Don't Let Go
Page 4
“Hey, Rob’s an asshole. Don’t let him get to you.” He places his finger under my chin, bringing me up to meet his face. “You owe me a dinner and I plan on making you pay.” He grabs my hand and leads me to his car.
Fifteen minutes later, we are off campus and downtown at some dive diner off the highway. When we enter there are a few older men at the counter, but all the booths are open. Brady lets me pick the table so I choose one in the back corner. A waitress in her fifties with her hair pulled back in a bun and wearing a pink and white dress and an apron comes over, handing us menus.
“Hi, Brady,” she says, glancing from him to me. “Who is your friend?” she smiles.
“This is Sadie,” he answers, holding his hand out toward me. “Sadie, this is Jacks.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sadie.” She puts out her hand for me to shake and I oblige.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” I concur, noticing her name tag actually reads Jackie. Brady seems to shorten everyone’s names.
“So, you two, what will it be?” Jackie asks, taking out her pencil and paper.
“Do you mind if I order for you?” Brady questions, shy and hesitant, so I nod. “Thanks,” he responds. “We will have two of my usual, Jacks.” He grabs our menus and hands them to her.
“Sounds good,” Jackie says before walking away.
I have never been to a diner in my life. The decorated black and white vinyl booths with red piping flows nicely with pictures of vintage cars and past actors and actresses from a time before I was born. The older men are engrossed in their own conversation regarding some sports game, leaving Brady and me to ourselves.
“So, what did you think of the show?” Brady relaxes back into the booth, stretching one arm along the top of the booth and his other arm out resting on the table.
“It was good,” I answer, smiling over at him.
“How about awesome or incredible? How about you couldn’t keep your eyes off the lead singer?” he jokes.
“You are a really good singer,” I admit.
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?” He leans forward in his seat, eager to hear more.
“Well…I do have one question.” I tap my finger to my bottom lip.
“Yeah?”
“Is the drummer single?” I grin up to him.
“Oh man, I think you just broke my heart.” He puts his hand over his chest, sighing.
“Seriously though, how come you didn’t play any of the love songs from the album you gave me?”
“First of all, I have never written a love song. Second, our band has a certain reputation and that doesn’t include the slower…more…emotional songs.”
His response confuses me. Those songs were about losing someone and being left alone. Did he just lie to me again? That would mean two times in just a few hours.
“I think your fans would like your slower songs. I fell completely in love with them,” I confess.
“Really? That means a lot.” Brady appears surprised by my reaction to his music. “I don’t usually share…” He stops when Jackie interrupts us with our food.
“Here you guys go.” She sets down two chocolate milkshakes, two cheeseburgers with fries, and a plate full of nachos in the middle.
“I’m never going to finish this,” I tell him after she walks away.
“Wait until you taste this food.” He pops a fry into his mouth and smiles from ear to ear.
After the meal, my stomach is so bloated I think the button of my pants might pop off. Brady tells me how he’s been coming here since he was little. He grew up in this town and has lived his whole life here. I keep him in the dark regarding my past, telling him I went to Western Colorado and my family resides there as well. I can’t fault him for lying since I am too.
I go to the bathroom after the meal, leaving Brady to chat with Jackie about someone they both know. I stare at myself in the mirror, applying the lip gloss that the food and shake rubbed off. My hair has fallen limp and straight so I pull it back in a low ponytail. Straightening my blouse out, I venture back out to the booth. Jackie’s gone and Brady is doing something with his phone.
“Did you enjoy the meal?” He puts his phone away and peers up to me.
“I did. I can’t believe I ate that much,” I declare, observing my half-eaten burger with no fries left and an empty milkshake.
“I might have overdone it with the nachos,” he admits, chuckling. “Are you ready?” He scoots out of the booth, waiting for me.
“Where’s the bill?” I grab my purse, scooting out myself.
“Oh, I took care of it already.” He grins up to me.
“I was supposed to pay,” I exclaim, narrowing my eyes.
“Sorry, I forgot.” He jokingly shrugs his shoulders. “I guess you will just have to treat me another time. Actually, twice now.” He laughs.
“Brady Carsen, did you set me up?”
“Maybe.” He raises his eyebrows up to me. “It’s not in me to let a lady pay.”
“Goodnight, you two,” Jackie says, waving from behind the counter.
“Bye, Jacks. Thanks for everything,” Brady responds and waves back.
“Nice to meet you, Jackie,” I say in return.
“You too, sweetie,” she replies.
Brady opens the door for me and I watch him make his way to his side of the car. He is so different than what I’m used to as are the feelings he invokes in me. I’m at ease with him, as though I would walk away from the life I know and be content to spend my remaining days with him. Holy Shit, what the hell, Sadie?
When he settles in the car, he looks over at me and I see it on his face. His desire is clear as he gazes at my eyes and then my lips and back up to my eyes again. I see his hand moving up to my cheek. Oh I want this, I want nothing more than his lips on mine. He leans in, closing the gap between us. Just as he licks his lips, I abruptly turn around toward the window. I close my eyes as I continue to face the passenger window, ignoring what just happened.
Brady sighs before he puts the key in the ignition and drives out of the parking lot. I don’t think I have to worry about him pursuing me further; I’m sure I just put a stop to that. I did the right thing, right? Could I have stopped at just a kiss? I have never stopped there.
He pulls up outside my dorm and I open the door before he can put the car in park. I can’t face him; I’m embarrassed how I reacted. It was just a kiss. I didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want to if got more heated.
“Sadie,” he yells over to me. I’m already at my dorm doors.
I ignore him and walk through the doors. Some guy comes out as I go in and I hear Brady ask him to hold the door, which the guy does. Thanks a lot buddy.
“Sadie, hold up,” Brady calls out, catching up to me at the next set of doors.
“What?” I ask with my back turned to him, staring at the ground.
“Look at me,” he requests softly. Lucky for me no one else is around. I’m sure they’re still out enjoying their Friday night.
“I can’t,” I whisper.
He walks up to face me, putting his hands on my arms. “Please,” he begs.
I reluctantly look up through my eyelashes and see that he isn’t mad that I didn’t kiss him. Only concern fills his eyes and face.
“Why are you running away from me? I thought we had a pretty good date.”
“I’m sorry, Brady. You shouldn’t waste your time on me.”
“Tell me you feel this. Tell me it’s not just me.”
“Brady,” I sigh. “You don’t understand. It doesn’t matter what I feel. I can’t do this.” I shake my head.
“Don’t walk away from this, Sadie.” His eyes bore into mine. “I know we look different from the outside, but it’s the inside that counts,” he argues. He thinks I don’t want to be with him because of our outward differences, but the truth is he’s too good a person for me.
“I don’t care about that, Brady. There are things about me you just don�
��t know and once you find out…” I continue to shake my head, putting my key in the door.
“I could give a shit about your past. Hell, we all have pasts, Sadie. I refuse to let you throw this away.”
I hold the door open with my back, my eyes fixed to the ground. “Goodbye, Brady,” I say to him, walking through the doors.
“No, Sadie.” He grabs my arms, pulling me to him. “Goodnight… not goodbye.” His lips brush across my cheek. “I won’t give up. If you’re not going to fight for this…I’ll do it for the both of us.” He releases me before letting the door shut between us.
I make my way up the stairs and open the door to an empty room. I walk over to the ladder of my bed, shedding my flats as I go. Crawling up to my bed I close my eyes, willing the tears that are escaping to stop. Why am I so fucked up?
Chapter 5
Jessa’s key turning in our lock wakes me. She stumbles in the doorway, wearing what she wore last night. The smile on her face is evidence of her good time with Rob. Staring over at my clock, I notice it’s ten in the morning.
My stomach is still full from the meal at the diner, which brings visions of Brady to mind. I sit up in the loft, watching her try to be quiet, tip-toeing around the room to change.
“So, where have you been?” I shout down and she jumps back.
“Jesus, Sadie. You scared the shit out of me,” she screeches, holding her hand over her heart.
“Please tell me how you go from wanting to get the hell away from him to coming home the next morning from his bed?” I climb down from the loft.
“I don’t know.” She appears to be contemplating something in her head. “I never told you this but…” She hesitates and I realize she is about to tell me her secret but I’m not ready to share mine.
“You don’t have to tell me, Jessa,” I declare, shaking my head.
“I want to,” she assures me. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to tell me yours, until you are ready,” her voice sympathetic. “Rob reminded me of my ex. To say we ended things on bad terms is an understatement. We were dating for a couple months when he asked to take pictures of me while we were having sex. I fully trusted him; he gave me no reason not to. We continued to date for about two weeks after that.” Her head is down, reliving the moment things went bad.
“We were out at a party,” she continues. “I saw an old boyfriend and was talking with him. Nothing big, just catching up with one another. What we had been up to in the years since we had seen one another. Jason, that was my ex’s name, became furious. He started busting tables and throwing things around until his friend took him outside to cool down. Honestly Sadie, it was an innocent conversation. I didn’t even hug him hello or good-bye.” She seems adamant that I believe her. “Anyway, he wouldn’t talk to me. Just kept calling me a whore. I was in tears, practically begging him to forgive me, for what now I have no idea, but at the time I just wanted him to stop being mad at me.” She takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly before continuing.
“The next day when I woke up, my phone had fifteen missed calls and twenty texts from my friends. He posted the pictures online and had his friends send it to his friends and so on. Everyone from my childhood friends to my college friends saw the pictures.” A tear rolls down one of her cheeks, but she swipes it away quickly. “After that, all the guys thought I was easy and the girls thought I was a slut. I have never regretted anything more and the thing was, I couldn’t do anything to stop it. My parents were embarrassed in front of their friends and family, not being able to ignore what I had done. That was last January. I dropped out of school and ran away from everything I knew. My parents are the only ones who know where I am. They didn’t even tell my sister, afraid she would slip at some point.” The grief and distress is evident in her voice.
“I’m sorry, Jessa,” I say, knowing it’s not enough. I know first-hand that sorry isn’t enough.
“When Rob first sat down, it was all I could think of. But after the show started and I saw him up there, I was able to see the differences between him and Jason. My therapist has taught me many coping techniques to be able to start trusting people again. Of course, those two vodka tonics didn’t hurt,” she jokes, but her laugh is empty.
“Where is Jason now?” I ask her.
“Back home. Working as a mechanic, fixing up cars. Hopefully enrolled in a wonderful anger management class,” she jokes again, but it’s not her true laugh and there is a twinge of unsettled fear in her.
“What an asshole,” I confirm.
“Yep. Speaking of assholes, what is a wasp?” she asks.
“It’s a term to describe privileged white kids with money. The actual phrase is White Anglo Saxon Protestant. Jokes on him, I’m Catholic,” I laugh, mine as empty as hers.
“I don’t know what his problem is with you. I hope you aren’t mad I slept with him.” She puts her hand on my knee.
“No, I’ve handled worse than him.”
“Don’t worry. I think Brady was ready to pounce on him when he came home this morning.” Jessa goes to stand up. “When Rob was leaving to drive me home, Brady was pulling up in the driveway. He stuck his head in the window and told Rob to get the fuck back because they had to talk about last night.”
“Brady didn’t get home until this morning?” I swallow the large lump in my throat.
“Well… yeah. Wasn’t he with you?” She answers her own question when she notices the shocked expression on my face. “Oh…I’m sorry, Sadie. I just assumed,” she says. Her eyes display her empathy to my pain.
“It’s okay. I’m going to go take a shower,” I say, fumbling to grab my robe and shower caddy before I cry in front of Jessa. I should have known he was like all the others. I didn’t let him sleep with me last night so he found someone else, most likely that Kara girl from Aces.
After my shower, Brady is washed off my body. I will no longer let him fill my head with his words, or my heart with his songs. I have to admit he played me well. At least I never acted like I wanted more than their body when I only wanted sex from someone.
Jessa is asleep when I get back in the room. She is so much braver than me to share her story. She brought up going to a therapist and I wonder if that is what I should do. My parents said it would do us no good and we didn’t need to reveal our dirty secrets to strangers. I can’t help but think that me sleeping with every male at Drayton wasn’t exactly dealing with it.
I quietly get dressed and pull my wet hair back in a bun. I grab my messenger bag and sling it over my shoulder. I stop by the cafeteria to grab an apple and yogurt before heading to the library. As it’s Saturday, the library is vacant of people, making me hopeful that the sixth floor will be unoccupied today. I try to shrug off the memory of Brady when I get to the elevators.
When I get to the sixth floor, there is no one around except the librarian assistant down the hall, making me happy to have a quiet place to concentrate on my Algebra. I put my bag down and pull out my book. I take my ear buds out since I need all the attention I have to absorb this information.
Going back and forth between the problems I have to solve, I shove my notebook across the desk and rest my head on the table. This is beyond me and I feel like such a major idiot that I cannot understand it. I really should have investigated the different colleges to make sure a year of math wasn’t a mandatory requirement for Psychology majors.
“What? No music today?” Grant stands next to me, grabbing the notebook before it falls to the ground. He is wearing a pair of running pants with a matching jacket. I wonder how he ended up here at Western; he would have fit in at Drayton, no problem.
“No, I need to focus, but it’s not working,” I whine.
He looks at the notebook. “If you’re a senior, why are you taking Algebra 101?”
“My last school didn’t have a requirement of math for psych majors. Since I transferred, I have to fulfill this year of math if I want to graduate,” I admit, embarrassed.
“Do you want
some help?” He motions to the empty seat. I’m pleased he asks permission this time.
“If you can get me to understand this, I will buy you lunch.”
“Deal,” Grant agrees and sits down across from me. He takes my book and notebook, reading the instructions.
An hour and a half later, Grant has done the impossible. I actually semi-understand what he is talking about, even solving the problems on my own.
“Now you owe me lunch.” He stands up, going for his bag.
“Yes I do. Thank you, Grant. You are a lifesaver.” I pack up my bag, slinging it over my shoulder.
“Can I talk you into dinner instead? My treat, of course,” he requests.
“Sorry I can’t, but we can head over to the Student Center now if you want.”
“I will take what I can get,” he agrees.
Grant and I take the elevator down and it’s empty of Brady when the doors open on the main level. I walk with him across the courtyard to the Student Center. We grab a couple of sub sandwiches and sodas and sit down at a table. Just like Brady, Grant doesn’t let me pay. I find out that he is a senior business major and is in a fraternity.
“Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?” Grant takes a sip of his soda, glancing over to me.
“Depends. What is your question?” I ask, hesitant to talk about my personal life.
“How come you didn’t ask Brady for help in math?”
“Um…I don’t know. Why would I?”
“Don’t you know?” He looks at me, surprised. “I assumed you guys were friends.”
“We are…were. It’s complicated. What don’t I know, Grant?” I ask.
“He’s an engineering major. Top of his class, Dean’s List. He’s even a teacher’s assistant in a couple of the undergraduate classes,” he reveals before taking a bite of his sandwich.
“I really just met him last week,” I declare. I realize the only things I know about him are that he’s the lead singer of The Invisibles, drives a Camaro, and makes my stomach fill with butterflies when I hear his voice.
“Just be careful, Sadie. There is a lot about him you don’t know,” Grant says.