Don't Let Go

by Michelle Lynn

  “Thanks for your concern, Grant.” I force a smile up to him. Even though I’m mad at Brady, it infuriates me that Grant is talking about him like this. It is none of his business what is happening between Brady and myself.

  “It wasn’t my intention to get you mad, Sadie. It’s just…”

  “None of your business,” I finish his sentence.

  “Sorry.” He puts his head down, finishing his sandwich.

  “It’s alright. Let’s just agree to not talk about him,” I try to compromise.

  “Sounds good,” Grant agrees.

  We finish our lunch and leave the Student Center. I say goodbye to Grant and head toward my dorm.

  I’m just past the library, walking up the hill to my dorm when I notice a homeless man lying asleep on the bench by the basketball courts. He is wearing brown corduroy pants and a plaid, flannel, button-down shirt. His brown loafers look old and worn-out, his grey beard looks unkempt, and he is in desperate need of a shower. I dig in my messenger bag, grabbing half of the sandwich I didn’t finish and a water bottle. I take twenty dollars out of my wallet and tuck it inside the sandwich wrapper for him to find. Placing it on the bench next to him, I’m thankful he doesn’t wake up and I continue my walk down the sidewalk to my dorm.

  Chapter 6

  Brady has called me twice and texted me three times since Saturday afternoon. I have ignored every one of them. Jessa stayed in with me Saturday night and we watched some movies and made popcorn. I was close to telling her my secret, but I just didn’t have the guts to do it. Luckily, she seems okay with it.

  I walk down the stairs from Alcove Hall, excited that I understood Algebra today thanks to Grant, when I hear a familiar laugh. Looking down the steps, I see Brady to the right, talking to a couple guys. I glance behind me, wondering if there is another way out, but I have no idea where. Reluctantly, I make my way down the opposite side of the stairs, hopeful he doesn’t notice me. A smile spreads across my face when I get to the last step, assuming I’m safe.

  “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you?” I startle when he comes up alongside me.

  “Hopeful is more like it,” I spurt.

  “Why are you dodging me?” He keeps in step with me.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie.

  “I called you this weekend. You never called me back.”

  “I’m sure you found someone else to keep you company.” I continue to stare straight ahead while increasing my speed.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” His steps speed up to match mine, while his eyes never leave the side of my face.

  “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?” I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter anyway, but next time try not to make a girl feel so damn special if all you want to do is get in her pants,” I blurt out, turning toward the courtyard.

  “Sadie, you lost me.” He shakes his head.

  “Brady. It’s not like we were dating; it just irritated me that it was right after you left me,” I lie. The image of him sleeping with another girl tears me apart.

  “Sadie. Just fucking tell me what you are so pissed at,” he demands, his voice rising another octave.

  “Well Brady, let’s see. The fact that you pursued me. Tricked me into going to your show and to dinner. Made some plea that there is something between us you have never felt before, but as soon as I don’t give it up, you find someone else to get it from. Did you think Jessa wouldn’t tell me you came home the next morning wearing the same clothes? The funny thing is that she thought you came from being with me,” I reveal, noticing my mistake. I led us to the field that separates the dorms from the academic building, leaving us alone.

  “Fuck!” Brady screams, taking his head in his hands. “When are they going to stop fucking with my life?” he murmurs.

  “Listen. It’s been nice. Bye, Brady.” I turn around, walking up the hill toward my dorm.

  “SADIE!” he yells after me, but I ignore him. He jogs up to me, grabbing my elbow. “Just come with me. We need to talk.” His eyes are mixed with determination and agony at the same time. I have been here before. He is going to tell me it is something else and then I will put my heart on the line, and in a couple months I will find him in bed with someone else.

  “No, Brady. Sorry, you had your chance but I can’t risk it,” I respond.

  “You’re kidding, right? You never gave me a chance,” he says, upset.

  He’s right, I truly never did. It’s just too much. He will break my heart if I allow him in.

  “Please Sadie, give me an hour. If nothing changes your mind, then we will part and I won’t bother you again,” he requests. I can’t say no to those gorgeous eyes, so I give him a small nod.

  “Thanks.” He releases a deep breath. “Let’s go.” He takes my hand, leading us the opposite way toward Daffodil Hill. I love this area of campus. It is part of the original campus before the college expanded. It is shaped like a bowl with one of the hills filled with daffodils that blossom in the spring. Since fall is already on its way, the grass is green but dry.

  Brady sits me down at the top of the hill, keeping us hidden by the trees and buildings. “This is my favorite spot on campus. I have been coming here since I was a kid.” I look around and see Shubert Hall, the music building, behind us.

  “It’s a nice spot,” I say. You can watch students making their way to classes below, but no one really notices this secluded area.

  “I was up here about three weeks ago. It was one of our last hot days and I was just about to pack up and leave,” he starts talking. He looks over at me and I see something in Brady’s eyes I have never seen, insecurity. “I saw this blonde-haired girl walking down the path.” He points to the open field below us where the streams of students now walk. “Her head was down as she walked down the path, as though she didn’t want to be noticed. There was something about her, something I couldn’t explain. All of a sudden, I felt this pull inside of me. A sudden urge to run down the hill, throw her over my shoulder, and run away.” He opens his backpack, searching for something.

  “Before I could get down the sidewalk to make our paths cross, she had disappeared. I lost sight of her. I assume she must have snuck into a building.” He continues to look in his bag and I wonder why he is telling me this story of some girl he is obviously infatuated with. “I came back to this spot every day at that exact time, but I never saw her again. All I had to remember what she looked like was this.” He pulls out a sketchbook and there’s a drawing of a girl with her long hair flowing along the side of her face. Her face is turned down toward the ground, staring at her feet. The girl appears sad and lost in the drawing and a pang hits my stomach; this is how people see me. How could Brady want to be with someone so absent and disoriented?

  “It’s beautiful, Brady,” I say, admiring his sketch of me. He was able to portray exactly what I feel every day in only a glimpse of me walking across a field of grass. What can’t Brady Carsen do?

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispers in my ear, leaning over me to stare at the sketch. My heart races and chills cover my body. Oh I want him, how did he do this to me? He made me go from hating him to wanting to jump him in a matter of fifteen minutes.

  “And then I saw you that night at Billy’s which, by the way, that’s the name of the house you first met me at. It is a house that they gutted to have parties and bands play. We usually don’t play there, but we were filling in for another band that cancelled last minute. When you walked in with Jessa, I have never been more thankful for anything in my life. You appeared so shy and intimidated standing against the back wall. I didn’t have the nerve to go up to you for fear you would turn me away. I was frozen, watching you from across the room. When you waved goodbye to Jessa, I couldn't let you out of my sight again.”

  “So you knew I wasn’t drunk?” I ask him and he grins.

  “Yeah, I knew you were sober. I didn’t knock you down though. That was just luck on my part,” he c
huckles. “Then you were there by my side, and I had to go up on stage to play. There has never been a time that I didn’t want to perform more than that night. I told the guys we were going to cut it short. When I finished the second song, I saw you had left and it was all I could do to finish the set. I was so pissed at myself for allowing you out of my sight again.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” I ask him.

  “I need you to trust me.” He grabs my hand, placing it in his lap. “I can’t tell you where I was Friday night, at least not yet. But believe me Sadie, I wasn’t with anyone else. You’re the only girl who consumes my thoughts, my dreams, and my mind. Please trust me when I say there is no one else,” his voice is desperate, saturating his soft brown eyes.

  A big part of me believes him. My thoughts go to Jessa and how she now trusts guys again after what her ex-boyfriend did to her. I need to move on with my life; it’s been over a year and I still harbor all of the hurt and remorse. If I don’t start living my life, it is going to pass me by. Brady’s right, I never gave him a fair shot.

  “I believe you,” I whisper, still unsure of my decision to give this a chance.

  “Thank you, Sadie.” He releases the deepest breath in relief. “Now I have one more favor.” He peers over at me, continuing to hold my hand.

  “What, Carsen?”

  “Go on a date with me. A real date, just you and me from beginning to end,” he asks, squeezing my hand.

  I close my eyes, willing myself to allow me to have this. Give myself the possibility to have happiness and accept the consequences. “Yes,” I answer him.

  He picks up my hand and spreads it open, kissing my palm to his lips, and I wish he would continue that kiss up my arm.

  “I’ll pick you up tonight at six,” he instructs.

  “Tonight? It’s Monday,” I counter.

  “I’m not waiting a whole week, Sadie.” He shakes his head and releases my hand, placing the sketchbook back in his bag.

  “Alright,” I agree.

  “Let’s go, I’ll walk you back to the dorm.” He holds his hand out to help me up and then keeps it firmly in his for the entire walk.

  “I have a question.” I look over to him.

  “What?”

  “How did you know where I lived?”

  “Hey, I’ve got to keep some secrets to myself.” He smirks over to me, squeezing my hand again.

  “You aren’t some stalker guy who is going to murder me tonight, are you?” I question seriously.

  “I promise you, I’m not a stalker and I’m not going to murder you. Kidnap maybe, but not murder,” he laughs.

  As we get closer to the dorms, there are more students around. A group of girls relax out in front of the dorm when Brady and I walk up. They are talking about some boy band and who is hotter, but they fall quiet when they see us. I see the question in their eyes. The same question I saw in people’s eyes at the bar last week. Except this time, it is why I’m with him instead of the other way around. The girls resemble my friends from only a few short months ago. Shallow and vain. Although they probably are drooling over Brady, they would never date him. Most likely, they believe his car isn’t expensive enough and his clothes aren’t designer enough.

  Brady walks me up to the door and I notice his car in the parking lot.

  “Why is your car here?” I ask him.

  “Oh,” he looks back and laughs. “I swear I’m not a stalker, but you wouldn’t answer my calls or texts.” He holds up both his hands in defense. “I’ve been chasing you around this whole campus all day. I kept missing you.”

  “I’m glad you found me,” I divulge.

  “Me too. Don’t ever hide from me again,” he demands.

  “Looks like you got a ticket.” I point to the yellow envelope on his windshield.

  “Oh, I can take care of that.” He waves it off like it doesn’t matter.

  “See you tonight, Brady.” I get my keys out of my bag.

  “Sadie?”

  “Yeah,” I answer and turn around. When I shift my head in his direction, he is so close, my heart skips a beat. “I just want to warn you. I’m going to kiss you tonight,” he whispers in my ear and then turns around and walks toward his car.

  Chapter 7

  When I open my dorm door after taking a shower, I find a bouquet of different colored daisies on my dresser. Jessa smiles over at me through the ladder of my bed, studying my reaction.

  “When did these come?” I ask.

  “While you were in the shower. The florist delivered them.” She’s beaming more than me.

  I grab the note from the bouquet and my name is scripted in guy’s handwriting.

  You deserve something beautiful, but they aren’t nearly as beautiful as you. I’m anxiously counting the seconds until you open the door and I see your gorgeous face. See you at six. – B

  I hold the card to my chest, sighing. “Do I even want to know?’ Jessa holds her hand out for the card.

  “It’s private,” I giggle, keeping it close to my chest.

  “Come on, Sadie,” Jessa pleas.

  “Fine.” I hand it over to her and she reads it. “Should have known a singer would write some romantic crap.” She hands it back to me. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” She still believes he was with another girl Friday night.

  “Yeah, I’m sure,” I say with a smile, reassuring her. I put the note in my top drawer and go over to my closet to find something to wear.

  “Where is he taking you?” Jessa asks, putting her book down and turning on the television.

  “He never said,” I answer, continuing to sift through my hangers. I finally decide on a red dress that flares out at the waist in a series of pleats, paired with black heels.

  I get in my matching panties and bra. Even though Brady will not be seeing them tonight, they make me feel sexy. I curl my blonde hair in waves that travel down my back, pinning the front part off my face. My make-up is a little darker than Friday, but I still don’t use the dark red lipstick. I will never use it again.

  It’s five forty-five and I’m already dressed and ready to go. I sit down next to Jessa while she flips through channels and wait for Brady’s call. Suddenly there is a knock on the door. Jessa and I share a puzzled look and she gets up to open the door where Brady stands on the other side with his hands in his pockets, rolling back on his heels.

  I might have actually stopped breathing for a moment. He is wearing a pair of dark jeans with a red sweater and black leather jacket. His hair is loose and free of gel, pushed to the side. He smiles over to me, making me melt in desire.

  “You look even more amazing than I imagined,” he says to me while I get up and walk toward him.

  “Thank you. You look great, too.” I smile back.

  “Shall we?” He holds out his hand.

  “Please, before I throw up,” Jessa answers my question, walking back to her seat in front of the television.

  “Bye, Jessa,” I say, grabbing my clutch from the dresser next to the flowers.

  “Bye, guys.” She waves her hand, not looking our way.

  “See ya, Jessa. Hey, Robbie wants you to give him a call,” Brady shouts toward her before he shuts the door.

  “Whatever,” she remarks.

  When we enter the hallway I notice a couple girls milling around, obviously trying to check out who Brady is here to pick up. They quickly scurry like rabbits when we start walking down the hall, whispering to each other. Brady puts his hand on the small of my back and leads me through the door. His Camaro is parked outside with his hazards on, probably trying to not get another parking ticket.

  “You could have called, I would have come out,” I tell him while he opens the door for me.

  “Sadie, this is a date. I’m not about to be some shmuck who waits in the car for you to hop in.” He closes the door once I’m securely in the seat and I admire him walking around the front of the car before he settles into his own seat.

  �
�So, where are we going?” I pull my dress closer to my knees. It seems completely too short now that I’m seated.

  “It’s a surprise.” He leans over to me. This is it. He is going to kiss me now. Stretching his arm over me, he grabs my seatbelt, bringing it across me, and pushes it in the clip.

  “Sorry, I forgot,” I embarrassingly admit.

  “Don’t apologize. I quite enjoyed it.” He winks at me and starts the car.

  I can’t stop my grin while trying to roll my eyes at him.

  I notice we are driving into the city, away from campus. Being so close to two different cities had been a major perk for me when I decided to attend. Brady has a CD in that I have never heard of, but his fingers hit the steering wheel to the beat. His wrists are empty of the black leather bracelets tonight.

  “Do you like tapas?” He asks me, bringing my attention back to the conversation.

  “Truthfully, I’ve never had them,” I confess.

  “Really? That surprises me,” he exclaims.

  “Why does that surprise you?”

  “I just figured I would have nothing new to introduce you to. That you have pretty much experienced…everything,” he responds, making me believe he had a hard time planning this date.

  “You would be astonished what I haven’t experienced.”

  “I think you will like tapas,” he assures me.

  “I’m sure I will.” I smile over at him.

  We pull up to a small and intimate restaurant. There are only about fifteen tables and a bar along one wall. The hostess seats us in the corner by the window, handing us the menus. Brady pulls out my chair and then takes his seat across the table.

  A guy about our age comes over with two waters, informing us that his name is Sergio and he’ll be our waiter. He suggests we have sangria so I order one and Brady does too, but non-alcoholic.

  “Do you see anything you like?” Brady asks me, perusing the menu.

  “I think I will take your lead on this. How about something with shrimp?”