitting beside her. It’s sad that at only eleven or twelve I knew what to do, how to check to see if she was still alive. The 911 operator didn’t even answer with the formal greeting from calling so many times—they knew the emergency. It was more like, “Hi, Merrick, is everything okay? What are we looking at tonight?” All I had to say was, “Yeah, just a detox night,” or “probably should pump her stomach this time.” I didn’t even have to wait for them to get there, either—just had to leave the front door unlocked when I left. I never hung around long enough to meet the ambulance. I wasn’t that invested.
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