by S. L. Scott
“I haven’t talked to Mallory about the holidays. It’s too soon for that. Her birthday is coming up… fuck, listen to us,” I say, shaking my head again, but for a completely different reason. I want to be disgusted, but the smile that crosses my face when I think of Mallory makes me perfectly content to sit here and hand over my man-card. Yeah, I’m in love. So fucking what!
“Hey.”
When I look up I see the younger Kalei family member standing there. All three of us immediately stand up, the chairs scraping across the floor.
Murphy crosses his arms and says, “What do you want?”
I don’t really know these cousins of Noah because they were young when Noah and I were best friends, so his name escapes me. He shoves his hands in his pockets, giving us a clear indication that he doesn’t plan to use them. The other guy comes up behind him and stands with his arms crossed over his chest and a slight scowl that’s aimed at Murphy. Guess he’s holding a grudge against Murphy for kicking his ass that night. To be expected.
“Yeah, so, we wanted you to know that we didn’t know about Lani and the whole heart thing.” The younger one pauses and looks back over his shoulder. When his cousin gives him a nod of approval, he turns back. “We only knew what Uncle Kekoa and Noah told us. I mean I can’t say we weren’t happy that he got some rich haole’s money, but—”
“What he’s trying to say,” the other cousin interrupts, stepping forward. “We’re sorry. And for the record, Noah was an asshole about the whole thing, but he hasn’t received a dime. That money had some weird stipulation about not touching it for five years or something. So it shouldn’t be hard for them to return it.”
I fucking hate talking about Lani and all that shit, and I can’t help but tense when the con the Kaleis tried to pull is brought up, even in an apology. I take a moment to digest what he’s saying before finally wanting this behind me once and for all. I don’t want to live in that negative headspace anymore. With a nod of acceptance, I shake both of their hands, not using my words but instead using the grip that bonds us to let them know that I’m not going to harbor any ill will against them.
Right before they turn to leave the restaurant, the older one says, “By the way, Noah lost his first three competitions. One more and he will be out of the tour and dropped by his sponsors.”
I’ve never reveled in someone else’s loss or failures before, but somehow Noah being sent packing after the BS he put me through seems fitting.
When I land in bed that night, my thoughts are racing. I can’t lie to myself and pretend I’m not a little nervous about New York because I am. But, more than that, Mallory is ever present. Grabbing her pillow, I take in her scent—inhaling deeply—needing to feel her presence to find the calm I need to sleep. Because as soon as I step on that plane tomorrow, my life has a new beginning and now that I’m back in the driver’s seat, a new ending.
CHAPTER 21
~ Mallory ~
My dreams are lucid, Evan weighing heavy on my heart and mind. Our connection stretches between us as I enter the security line, leaving Evan back at the entrance to the airport. I try not to look back, but how can I not? It’s Evan, and he’s always worth a second glance, a third… Fuck! I look back six times, but don’t allow myself to cry again. I do smile though, my expression forced upward despite the pain so I don’t worry him.
He remains grounded in the same spot when I round the corner. I quickly sneak a peek, hiding myself from his view, and yet he remains standing as if this isn’t happening, as if I’m not leaving him. Maybe forever, which makes my heart ache when I think like that, so I push that feeling down and gather hope in my heart and hope it’s just for now.
After returning to my hiding spot on the other side of the wall, I take a deep breath and close my eyes. My eyes pop open as I gasp for air, suddenly unable to breathe. Is this a panic attack? My breath stutters and my throat tugs for air. I grab my throat and squeeze my eyes shut tight, trying to calm myself enough to take another breath. As air slowly fills my lungs again, I look around the corner. Evan is gone, not walking away, but gone—into thin air. My chest tightens, then snaps, the string bonding our hearts broken.
I’m bounced awake, startled, and like in my dream, I gasp for air.
“Oh my God, Mal. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Sunny is sitting on the bed next to me, panic on her face.
Irritated from being woken up like that, I grumble, “Sunny, go away.” I pull the covers over my face and feign sleep.
“Get up, chicky, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover. We’re going shopping. I’ve missed the mall and affordable clothes. Hawaii is too damn expensive on my budget.”
“Pleeeaaaassseee let me sleep another hour. I’ll humor you and go wherever you want if I can just get a little more sleep.”
“Mallory, we worked all summer and then I lost you to Evan. I finally get you all to myself and you’re getting your ass out of this bed right now,” she demands. I don’t even have to open my eyes to know she already has her hands on her hips and is tapping her foot. Okay, I can hear her tapping her foot, but I know she does that and didn’t need to see it to know she was doing it now.
I sit up and look at her. “Didn’t you just catch a redeye home? Shouldn’t you be tired?”
She shrugs. “I slept on the flight. Wide awake and ready to hit the stores now.”
Protesting will get me nowhere, so I relent and get up.
Within the hour, I’m showered, dressed, stuffed full of eggs, courtesy of my mom, and already standing alone in the middle of a department store. Sunny has abandoned me for the dressing room. I hang up the shirt that I’ve been holding for twenty minutes and pull out my phone to text Evan.
I know you’re not up yet, but wanted to be the first one to tell you good morning. Good Morning, babe.
I don’t expect to hear from him in the next four hours because it’s still early here much less in Hawaii. So I head over to the dressing rooms and take a seat outside Sunny’s room.
Lucky for me, she offers to feed me at lunchtime, but only for fifteen minutes because we’re off again to hit the back-to-school sales.
My phone buzzes with a text from Evan just after three in the afternoon.
This bed is lonely without you, baby. My arms are a tad lonely, too.
I quickly type back. Only a tad?
He responds. Maybe more than a tad. A lot. I miss you, beautiful.
Sunny sneaks up behind me and surprises me. “Ready to go?”
“Yes, so ready.”
Call me later. Shopping with Sunny and going out tonight. I miss you and those arms around me very much. I love you.
Five shopping bags later, she drops me off with the threat of picking me up in exactly one hour to go out.
I have dinner with only my mom since my dad has meetings. We talk about Evan and I show her some pictures on my phone. I also show her the ring, and although I know she wants to say something about which finger I’ve chosen to wear the ring, she tells me how handsome he is instead and hugs me. It feels good to share this part of my life with her.
Sunny breaks up the bonding moment by letting herself into the house. She insists we have to leave so we’re at the club by eight to avoid a cover charge. As I stand from the table, she gives me two thumbs up, approving of my tight jeans and fitted top. It feels weird to be dressing in jeans and heels again since I didn’t wear them in Hawaii.
We find a parking spot after a few minutes of cruising and walk to the club down the street. The doorman stamps our hands after we show ID and we go inside. There’s a warm glow to the room, loud music, and lots of people considering it’s still early in the night. We’re waved over by some high school buddies that spot us. Within a few minutes, we’ve got a beer in hand and kick back in the booth.
It starts feeling like a reunion of sorts in here tonight with all the familiar faces. A few guys I recognize come over and chat me up, telling me how much I’ve changed since high school and how good I’m l
ooking. The backhanded compliments don’t sit well with me since I didn’t think I was ugly back in then. It’s easy to see their shallow ways now. I wasn’t good enough in high school, but now that I’ve filled out a little more, gotten rid of the braces, and grown into my ‘assets’, they’re all over me.
Uninterested. The feeling identified quickly when you look at the faces of your high school classmates and realize they didn’t really mean for you to talk about your summer although they asked. It was polite, surface chit chat they were seeking. They lose interest about a minute into that conversation, which makes me inwardly giggle. It’s not like we keep in touch… there might be a reason. Several beers into the night, Evan calls and I head outside to hear him instead of the loud bar chatter and music. We don’t talk long because he’s heading out to meet Zach and Murphy, but it’s good to hear his voice.
Tired from the travels and shopping, we don’t stay much longer and go home.
Lying in bed, loneliness settles in. I miss Evan and though it’s only been two days, it feels like ages. All my fears begin to surface as regret shows up. Maybe I should live with him like he suggested? I land on this thought for a moment. Maybe I shot down his idea too quickly? Maybe, I should reconsider it, really consider it?
At the time he mentioned living together, I thought it was ridiculous. Not the idea of living with him per se, but more the complications it would bring us at such an early stage in our relationship. Two months is not enough time to make such a big commitment. On top of that, I’ve already signed a lease with Sarah. I can’t leave a lifelong friend high and dry like that. That’s not the kind of friend I want to be. Evan got that. He didn’t like it, but he got it. Hell, I didn’t like it, but it’s not like we can’t stay with each other if he does move to Colorado.
I give myself a reprieve from that inward argument and try to sleep. It takes more than an hour before I fall asleep, but when I do, I dream of blue eyes and surfboards, sex wax and sunsets. A little after four, I wake up sweating, my insides tight and tingling, a realization that my body misses Evan as much as my mind does.
CHAPTER 22
~ Mallory ~
Evan left for New York and today I find myself packing my bags to return back to school in the morning. I have lunch with Sunny before saying our goodbyes since she has to leave to catch her flight back to Oahu.
After dinner with my parents, I return to my room to webcam Evan one last time before I need to pack my laptop. After rebooting my computer twice, I still can’t seem to get the camera to come on and a black screen is all that’s showing. Frustrated, I call him and we end up talking for an hour the old-fashioned way—over the phone.
With every minute that passes, I can feel the change in him, the change the city is causing him. He’s been preparing for the board meeting that determines the fate of his family’s business and the pressure is starting to affect him. The weight has been placed squarely on his shoulders to carry this burden.
Concern fills me. The main reason is because if the board retires his father Evan will feel like a failure. I try to reassure him that if they don’t, he’ll be the hero, but it’s a lot to ask of anyone much less a twenty-three year old. So I try to be what he needs, someone to listen, but the separation feels like a great wall of divide between us.
When I lay down in bed, I pull the covers up to my chin and roll onto my side, holding the phone close to my ear. When I turn off my lamp, I listen to him breathing almost like he’s here next to me in the dark of my room.
“You should go to bed, Evan. It’s late there.”
“I should, but I don’t sleep well.”
“Because you miss me?”
“You know I miss you. It’s weird here. This used to be my home and now it feels foreign. I think I got used to Hawaii… and you.”
“I only slept okay the first night because I talked to you. Let’s stay on and maybe we’ll get tired enough to fall asleep.”
“Okay.”
His breath deepens, and he rustles around on the other end of the line. I yawn and we settle down into a soft spoken conversation of sappy-ness until I don’t remember anything but dreams of him with his arms around me. I feel loved and I hope he feels the same.
My mom makes the forty-five minute drive with me, her SUV filled to the brim with my crap. My dad is following in my Corolla behind us.
“Are you sure you want to take more stuff up there? You don’t have a big closet in that tiny apartment,” she says, glancing over at me then back to the road.
“I have room in my dresser. I’m also going to get rid of some stuff I never wear.”
With her eyes straight ahead, she tries to sound nonchalant. “Is Evan going to visit you at school?”
“Oh, um. I’m not sure. He said he would, but I don’t want to put any added stress on him. He has enough of that as it is.”
“It’s not stressful to be with the one you love, honey.”
I look out the window and exhale a deep sigh. “I don’t want him to feel like I’m demanding anything from him. Everyone else is doing that—”
“That’s a part of growing up, Mallory. People have expectations and start relying on you. He’s going to be working and the business will rely on him. Why are you worried?”
“I’m worried by what this job and Manhattan will do to him. He didn’t want to go and I know he feels forced to be there.”
“He’s not being forced.” Her tone is sharp. “He’s doing what’s needed of him. He’s being responsible. I think it shows a lot about the kind of person he is. He’s a grown man and can take care of himself. You, my dear daughter need to focus on your studies.”
I rest my head against the window, watching as we pass by the landmarks that signal we’re getting close. Evan is a grown up. That just seems all wrong in my mind though. Not because I think he’s immature. Actually, I feel quite the opposite, but that if he’s a grown up and taking care of his responsibilities, what does that make me? Am I all grown up now, too? At what age do you officially ‘grow up?’
My heart feels heavy in my chest wondering if Evan will choose New York after having a taste of it again. Maybe he’ll choose to run the family business. He won’t need a degree to work there. His name is on the company stationary. These thoughts hit me, like a slap across the face, and I realize that there is a distinct possibility that I may never see him again.
I close my eyes and shake my head not wanting to let these twisted thoughts seep in. I knew if they did I would be headed for heartbreak and I’m not willing to go there… yet. I need to believe to get by. I believe in us and our love and will hold as tight as I can to that romantic notion.
My first impression of him echoes inside my head as we continue our drive in silence. He told me not to rely on him, but to trust him. He told me not to rely on him, but to trust him. He told me not to rely on him, but to trust him.
But at the airport, he assured me that I can rely on him. Even without him confirming that I could, an epiphany hits me. I already do rely on him, in so many ways.
He changed his modus operandi for me. His whole identity was wrapped up in that spiel he gave me at the diner that first day and yet he didn’t use his tactics on me that night or any other night. I know in that moment that I will most definitely see him again even if I have to make it happen somehow.
He was ready for change, and this summer gave him the perfect storm to finally get his ass in gear and fight for what he loves and what he loves seems to be me.
I’m smiling to myself when I feel my mom’s hand on my arm.
“Mal, I can really see how in love you are with Evan.” She pauses, looking back at the road, returning her hand to the steering wheel. “I hope it works out the way you want.”
“I do too.”
My mom helps me unload the car and leaves right after hoping to beat rush hour traffic through Denver. Sarah’s not home yet, so I start unpacking. I unpack my iPod docking station first and get some music playing. That help
s pass the time and distract my thoughts from all the ‘what-if’s’ that seem to be playing out in my head lately.
Two hours on the job and my room is looking the way I want. I stand back to admire, but a knock on the door interrupts me appreciating my work. I know Sarah isn’t due to arrive yet, so I stand up and shake out my cramped legs and peek through the peephole. I see a delivery man. Standing there, I’m unsure if I should answer or not until he says, “Delivery for Miss Mallory Wray.”
I unlock the door and open it wide. After signing for the package, I scurry back into the living room to open the large cardboard box. It’s heavy, but not unmanageable.
Grabbing my car key from the hook I hung up earlier next to the front door, I slice open the taped box. Styrofoam popcorn flies out as I lift the flaps, revealing a brand new laptop. I stare at it a minute, unsure if I should take it out or not. I close the flaps and look at the label again. Yes, it’s addressed to me, but it only says the computer company’s name as the return address, not who sent it. I lift the flaps open again and more of the packing popcorn comes out, landing on the floor and my lap.
I dig out the packing slip and read the message:
Dear Mallory,
I know you’re going to say you can’t accept this, but before you call me to say that, you should know that this laptop is more for me than you. I can’t go without seeing that beautiful face for too long and since your webcam is broken, I thought it only fitting that I replace it. It just so happens to come with a state of the art laptop attached to said camera.
Accept it, Mallory. It’s not a big deal, so stop debating whether you’re going to accept it or not and take it.
