Just Roll With It: a Just Us novel

by Niki Hager

  Better Together

  The Best of Me- The Starting Line

  Rigbee

  They've been making me journal. They say it helps with PTSD. I should make Roman try it then.

  August 2015

  Every moment I have had with Roman has shaped me.

  When I had him, I learned how to live.

  When I had him, I learned how to accept consequences and to take responsibility for my actions.

  When I didn't have him anymore, I had to learn to do that all over again.

  I now know I can exist without him. (P.S. I realized the last part before the whole him saving my life from a Rottweiler attack thing so don't take me too literal.)

  It's better this way.

  I'm better now.

  It made me ready for when he was ready to fully have me.

  Roman has woken up every night with a night terror. I've been off my pills for a little while now so I've been giving him my remaining sleeping pills. He asks for them and says he won't sleep without them, but I keep trying to tell him about the pills making the nightmares worse.

  He tells me he'll be fine; he tells me they will eventually go away the way mine did. They will, but it makes me sad he has to go through this too. When I told him how I felt, he gave me a slight smile and told me it's better this way because we're going through it together this time.

  Our nights are restless and our days are somber, but we both have strength, and together we have more. We'll not only survive, but we will do it with more passion than most, because now we know what's at stake.

  Life is a series of contradictions. Irony in every aspect. It is so simple and utterly complex. It is agonizingly joyful. Most importantly, life is ideally infinite, and realistically far too brief. I don't take a single moment I have the privilege to experience for granted anymore, be it what it may. I will continue to love Roman, and I will love hard. Can't stop. Won't stop.

  Can't Stop, Won't Stop

  We Can Never Break Up- Alkaline Trio

  Rigbee

  It's been four months since the incident responsible for bringing Roman and I back together. Neither one of us has had a nightmare in weeks. I haven't had a panic attack at all since, well, since before it even happened.

  It's funny, really, it took a life threatening event to convince my body not to panic over the small things. It's not easy, however, I work my ass off trying to keep my body from giving in. I still get the feelings.

  My first step in making progress was realizing I was not okay with being stuck where I was at. I gave myself permission to get better.

  I also finished the semester on the Dean's list. I finished. I'm all done. We walk for the graduation ceremony next Saturday. I say we because Roman and I planned our classes in a way to let us graduate together. He's been taking this "doing everything together" thing very seriously.

  "So, that's why you call me Bug, huh? Why didn't you just tell me. I might've remembered."

  "Babe, you don't remember now, you wouldn't have remembered."

  "So. Maybe I wouldn't have thought your nickname for me was so weird."

  "Did you think it was weird anyway?"

  "No, but what if—"

  "I should've told you, all right. It's not a big deal, though. You only really met me once. You never saw me afterward, and I didn't exactly have the balls to get your attention back then."

  "You didn't have the balls now."

  "Do so!"

  "Naw, boy, naw. I totally asked you out first."

  "To coffee, at break, with other people. Not the same."

  "Well, I made the first move. You might not have ever talked to me if I hadn't."

  "I feel like we've had his fight before, and I totally would have."

  "How can you be so sure?"

  "Having to look at you in class everyday was consuming every aspect of my life, it was only a matter of time before I would've cracked."

  "Like an egg," I state, as I bop him on the nose with a finger.

  "You're such a dork. The weird stuff that swirls around up inside that head of yours."

  His comment jogs a memory of mine, and I smile to myself.

  "What?"

  "Nothing. Just something my grandpa said."

  He cups my chin with one hand and gently turns my face so we are eye to eye.

  "Your grandpa's words are certainly not nothing," he says, guttural and serious.

  "You're right, it was something. It was actually the very last words he ever spoke to me."

  "Wow. You never told me what that was," he says, his voice thick, before squaring his jaw and taking a breath, preparing himself for what's sure to be a heavyhearted sentiment.

  "He looked at me and said—" I pause for suspense "—‘Rigbee, men are dipshits’."

  Roman's eyes widen, but he remains silent, not knowing what kind of reaction he's supposed to have, and not knowing where I'm going with this.

  "Then he told me your head was in your ass." I giggle softly at the memory. "But, your heart was in the right spot at least."

  "You’re kidding? No shit?" He sounds surprised and thoughtful. Appearing almost proud when the corners of his mouth slightly turn up. He shakes his head softly, shrugs, and grunts out a, "Huh."

  "Not kidding. Those really were his last words to me," I tell him.

  "He was right."

  "Yes. He was."

  Roman

  Today is graduation day. Today is the day. I have to admit I'm more goddamn nervous than I thought I'd be. I look ridiculous in this robe. It's got to go. As soon as we get to Rigbee's parents’ for the after party, I'm ripping it off. It's hot as shit too. My hands are so sweaty and I keep wiping them on the material, making me look about as anxious as I am.

  When I notice the various flags meant to mark separate seating sections, I realize we won't be together for the ceremony. We're in different degree schools.

  I put my hands back in my pockets and sigh in grief. Or relief. Everything is fine, I concede, because now we can focus on the whole graduating thing then.

  Rigbee's section is called up to get their diplomas first. This is the part I was waiting for. Watching her walk up with a big smile on her face, knowing how proud she feels right at this very moment. I couldn't give a crap about this part. I didn't feel the insistent need to show everyone I'm done with school now.

  I didn't walk in our high school ceremony because I was out of state for paintball, so my parents were excited when I told them how I planned on participating this time. They were, without fail, shocked. They didn't think I would, and I wouldn't have, but given the situation with Rigbee and all, it just worked out. So I'll give them this. Let them be the proud parents and fawn all over me. Just for today.

  This part, though, this part is the gold. She walks back toward her seat, but pauses to look at me first. She puckers her lips and gives me an air kiss and then winks at me before she sits back down. Sharing her moment makes having to wear this god-awful cap and gown worth it.

  They call my subject, and everyone in the row stands up, myself included. I take my hands out of my pockets and I walk. I walk for my parents, I walk for Bug, and I have to admit, a small part walks for me too.

  When I hear Rigbee shout and whistle for me, I can't help but give everyone the smile they want. Then, of course, both my parents and her mom join in the clapping. This isn't so bad, I suppose.

  I catch Rigbee on her way up to her old bedroom. She's going up to change her clothes. I'm about ready to tear this gown off, so I use it as an excuse to go up with her. When we walk into the room, she closes the door behind us. My hands shake, and I fumble with the slick fabric when I yank the robe to get it off.

  She is much more graceful when she does it, smoothly slipping out like she would some silk piece of lingerie. I go still, standing there with my hand in my pocket, and watch. When she's done, she glances my way. When I don't do anything but stare, she simply smiles and starts to walk past me out the door. I reach my hand out
and grab her arm to stop her. Pulling her back toward me, my eyes never leave hers once.

  She's not confused in the slightest by this. She thinks I'm trying to take the moment to steal a kiss or cop a feel, so she waits for me expectantly. Still without taking my eyes from hers, I kneel down to my knee.

  Her smile slips as her expression transforms into an incredulous excitement. The shock of it all only lasts a moment before her whole face lights up and an even bigger smile appears. I finally pull out the box I've been carrying in my pocket throughout the entire graduation ceremony, and I open it.

  It's her grandma's wedding ring set, the one her grandpa proposed with. I asked her mom about it a while ago. She grabbed Joe and they went and got it out and plopped it in my hand right then, no questions asked.

  I tried to give it back, at first, because I was only just beginning to think about it and not quite ready. But she pushed it at me and threatened my life, then she told me I needed the time to get it sized anyway. So, I did. Now with her grandpa gone, I really hope it'll mean as much as I think it will.

  "Rigbee, will you marry me?"

  She doesn't say yes. She doesn't say anything, but she's crying and smiling and then she jumps up on me. Her arms fold around my neck with her legs around my waist, I hug her hips tight to keep her there. I sigh in relief and rest my chin on her shoulder. There's no way this reaction means no.

  A sudden noise in the hall strangles the silence and we're brought back to reality right before the door gets thrown open. Damn, I knew I should've locked the door. Rigbee's mom pops her head in.

  "What's going on in herrr … oh, I see. Well, I'll just let you two get back to it then." She tip-toes backward, pulling the door shut as she goes.

  Nosey woman knew I was going to ask today, everyone did. But, a moment like this just wouldn't feel the same without her nosey ass barging in on us. I still won't stop smiling. Rigbee doesn't let go of her hold on me, either, she only squeezes tighter. I lightly set her down so I can look at her. I take her all in, raking my gaze over her in amazement, if only to admire the fact that she's mine. I'm the lucky bastard that gets to keep her.

  "Bug, I will love you forever. Can't stop."

  "Won't stop," she whispers, before she plants her lips on mine.

  Rigbee

  We decided on the month of June to have the wedding. When I say we, I mean me. Because, let's be real, Roman didn't give a shit what month we got married in as long as he was the man I was saying I do to. If it were up to him, he would've whisked me away to Vegas or somewhere the same night. I would have been fine with anything, but, a mushy girly part of me did want the whole wedding thing. The dress and party, the whole sha- bang.

  We lit a candle for Grandpa Joe during the reception. It wasn't the same without him, but having a flame burn in his honor was special. Each time I caught a glimpse of it throughout the night, I was reminded of how happy this would have made him.

  Our honeymoon took place in California. We rented a car and drove Pacific Coast Highway all the way down the coast until we couldn't go any further. Until we couldn't go any further without seeing signs for border control, anyway.

  When the sign came to view, we looked at each other and laughed. No way were we willingly going through that again. Instead, we turned around and caught the coast from the other side. We drove by the ocean for three weeks.

  We're home now, and we're excited for this new life as husband and wife. Roman starts his new job this Monday and we're out at this hole in the wall bar celebrating. For real, though, hole in the walls are the best kind of bars. This one has a stage for local bands to play on certain nights. Tonight is one of them, so we choose a table with a good view of it.

  "I'll be right back, I'm gonna go get us some drinks." He leans in to kiss my cheek, but stops short. Instead, he sticks his tongue out and places a sloppy wet lick on the side of my face as a joke.

  "Eeeeew." I grab a napkin and start wiping off his spit.

  He smirks playfully and heads to the bar. He will never fully outgrow the silly and weird paintball boy part of him. I wouldn't want him to.

  As I wipe the spit off, I spot someone out of the corner of my eye. Someone I recognize stands over by the stage. Nate. When he looks up from unpacking his guitar, he notices me too. He does this small awkward wave thing while he decides whether or not to approach me. I have less hard feelings about the whole situation now, but I can tell he still feels bad about it. He makes his decision and starts walking to my table.

  "Hi, Bee."

  "Hey there," I respond cheerfully. "You're with the band, huh?"

  "Yep. Sure am. We got signed last week. We're actually … um … moving to Tennessee tomorrow." He rubs the back of his neck, looking embarrassed by this for some reason.

  "Wow, how great! Really, Nate, I'm so happy for you."

  "Yeah? Thanks. So, what's new? I mean, I haven't talked to you in so long. How are you?"

  "I'm great!" I exclaim. Maybe it's the whole honeymoon phase thing coming over me, but even the tone of my voice sounds happier than before.

  "Really?"

  "Really, I am. Do you remember one day at school, we were sitting outside before class and I pointed at a random guy, and told you how I was going to marry him someday?"

  He chuckles at the memory. "Yeah, I actually do."

  Roman arrives at the table then, with the two whiskey sodas in hand.

  "Well, I married him."

  Just The End of Rigbee and Roman's Love Story.

  First, I want to acknowledge the people that helped me the most with the process. Rayna Marlette Johnson Santini. You are by far the person who deserves the most Mad Props. Without you this book would not have left my tablet. You were the first person to encourage me, the first person to support me, and the first person who truly made me feel like I could actually do this. Thank you for not getting tired of me sending you every paragraph or thought that comes into my head. And if you do ever get tired of it, don't tell me. Fake it till I make it!

  My baby cousin, my beta reader. Rach, you grew up. Like, when did that happen? As much as that makes me feel old, I suppose it's a good thing because you're old enough to beta my books. Thanks for letting me demand that you read it. A special thanks for telling me that my main character's name was stupid and that I suck at spelling. I now know that you'll never worry about hurting my feelings and you'll be brutally honest.

  Shout out to Emily at Emily Wittig designs and photography. Thank you for the open kindness you so freely offered to a complete stranger. For chatting with and helping that crazy stranger, at all hours of the night even. You were there with nice words for every random midnight question.

  The second set of thank you's are for this story specifically. Anyone who actually knows me will know that this is very personal to me. I wrote a lot of myself and significant people in my life into these scenes and these characters.

  To the ones I do not name specifically, just know you're important to me and have made an immortal impression in my life. There are pieces of my soul reserved for you.

  Ray, I have to mention you again. You played such a significant role in both the book process and my life. You really are the first best friend I've ever had. Now I know what it feels like to find a cosmic soulmate. Your energy balances my awkwardness. If I want to do something absurd or idiotic, you don't lecture me or judge me. No. You're googling it and coming up with the plan. If anyone were to hack our text history, we would probably either be arrested, committed, or made into a movie. You're the only other weirdo who cares about fictional characters as much as I do and acts like they're our friends IRL. It means more than you'll ever know that you take such an interest in this part of my life. You are a monumental reason I was able to do this.

  I guess I should tribute your husband as well. Ryan, you've been my closest friend for the past decade or so. I don't know how you put up with me that long, but I'm glad you did because it was long enough to bring me Ray. You used to com
plain that I need to go try and find a girl to be friends with. HA. Jokes on you, you did it for me! But for real, your friendship has been a prominent part of my life. We became friends first out of convenience. We were the only two without "real jobs" and "normal hours" and lived down the street from each other. That friendship grew like bamboo into something more. A unique bond. Something that they've not yet invented a term for. A simple word would do nothing to validate what you mean to me anyway.

  Salute to Somich Army for giving me enough crazy memories to fill a novel... literally. Stevie K, my favorite paintball boy, your loyalty knows no bounds. Also, anyone who would willingly and lovingly hold my hair and rub my back while I puke my guts out all night- on the first night they meet me, is a pretty bad ass human.

  Kyle Postema, kudos for inspiring a fast favorite character- The boyfriend's best friend, who is always around and whose presence and humor is crucial to the storyline. As much as I secretly wanted you to move out of my living room, I didn't mean to the other side of the country! I miss your face. Life is a little less exciting here without you. Just know you can come back and crash on my couch again anytime.

  And most importantly, this story would never have existed without my husband. Justin, thank you for parking behind the art building that day. It was the furthest lot and I don't know why you ever would have parked there, but you did and because of that I saw you. I didn't know who you were, but I knew I was supposed to. That day changed my life. That was the day my happily ever after began. Nine years later (two years ago) on your birthday, I looked at you out of the corner of my eye and thought to myself, We would make such a great romance novel. I started writing it that night. I love you. Can't stop. Won't stop.