by E. K. Blair
She curls up and rests her head on my chest. It isn’t long before I feel myself falling asleep.
“Oh my God,” I hear a man say, and I’m slowly pulled out of my sleep.
“What the hell happened to your face, honey?” I roll over at the sound of Mark’s voice. When I open my eyes and see him looking at us, I shoot up next to Candace, who is already sitting up and hiding her face in her hands.
Needing to get him out of the room, I say, “Um, hey. I’m sorry, but could you give us just a minute?”
Mark is staring, almost in horror, at Candace then turns to me. I know he can see the panic in my face because I feel it all throughout my body. “Yeah, man. Sure. I’ll just be in the other room.”
Mark turns and closes the door behind him.
“Shit. I’m so sorry,” she says as she hangs her head down.
“What for?”
“I don’t know. For having your boyfriend see us in bed together.”
“Don’t worry about it. I talk about you all the time. He knows how we are; it doesn’t bother him,” I tell her, trying to reassure her, but I’m freaking out because now I don’t know what to say to Mark. Come to think of it, I haven’t spoken to him since she’s been here. I haven’t even thought about it because I’ve been so consumed with her. But Mark and I are trying to make whatever we have going on right. “Candace, I don’t know what to do here. I just got back together with Mark, and I can’t lie to him.”
She looks up at me, and I see the worry etched across her face. She doesn’t speak; she just stares at me. I can tell she’s confused, but she eventually nods her head. I feel like I just asked too much of her, but I need her to do this for me, as selfish as it is. I need her to allow me to tell Mark the truth.
Lifting her chin with my finger, I assure her, “Mark would never say anything. He isn’t like that.”
She nods her head again as her face scrunches up in pain and she starts crying.
“Don’t cry,” I whisper as I wipe her tears, but they’re falling too fast for me.
“I’m so embarrassed.”
I band my arms around her. “I know you are, sweetie, but you shouldn’t be.”
I continue to hold her as her cries turn into wails. I rock her back and forth in an attempt to soothe her as she buries her head in my neck. The sounds coming out of her are so hard for me to hear, and I can’t keep the pain bottled up, so I cry as quietly as I can. I’ve haven’t cried like this—so painfully— since I lost Jace.
I manage to get myself under control as she continues to sob in my arms. She’s so loud. I can only imagine what Mark must be thinking. She’s been crying for nearly an hour when I look up and see Mark quietly walking across my room. My eyes follow him as he sits down next to Candace on the bed. Her arms tighten around me when Mark puts his hand on her back. I know she’s embarrassed, and I fuckin’ hate that. She clings to me and continues to cry as Mark and I stare at each other. He looks at me with questions written all over his face as I lay my cheek on top of her head.
When I feel Candace’s body going limp in my arms, I loosen my hold and look at her. She’s completely worn herself out. Mark slides off the bed and onto the floor in front of her, and she turns to look down at him. I watch him take her hand before he gently asks, “Who did this?”
I know she won’t speak. I know I’ll have to be the one to say it. Fuck. I don’t want to say it. It’s gonna kill her.
Mark’s eyes stay locked on her when I clear my throat to try and speak around the lump that’s lodged in it. “Um . . . Candace was attacked Monday night.”
When I say that, she lowers her elbows to her knees, hiding her face in her hands. I keep my hand on her back, and see Mark wrap his hands around her knees.
“What happened?” Mark asks.
Staring down at Candace, she starts shaking her head. I know I just need to say it. I shift my eyes to Mark, and he looks up at me with his brows knitted together. My face heats with tears, and I hate that Mark is seeing me like this, so I just say it.
I grip her shoulder tightly and let it out. “She was raped.”
Mark’s eyes close, and he huffs out a pained breath, dropping his head onto her lap as a new slew of sobs rip through Candace.
The three of us sit there and cling to each other. I hate seeing her so broken and wonder what the hell must be going through Mark’s head right now. I hate feeling so powerless. I hate everything about this.
Candace begins to quiet down, and she lifts her head, wiping her face with her hands.
“I won’t say anything, if you were worried about that,” Mark assures her.
“I’m so tired,” she responds.
“I told her she could stay here for a few days. She doesn’t want anyone to know, and if Kimber saw her face, she would question her.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Mark tells me, then looks at Candace and says, “I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’m here if you ever need me. I feel like I know you by how much Jase speaks of you. The both of us are always here for you.”
God, I can’t even describe what his words do to me. That he doesn’t even hesitate for a second. I didn’t realize how much I might actually need him because just having him here in the same room as me right now makes me feel like I have the support I’ve been missing to keep it together. I don’t know how this guy can do that for me, but he does.
Slinging my backpack on, I hate that I’m leaving her. I look at Candace curled up on my couch, wrapped in a blanket.
“I’m fine,” she tries to convince me as I walk over and kiss her head.
I can’t miss any more classes this week. It’s the first week of the quarter and it’s the week where we pick our projects for graduation, so I have to go.
“I have a break in between my classes, so I’ll come back here, okay?”
She nods her head at me as I turn to leave.
When I get to class, I see Mark sitting at a drafting table next to a window. I grab a stool and slide it beside him.
“Hey, how are you?” he asks as I sit down.
I still hate that Mark saw me crying yesterday; maybe it shouldn’t bother me, but it does. No one has ever seen me like that except for Candace, but now I feel like I have to hide everything I’m feeling from her. The last thing she needs is to worry about me, but I’m having reservations about letting Mark in.
“I’m good,” I lie, not knowing what else to say.
Cocking his head, I’m worried that he’s going to call my bullshit, but he doesn’t. “How’s Candace?”
“Not good,” I say. I keep my own feelings to myself and just talk to him about her. “She’s having these freaky nightmares at night, and I’m really worried about her.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s weird, man. It’s like she’s still dreaming, but her eyes are open. She says she feels like she’s hallucinating. She screams and cries and gets so worked up that she begins throwing up. It’s really bad.”
“What does she say?” he asks me.
“Not much. She doesn’t like to talk about it. She doesn’t talk about anything.”
Leaning his elbows on the drafting table, he looks over and says, “Maybe you could talk to her about getting on a sleeping aid or something. It might help relax her enough to get her into a deeper sleep so her dreams aren’t so vivid.”
I look at him and wonder how he knows about this.
Reading the curiosity on my face, he explains, “I used to have nightmares when I was in high school. I took Prazosin to help me sleep.”
I don’t question him about why he had nightmares; I just nod my head and say, “Yeah. I’ll try talking to her.”
He gives me a smile and opens his notebook when our professor walks in. It feels a little strange to be here, away from her, but it also feels nice to get a break and to see Mark. We spend the next ninety minutes discussing our final capstone projects for graduation. After class, I tell Mark that I need to go h
ome and check on Candace before my next class.
“You mind if I tag along? I’m done for the day, so I can hang out with her while you’re in your next class.”
“You don’t have to.”
Looking over at me while we make our way through the quad, he says, “I know I don’t have to, but I want to.”
I nod my head and say, “Okay, I’ll drop you off at your car then.”
I am suddenly feeling a little self-conscious when he reaches down and takes my hand. I haven’t felt this way since I first came here three years ago and started being with guys, but that never felt like this. Serious. Intimate. Something about this makes me feel very aware of the people around me. My body tenses up, but Mark never says anything. He switches the subject, and I try to focus more on what he’s saying rather than what I’m feeling.
“So, the guys and I got booked to play a gig this Saturday,” he says.
“Oh yeah? Where at?”
“Blur. It’s a bar right off campus.”
“Yeah, I’ve been there a couple times. Nice place,” I say as we walk through the parking lot towards my car.
“I know you’ll say no, but I wanted you to know that I want you to come.”
When we get to my car, I unlock the doors, and he drops my hand to walk around and get in. I’ve only seen Mark play that one time, and that image passes through my mind. How hot he looked while playing his guitar and sweating through his shirt. Yeah, I want to see him play again, but he’s right, I’m gonna say no. I just can’t leave Candace for the night.
“I’m sorry,” I say and he interrupts.
“Don’t be. I know you need to be with Candace, I just wanted you to know.”
“Thanks for understanding, man.”
I turn into the lot where Mark’s Range Rover is and drop him off.
“Go ahead and go on up to the apartment, I’m gonna stop by Peet’s and pick up some food for Candace,” I tell him as I take the key off my key ring and hand it to him.
“Okay, grab me a coffee while you’re there, will ya?” Mark asks, and I nod my head before he slides out of my car.
When I arrive at Peet’s, I place my order and take a seat while I wait. I watch the rain collecting on the window and allow a moment of peace among all the strain from these past few days, but that peace is short-lived when I hear that all too familiar accent.
“You look like shit.”
I don’t even want to look at him. He’s a sick reminder of what I’ve been trying to escape. Mark makes me wish I could just forget about all the crap I used to do, and having Preston here just fills me with guilt. Fills me with the thought that I don’t deserve someone as good as Mark.
“What do you want?” I ask with a fleeting moment of eye contact.
Dropping his head slightly to the side, he says with a cheap grin, “Pathetic,” but it comes out more taunting than anything as he walks away towards the pick-up counter.
I hear my order being called, and I pick up the food and drinks that are sitting next to him. He looks over at me, and again, with the same mocking tone, tells me, “See ya around, mate.”
When I walk into my apartment, I’m happy to see Mark sitting on my couch watching ESPN.
“Where’s Candace?” I ask as I hand him his coffee and set the bag of food on the coffee table.
“She’s sleeping. When I got here, I checked in your room, and she was passed out, so I shut the door so I wouldn’t wake her.”
“She’s got to be tired as hell. She hardly sleeps.” I sit down next to Mark and lean back into the couch, kicking my feet up on the table.
When I let out a deep breath, Mark pulls me into his arms, and I let him. I can hear his heart thudding in his chest, and I wrap my arms around him and just lie there. I’m tired as hell too. Candace keeps me up most of the night, and I feel like I haven’t slept in weeks. Mark doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t really need to, so I shut my eyes while he holds me and watches TV. His is the only touch that has ever comforted me like this. It’s so different coming from him, and I try to shut out that awkward run-in with my past. There is too much other stuff going on right now to let crap like that get to me.
Mark’s arms squeeze tight around me, and the pressure wakes me up.
“Hey, you need to get back to campus for your class,” he says softly, but being here, wrapped up in him, I couldn’t care less about school.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he teases, and I know he can tell what I want, so I pull him down to me and kiss him. I keep my lips on his, needing to feel his touch. These past few days have drained me, and having this quiet time with him, although short, has given me solid ground to land on, and I needed it.
Removing my lips from his, but not wanting to, I whisper, “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“This,” I say, and he drops his mouth to mine but removes it too fast.
“You need to go.”
I nod my head and push myself off the couch. “You gonna stay?”
“Yeah. I’ll stay.”
I grab my bag and lean down to give him another quick kiss, just needing one last taste before I leave.
The next couple of days are pretty much the same. Candace is still at my place, taking the week off from school and work. She emailed her professors to tell them she was out sick, and Roxy didn’t question her when she called to tell her the same thing earlier this week.
I spoke to Candace last night about calling the doctor to see about getting something to help her sleep. I thought she’d put up a fight, but she didn’t. I think she’s just so sleep-deprived that she would do anything to get some rest. Last night, I woke up to see her still awake; I know she was fighting sleep. She told me she was scared to dream. I hurt so much for her, but have been keeping everything bottled up. I feel like I’m at my breaking point.
I’m driving home from my last class before the weekend starts. Candace mentioned going home on Monday, but I wish she would stay with me. She says that she needs to get back to her normal life. I know it’s her way of avoiding, and I didn’t question her. She still hasn’t talked about that night, and she refuses to see a therapist. I wish she would talk, but she doesn’t.
When I walk in my living room, I’m shocked to see Mark sitting on the couch with Candace.
“What are you doing here?”
“Just hanging out,” he says as if this is a normal thing for him to be here while I’m out.
“Oh, I didn’t know you were going to be here.”
“Is that a problem?” he asks, concerned.
I smile as I walk over to Candace, kiss her head, and then look to Mark, saying, “It’s never a problem. I’ll be right back; I’m gonna go change.”
I toss my bag in my closet and grab some clothes to go for a quick run when Candace walks in.
“How was your afternoon?” I ask her.
“It was okay. Mark’s been here to keep me company.”
Walking over to her as she’s sitting on my bed, I look at her cuts then kiss her cheek, “Your face is looking better.”
She nods and runs her hand down the side of her cheek when I continue, “Well, I’m glad he had time to stop by.”
“Me too. He came by a couple of times yesterday when he was in between classes as well.”
I turn around and slip my shirt on when she says this. “What?”
“What?” she questions in confusion.
“He was here yesterday too?”
“Yeah, I thought you knew. I thought maybe you told him to check in on me.”
“No.” I can’t believe he’s been coming over here to spend time with her. The fact that he would do that, on his own because he wanted to and not because I asked him to, surprises me. It’s apparent that he cares for her, and knowing that she has him, the only other person who knows what she’s going through, gives me reassurance that he’s different—he’s special. I’ve always known he is, but realizing he cares that much about me, to care that much for he
r, fills something inside of me I wasn’t aware was empty.
“He really likes you, you know?”
Lacing up my shoes, I say, “I really like him too.”
When I stand up and look at her, she’s just staring at me.
“What?” I ask.
“If you feel that way, then why did you kiss me and not him?”
“When?”
“Just a minute ago when you walked in.”
I drop my head before I look up at her. “It’s not that easy for me.”
“What’s not easy?”
“Having people see me this way. Having you see me this way.”
She shakes her head at me. “How do you think I see you?” When I don’t respond, she says, “You don’t have to hide from me. I love you.”
I go ahead and take this moment to open up to her a bit more about this and confess, “He held my hand when we were walking through the quad the other day, and I froze up. I’ve never done that before with a guy, but now that I think about it, I’ve never really held hands with a guy.”
“I don’t understand.”
“What I have with him is so different than what I’m used to. It’s one thing for me to screw around with guys, but to be with Mark the way I want to be, like holding his hand, in front of others . . . it just makes me uncomfortable to know what people might be thinking.”
She stands up and walks towards me. “It doesn’t matter what people think. You should be able to hold your boyfriend’s hand without having to worry about what other people are thinking. Mark is great. Don’t let that stuff get in the way of you guys.”
Taking her hands, I draw her into me and hug her. “I know. I’m trying to get past it.”
“It’s another reason why I should go back home. I feel like I’m intruding on your time together.”
Looking down at her, I insist, “You will never be an intrusion. I want you here,” before kissing her forehead.
“Why are you wanting to eat so late?”
