Twisted Souls

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Twisted Souls Page 8

by L. L. Collins


  “Liane,” she puts her hand over mine. “You are the one in charge of your happiness. No matter what that letter says, it doesn’t have to change anything at all. You’ve had a week to do some soul searching and realize that your future is heading in another direction and that he did you a favor. So if you are sure about that decision, nothing on that piece of paper in front of you matters. Right?”

  I nod, my heart pounding. Why in the heck did he write me a letter? Didn’t he say everything he needed to say the night he took the shards of my heart and stabbed me with them? Snatching the folded up envelope, I run it to my room and shove it under my pillow. I refuse to allow him to be a part of this day. I won’t even look at the envelope to verify his name is on the return address. Not after the night Blake and I had. Speaking of Blake, I need him. Right now.

  I shower quickly, feeling sand in various places on my body as I wash. I grin as I remember the ways that the sand got there, my mind replaying it like a video. I wonder if Blake is awake, and hurry through dressing and doing my hair so I can go over to his condo.

  Taking the few steps to the next building and knocking on his door, I secretly hope that no one is there but him. And that he answers the door with little to no clothing on. I giggle softly to myself, still wanting to pinch myself to see if this is for real.

  “He’s not there,” a voice comes from above. I look up to see a girl about our age hanging over the balcony, her long blonde hair shielding most of her face. “You looking for Blake?” Am I looking for Blake? Uh, how does she know Blake?

  “Yes,” I answer, shielding my eyes so I can see her better. “How do you know him?” She looks a lot like… me. I watch as she bounds down the stairs, her barely there bikini giving me an up close vantage point of her flawless body. So maybe not exactly like me. I’d kill for that body.

  “I’m Jen,” she says. “And you’re Lane, right?”

  I grit my teeth. Who in the ever loving heck is this chick? “Liane,” I correct, forcing my lips to smile. I know I’ve never seen her here before.

  “Sorry,” she giggles, flipping her blonde hair over one shoulder. I fight not to roll my eyes. “You’re just as I imagined.”

  I stare at her for a moment, my blood pressure rising with each second that passes. “How do you know Blake, and how do you know he isn’t here?”

  “Oh, I met Blake here two years ago. My family owns the time share above his,” she indicates above us, where she had come from. “We just got here last night. I saw Blake down at the pool earlier. I just came from there to get us some lunch.”

  Get us some lunch? Blake is at the pool with Jen and now she’s getting him lunch? “He told me about you when we met. He talks about you all the time. I didn’t even need to see a picture when I saw you standing at his door. He described you to a tee. Would you like some lunch, too? It’s just cold cut sandwiches, chips, and sodas. And Blake made me promise to bring him some Oreos. They’re his favorite.” They’re his favorite. Like I don’t know him. Who is this girl and who does she think she is?

  I know I should have some manners and answer her, but my emotions are threatening to overtake me. After last night, all I’d wanted to do was be with Blake. But then I got the letter from Ronan and now this Jen is yapping on and on about how she knows Blake. So he had been spending time with her the last two summers. I wonder if he showed her the alcove where we were last night. Even I know I’m crossing the proverbial line, but there’s no stopping it. Not in the state I’m in right now.

  “No thanks,” I finally say. “It was nice to meet you. I’ll catch up with Blake later.” I turn, trying to hurry away before I break down completely.

  “He’s at the pool! I hope we get to hang out together! There’s a bunch of us down there.” I don’t answer, I just keep walking as fast as I can back to my condo. Slamming the door behind me, I’m relieved that my mom isn’t there anymore. I just can’t explain my ridiculous reaction to anyone right now.

  Flinging myself on my bed, I allow the tears to overtake me. Sticking my hands under my pillow, I feel the letter that I refused to acknowledge less than an hour ago. What in the world could Ronan want that he didn’t already tell me? I roll over, looking out at the water and the kids running up and down the beach as the tears roll. I’m fully aware that I’m acting ridiculous. I could no more fault Blake for making friends here than he could for me dating Ronan. He isn’t ridiculing me and having a tantrum over the fact that I had a boyfriend until a week ago, is he? But here I am, crying into my pillow because he had occupied his last two summers with that beautiful blonde girl, Jen. And she was of course nice to me, too. Never mind the fact that she acted like a bimbo and got my name wrong.

  Before I can chicken out, I rip the folded envelope open, my hands shaking. Whatever it says, I need to get it over with so I can move on. His familiar writing makes my heart clench. No. I can’t feel sad over him anymore. He’s made his choice.

  Liane,

  I hope you don’t mind that I found your address in Florida. I knew there was no other way to contact you, since no one has any way to call you there. Well, maybe Gretchen does but I doubt she would give it to me. I hope you are okay, and I’m writing to tell you how very sorry I am. I know I didn’t handle things the right way, but I do and always will love you. We’re soul mates, Lia. I really believe in my heart that we are meant to be together. When you get back next week, please call me. I need to make this right with you, and I know I royally screwed up. I was feeling the pressure from all sides and figured that letting go of you would be the easiest way to make everyone happy. Except myself. I’ve been miserable since you drove away, and am even more miserable now that I can’t drive five minutes to see your beautiful face. I’ll hope and pray that you’ll give me time to make this right with you.

  I love you, Liane Kelly. Someday you’ll be Liane Collier. Mark my words.

  Forever Yours,

  Ronan.

  Well, shoot. Why does he have to be nice to me now? It’s much easier to be mad and hurt and get over it when he’s being rude than when he’s being sweet and loving. So he’s sorry. And I was right; it had been his family putting pressure on him to let me go. I got it, in a way. They had big dreams for him. What parent didn’t? I know my parents have been concerned about me being so serious so young with Ronan, but had never put pressure on me to break it off. They just aren’t that kind of parents. But I know plenty of parents that are, Ronan’s included. I often wonder if he even wants to be an accountant like his dad and grandfather, or if it’s just expected of him. I’m rather sure I know the answer to that already.

  My mind reeling, I realize that it doesn’t change for me the way I feel for Blake. While I’m glad that maybe Ronan and I can stay friends once I go back home and explain it all to him, I know that for me, it’s Blake. Reading those words from Ronan make me feel content, but it doesn’t make me want to run back to Kentucky and into his arms. What it does make me want to do is run to Blake and throw my arms around him and tell him how much I love him.

  I yawn and cuddle into my pillow, thinking about last night, or this morning if you want to be technical, my eyelids fluttering closed just as I lose grip on the letter and it falls to the floor. I’m just conscious enough to think that is right where it belongs before sleep claims me.

  I LEAN MY head back on the chaise lounge around the pool, my mind a million miles away. Well, not really. My mind is a few hundred yards away on that beach, reliving every single second of the night with the love of my life. I had run into her dad coming out of her condo about nine this morning. He had been going golfing, and I couldn’t sleep anymore, despite only sleeping about three hours. What I’d wanted—needed—was to see her. But he had told me she was passed out, not even waking when he went in to see if she wanted to drive the golf cart. That’s one of her favorite things to do with him, and I know she’ll be disappointed that she missed it.

  So I had decided to let my beauty sleep and I came out here instea
d. That’s when I saw Jen, her brother Jake, and the group of friends that they knew here. Jen had been my lifesaver, along with Shaun and Eric, over the last two summers. Though I had to admit that seeing her and knowing Liane is here this time made my stomach clench. Jen is a reminder of not having Liane, and I don’t want the two parts of my life to intersect like that. But it seems that I’m not going to stop it, so it’s time to embrace it.

  Jen knows all about Liane. She really is a nice girl, and has been someone that listened and helped occupy my time while I missed Liane. Jen knows that there is never going to be anything serious between us, and she’s okay with it. That doesn’t mean that I want Liane to know that Jen had been that kind of distraction. Not that it’s any different than her with Ronan, but I still want to avoid that conversation if at all possible. Jen had been one of many ‘distractions’ for me over the last four years. I’m not proud of it, but it stops now. I have everything I want now and have no voids to fill.

  “Here you go,” Jen appears before me, casting a shadow over my face. She holds a plate of two sandwiches, potato chips, a sleeve of Oreos, and a can of soda. Ever since I met her, she always wants to feed me. She says it’s because she’s used to feeding Jake and her dad.

  “Thanks,” I say, my stomach growling in appreciation. The clock by the spa says it’s after two already. I wonder when Liane will get her sleepy self out of bed. I miss her already. I devour the first sandwich before Jen and Jake sit down and start their lunches.

  “So I met Liane,” Jen says. I freeze. Her words had been muffled because she had been chewing, but I heard them clear as day. She met Liane. “She’s beautiful, Blake. Just like I pictured her. I can see why you like her so much.”

  I swallow, the bread all of a sudden seeming like I’m swallowing sand. Gulping a drink of my soda, the bubbles assault my nose and I start coughing. “W-where is she?”

  Jen watches me for a moment. “You okay?” I nod. “She was at your door. I was going up to make lunch and saw her. I knew right away who she was.”

  “Did you talk to her?” Please say no. Please say no.

  “Yes! She’s super sweet.”

  My stomach plummets into my feet. I haven’t even told Liane that Jen exists at all. Never mind that I talked to Jen about Liane all the time. She doesn’t know that. Or maybe she does. “What did you say?”

  “I told her that you were at the pool and I was going in to make lunch. I invited her out, but she said she would see you later. I told her that I knew who she was because you had talked about her so much to me.” I breathe out. Maybe she had helped a little bit.

  “Did she ask you how you knew me?”

  Jen nods. “Yep. I told her we met here two years ago. She seemed surprised about that. How’s your sandwich?”

  I stand up, almost knocking over my plate and drink. “I’ll be back.” Before she can respond, I run full throttle to Liane’s condo. This isn’t good; I just know it.

  When I knock several times and don’t get an answer, I slam my head against the glass of the door. What am I going to do? The key. My parents have a key to their condo, and vice versa. Running to our condo, I find the key and run back, my chest heaving like I had just run five miles. I hope she’s here, please help her to be here.

  The living room and kitchen are empty, and there isn’t a sound in the condo. I stride to the door of her bedroom, willing her to be in there. Pushing open the door, I see her all curled up in a ball on her bed, her hands under her face, fast asleep. I stop short, watching her. My heart squeezes at the sight of her. I perch on her bed, watching as she breathes. God, she’s so beautiful.

  Leaning down, I press my lips gently to her forehead, then her cheek. I need to lie with her, that’s all there is to it. I stand, and my foot slides on something on the floor. Bending down, I see a piece of paper half under the bed. Picking it up, my brow furrows as I see the handwriting addressed to Liane. Who would write her a letter here? Before I can even finish the thought, my eyes find the name at the bottom. Ronan. Of course. I clench the fist that isn’t holding the paper and look back at Liane. She’s probably wrecked. This is the thing about knowing someone your entire life: you know them almost as well as they know themselves.

  I scan the letter, feeling my blood pressure rise with each word. Oh so now he’s sorry. Now he isn’t being a pansy and is admitting he did something wrong. And he wants to see her when she returns home. I look back at her, wondering what she was thinking before she passed out. I’m sure seeing Jen and then receiving this letter made her feel uneasy about everything. All I can hope for is that she remembers what it felt like last night in each other’s arms.

  I drop the letter on her nightstand, wishing I could’ve found that first and destroyed it. Not because I don’t want her with him (well, I don’t), but because she shouldn’t have to be put through this from him. He broke her heart and now here he is, a week later, retracting everything he said. And for what? Because his parents said that’s what he should do? Please. Someone needs a backbone. Of course, my parents love Liane like she’s their daughter. But even if they didn’t, there isn’t anything in the world that would make me break her heart.

  Slipping off my shoes, I slide under the covers behind her, pressing my body into hers as closely as I can. She’s so warm, cuddled up next to me. I’m a little chilly from lying at the pool and then entering the cool air-conditioned condo. I run my hand through her long hair, then down her back. She stirs, moving back against me even though she isn’t conscious. I love it. Propping myself up on an elbow, I watch her face. It seems like she’s waking up, and I want nothing more than to plant a kiss right on those plush lips of hers. But I’m unsure what she had been thinking and feeling before she went to sleep, so I don’t.

  She turns, resting her head on my chest now as her body presses into mine. I try hard to think of anything else I can that will keep me from reacting to her, but it doesn’t work. When it comes to her, all bets are off. “Blake?” her sleepy voice breaks through my thoughts.

  “Hey,” I answer as she tips her head back to look into my eyes. “You’re tired, huh? Someone kept you up late last night.”

  She smiles, stretching. I try not to look as her shirt goes up, exposing her flat stomach, but I lose. She’s so darn sexy. “Yeah. I should really talk to that guy about keeping me up so late. It’s wrecked my whole day.” She nudges me and I know she’s teasing. “What time is it, anyway?”

  “It’s almost three,” I answer. “Want to come to the pool with me? The sun will give you some energy. That and I’ll bring you a coke.” The girl has to have her caffeine.

  A frown crosses her face and she sits up, looking away from me. Here we go. “Li, look at me.” When she still doesn’t move, I go around the bed and kneel in front of her. “You met Jen.” Her eyes get wide but she still says nothing. I see the tears shimmering in her eyes before she looks out at the water so I can’t see them. “Baby. Listen to me. I know I didn’t tell you about her, but I promise she’s nothing for you to worry about. We’re friends. That’s all.”

  “You told her about me,” she says finally.

  “Yes. I tell everyone about you,” I wink. “We met two years ago…”

  “Did you sleep with her?” She drops the bomb and watches me, effectively knocking the breath out of me. I take her hands, knowing she isn’t going to like the answer. “You know what? Don’t answer that. I have no right.”

  “You do have a right,” I reply.

  She shakes her head. “No, I don’t. What you did before me doesn’t matter, Blake. I’m sorry. There’s no double standard here. I have a past and so do you.”

  “Speaking of that,” I begin. I don’t want to bring it up, but I can’t help it. I need to know that the letter didn’t change anything for her. She swings her eyes back to mine, waiting. “I saw the letter.”

  “Letter?” She turns and sees it on her nightstand. “Oh. The letter.”

  “I’m sorry. I stepped on it whil
e you were sleeping and had no idea what it was. But, I have to know. Does that change anything between us?”

  Liane reaches over and takes the paper in her hand. I watch as she tears it into small pieces and throws it like confetti over us. “What letter?”

  I can’t help it; I laugh. This girl never ceases to amaze me. “Are you sure?”

  She leans up and takes my lips with hers, and I forget that there was ever a paper from her ex-boyfriend threatening to ruin our fragile, newborn relationship.

  IN THE DAYS since Liane and I were together on the beach, we’ve spent almost every second together. While it’s been the best time of my life, I’ve started to panic. Not to her, of course. But as the days fly by, spending time with our families, alone, with Shaun and Eric, and even with Jen and her friends (Liane said she actually does like her after she tries to forget that Jen was my distraction from her), I try to memorize everything about Liane: her hand in mine, her thumb caressing my palm, the way she kisses me as we make love (and we’ve found many a creative place for that), and the comfort I feel whenever she’s near. It’s no secret that I’m head over heels in love with her. But as our days together dwindle, I find that I can’t even sleep. We need to talk about what happens after this fairy tale two weeks comes to a conclusion and she goes back to Kentucky and I go back to South Carolina. It’s not that we live that far apart, really. I would make the drive there in a heartbeat. But when we don’t talk about anything, it makes me jump to conclusions I don’t like. I know that I need her like I need my next breath. I’ve contemplated researching schools near her when I get back home that might have my program. My parents may think I’m crazy for wanting to change my whole plan for her, but they’ll never say so. I think they’re afraid I might go over the edge if they argue with me about it.

 

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