Red Nights

by Shari J. Ryan

  Everyone has left except Tanner, Aspen, Mom, and Dad. My heart is heavy. So heavy, I don’t know if I can move. If I leave here, is that me saying good-bye? It’ll be like I’m closing his book and saying the end. He’s been gone for a week, but now it’s undeniably clear that heaven and earth have come between us. This is officially the worst moment of my entire life.

  And this is all my fault.

  Dad took us all to Blake’s favorite burger joint for dinner. It was a nice idea…until we walked in and the hostess asked where Blake was. He ate at this restaurant twice a week. I don’t think it was on Dad’s agenda to announce Blake’s death to an entire restaurant. But when the hostess asked what happened, I told her. “I unintentionally started a fire. Blake died.” I don’t know how many times I’ve repeated that statement, but I don’t cry when I say it any more. The words are almost robotic.

  Dinner is quiet. We’re all kind of looking at each other with a zombie-like gaze. I can’t stop asking myself how this happened. Why this happened. Why do bad things happen to good people?

  Aspen and I slide into Tanner’s car; she’s in the back and I’m in the passenger seat, my face leaning up against the window. He glances over every few seconds, but I’m not sure what he’s looking for. “Can I do anything for you?” he asks.

  “Just take us back to Aspen’s, please.”

  We pull off to the side of the road in front of Aspen’s apartment. I keep my focus locked on the road in front of us, knowing I don’t really have a reason to see Tanner again after tonight, which makes this awkward and somewhat painful. It’s amazing how quickly feelings can return. “Can I come in for a bit?” he asks. “This sucks, Liss. I just don’t want to go home yet.” I ponder the idea, and then realize I won’t be able to run off alone and indulge in my ever-growing nicotine addiction if I agree.

  “Of course you can,” Aspen chirps from the back seat.

  “Actually, I think I just need to veg out for a while,” I say. “Rain check?” The look on his face makes me feel like I just ripped his heart out all over again. But I can’t do it. Not tonight. I need to be alone. And I need everything that comes along with it.

  “Totally cool. I get it.”

  But he doesn’t. He’s going home to an empty house, and I’m going upstairs with Aspen. I feel like an ass. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow. You know, to see how you’re holding up. Okay?”

  A tiny smile tugs at my lips. I used to love his determination—the way he didn’t give up. “Sure. I’d like that.” He leans over, giving me a quick peck on the cheek. “Take care of her tonight, Aspen. Promise?” He looks over his shoulder into the backseat. Aspen, who has her hands clasped together against her chest and a cheesy grin to accessorize, nods emphatically.

  No. She’s going to bed. And I’m running away again.

  “Dude, he definitely still cares about you,” Aspen says, trudging up the creaking wooden stairs. “I’m dying to know why you two broke up. I’m guessing there has to be some crazy story behind all of this.” She stops in the middle of the stairwell, and I almost crash into her. “I’m your friend. I’m supposed to know this stuff.”

  We weren’t friends during the time I was with Tanner, though; doesn’t that kind of excuse me from opening up about past boyfriends? “It’s a really long story, and I’m emotionally drained right now.” I’m hoping that she’ll drop it and continue up the stairs.

  She doesn’t.

  She plops down on the step as if it were her sofa. We’re literally ten steps away from her door. “Talking always makes me feel better.” I say nothing. “There was just this high level of emotional energy between you too…that’s all,” she says, resting her arms over her knees.

  “Probably because this is the most amount of time I’ve spent with Tanner in the past year, and something about it doesn’t feel right.” I know how Blake felt about us being together, especially after spending six months trying to break us up. “Tanner and I didn’t quite keep in touch the way we promised to, but I saw him now and again when he came over to hang out with Blake.

  “But why did you break up?” she whines.

  “If I tell you the basics will you drop this forever…please?” I beg. This is never going to work. The girl lives in a romance novel.

  “Why you gotta be so cruel to me, Felicity?” She lets out an exaggerated sigh mixed with a little laughter. “Okay, spill.”

  The basics. How do I sum up those six months in one sentence? “I needed to focus on work. I was working doubles five days a week, and when I wasn’t at work I was studying new recipes. I told him the timing wasn’t good for a relationship. And that was that.” I scare myself with how quickly that came.

  “You are a crappy liar, Felicity Stone.” She stands up and leans over to place a kiss on my cheek. “But I love you anyway.” When we reach the top of the stairs, she glances at me from over her shoulder, a playful look swimming in her eyes. “Well, I guess if you don’t want him, he’s up for grabs.” She giggles and tosses her purse onto the table.

  Even though I know it was a joke, her statement bothers me. Just because Tanner and I can’t be together, doesn’t mean I want to see him with anyone else either. Childish? Maybe. But I don’t care.

  “Kidding,” she chirps. “I’m on a man break right now.”

  “A man break?” I ask.

  She turns around to face me. “Yeah,” she says, running her fingers through her hair. “I fell for the last guy and…” She pulls in a sharp breath and tosses her coat onto the sofa. “Anyway, I just need a little time right now.”

  “If you want to talk, I’m here,” I tell her.

  “Thanks, but I’m not going to bother you with this right now. You have enough going on.” She turns around and fusses with her hair, pulling it up into a ponytail. “Love you, girly. See you in the morning.”

  I sit on the edge of the bed, anxiously waiting for her to go to sleep. My knee is bouncing to its own rhythm, and I’m picking the skin around my cuticles. Please, just go to bed.

  The reflection of her bedroom light disappears after a few minutes, but the sound of crying fills the air again. Something is really hurting her.

  Something is really hurting me.

  The second the cries stop, I grab the keys and jet out the door. As I round the bottom step of the first flight, Aspen’s voice echoes down the stairs. “Where are you going?” she croaks

  Crap. Crap. Crap.

  “Nowhere,” I yell in a whisper. “I just need some fresh air. I’ll be back in a minute.” I’m thankful when she turns around and closes the door without further questions.

  The air is cooler tonight; the thick clouds are locking in a misty breeze. I wish I’d grabbed the sweatshirt Aspen lent me yesterday. I pop a cigarette into my mouth and light it quickly so I can wrap my arms back around my goose-bump covered skin.

  A fast pace and the warmth in my lungs seem to do the trick as I return to the quiet park. I lay in the grass and my focus is drawn to the sky. I stare through the red hues that only I can see. I can’t figure out how my mind is creating the illusion, but it’s like the fire is branded there. Like when I stare at something so long that I can still see it when I close my eyes. That has to be what it is.

  When the goose bumps surface again, I shove off the dewy grass and find myself standing in the in front of Lady. Behind Lady is Hayes, his hands in his pockets and the newly-familiar smirk dimpling his cheeks. “Guess you don’t take a stranger’s advice too seriously, huh?”

  “I march to the beat of my own drum, I guess.” My smile comes so naturally, yet uncomfortably at the same time. I have this sense of guilt for feeling anything other than sadness right now. Blake is dead. I have no right to be happy. “Come here often?”

  He comes a little closer…a lot closer, actually. He’s only a couple feet away from me now. “Every night for the past six months. I don’t know. I guess it’s something about the quiet after a long day. Kind of like a night-cap I guess.” In the glow
of his flashlight, I think he notices the goose bumps on my arms. He removes his coat and hands it to me. “You’re freezing. Take this.”

  “Oh, I’m fine really. But thank you, that’s very sweet.” As if Lady understands what we’re talking about, her body rubs up against my leg, nuzzling her warm head under my hand.

  “Please take it,” he presses. “I mean this in a nice way, but you kind of look like hell. You’re shivering, and have you been crying? The least I can do is offer you some warmth.” Maybe if he just keeps talking, the sound of his voice will continue offering the comfort I’ve been missing. God, I hate to ask why he thinks I’ve been crying. Do I look that awful?

  Despite my reluctance, I reach for his coat and drape it over my shoulders. “What makes you think I was crying?” I ask, buttoning the coat over my chest, inhaling the delicious scent of fresh laundry and cologne.

  “You’re sitting in a dark park alone at night,” he says. “And you’re staring at the sky as if it holds all the answers.” That’s my giveaway? “Plus,” he squints at me. “I think you have a bit of black make-up streaked over your cheek.”

  Nerves ignite in my stomach. This is humiliating. I slap my hand over my cheek and rub at my cool skin, desperate to hide the truth.

  “It’s the other side.” He laughs softly and moves in closer. “Here, I can help.”

  He reaches over, but I pull back. “You might be a creep, remember?” My heart hammers at the thought. Maybe I am an idiot for sitting in a dark park alone at night. I’m asking for trouble. My gut is twisting and turning; I know I should walk away now, but I want to feel this guy’s touch more than I’ve wanted anything in the past week. Maybe it’s the sound of his voice, or the way his smile is hesitant, but I’m having a hard time convincing myself that Hayes is a threat.

  “You’re right,” he says. “I did warn you of that possibility. Here.” His fingers wrap around my wrist, the warmth of his hand soothing some of my apprehension. “Give me your finger, and I’ll show you where it is.” I loosen my clenched fist and reach my finger out. With the slightest bit of pressure, he moves my finger up against my cheek, letting his knuckles sweep against my lips. His skin smells like fresh mountain air, and his touch is soothing. This man is making my heart pound so hard I can hear my pulse vibrate in my ears.

  I remember now: I’m supposed to be wiping away the mascara streaked down my cheek, not basking in the sensation of his touch.

  I rub at the spot for a minute before he says, “You got it all.”

  I’m with a guy I don’t know in the middle of the night, and no one is around to hear me scream if I need help. Come to your senses, Felicity. This isn’t some fantastical love story where danger and rapists don’t exist. “I should get going. My roommate has probably sent a search party out to look for me.” I clutch his coat, ready to peel it off and hand it back to him.

  “I wouldn’t worry…a search party wouldn’t consider you missing for at least twenty-four hours,” he says, his eyes burning into mine as if he just noticed something deeper, something more in them. “Anyway, I hope whatever you’re going through gets easier.” He places his hand on my shoulder, halting my attempt to remove his coat. “Hang on to that so you don’t get cold walking home.”

  “I don’t feel right taking it from you.” But it’s the most comforting gesture anyone has shown me in a very long time.

  He laughs softly and takes his hand from my shoulder. “I have a feeling I might see you again. And if I don’t, I’ll at least know you’re warm.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I WISH MY DISTRACTION with Hayes, the Shadowed Stranger would have lasted a little longer. Even with the slight easing in my chest, I realize that my life is spinning out of control. I don’t know who I am or what the hell I’m doing. I don’t sit in dark parks in the middle of the night. I don’t flirt with total strangers who offer me their coats.

  Maybe I should consider it more often.

  I’ve been sitting in the same position on the couch for the past five hours, staring at the wall, begging my mind to stop racing between the photographic images of Blake and the moonlit smile that temporarily made me forget everything.

  As if my thoughts are loud enough to be heard, Aspen steps out of her bedroom, half-asleep with her hands up in defense. “Don’t worry,” she groans. “I won’t ask you where you were last night, and I won’t tell you I waited up for you to get home because I was worried.” She lowers her hands and wraps her arms around herself, probably from the slight chill breaking in through the old window. I stopped feeling the cold two hours ago. “I just want you to know you can talk to me if you want to.” I don’t want to talk—not about my past with Tanner, and especially not about what I was doing or where I was last night. “I’m sorry I said Tanner was up for dibs.”

  She thinks I’m mad about that? I had almost forgotten she said it.

  “He is. He’s not mine, and I can’t claim him,” I state. Over the past year, I’ve come to realize I can’t control what Tanner does or who he sees. It’s been easier to know there is no possibility of a future with him rather than thinking things might change someday. We’re friends. That’s how it has to be. I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t say that a small part of me wishes I could hang him up like a winter coat, and then each winter try him back on to see if he fits. But life doesn’t exactly work that way, and I can accept that. I have to accept it. He’ll remain the one who got away—or, if we’re being honest, the one Blake made go away.

  “Oh,” she says, “I completely understand. I was just trying to make you laugh last night.”

  “I know you’re trying to help me, hon. And I know I’m being difficult. I just need a little time to get myself out of this funk.” Maybe a lot of time. How does one come out of a funk after losing their twin? “So, I hate to put you out any more than I have already, but could you drop me off at my parents’?”

  She nods with a solemn grimace. “Sure.” She snatches her keys from the side table. “You’re not moving out on me already, are you? Am I that bad of a roommate? I am, aren’t I? I know I’m messy and loud and have a tendency of prying into your business, but I don’t want you to leave because of that. Please, Felicity. Don’t go.” She throws her arms around me.

  “No.” I force a quiet laugh to ease her worry. “I just want to grab my car.” I take Hayes’s coat and slip it over my shoulders, inhaling the scent he’s left behind. “Then I have to run into the restaurant and talk to Grant for a bit, too.” And it’s about you.

  She eyeballs the coat for a second, and I can see the question in her expression. I’m guessing she wants to know whose it is. I hold my focus on her face, hoping she won’t ask. But after a moment, her brows rise, and her lips hint at a smile. “Nice coat.” She shakes her head as if pushing more questions away. “Anyway, I know you’ve been avoiding your car, so if you want, I can take you to the restaurant myself. I need to check the schedule anyway.”

  “Um,” I say, in place of what I want to say. No, you can’t come.

  “I mean, unless you want to go alone,” she says passively. “I can understand that, too.” She must sense something. I know I’m a bad liar, and I can’t hide anything, even if my life depended on it.

  “I think I should do this alone,” I say, breaking our eye contact. It’s written on my face. She’s reading it. I should have just told her a week ago, but part of me is hoping to change Grant’s mind today. The timing couldn’t be worse. He didn’t exactly give me a reason for his decision, but Grant doesn’t do things out of haste. He’s quite tactful in the way he runs the restaurant, making it so I never have to question his motives.

  “I get it. I’ll take you to your parents’. No problem at all.” What can I say to make this better? When she finds out what I’m not telling her, she’s going to kick me out.

  Not that I can blame her. I’d kick me out, too.

  * * *

  I hold my breath as I slip into my car. I know I can only hold the air i
n for so long before I’m forced to breathe in what will most definitely smell like Blake. All other physical memories of him are gone. This is what I’m left with: a scent.

  I try the whole breathing in through my mouth and exhaling through my nose thing, but wafts of his soap hit me hard. Too hard, and the tears just flow.

  Everyone said things would get a little easier every day, but they’re just getting harder and harder. The pain continues to thicken in my blood, and the gloom in my mind has pretty much incapacitated my flow of thoughts. I don’t know how I’m going to make it through this.

  * * *

  I fought through the pain and the tears, the blame and stress and managed to drag myself through the mall to pick up a new cell phone and some clothes. I’m literally putting my life back together, piece by piece, item by item. Except with each new purchase, I feel like I’ve walked a little farther away from the life I’m leaving behind. I almost feel as though my identity went up in flames, too.

  And now, I’m sitting in my car outside of Sur Le Feu, still hesitant about going in. I fumble with the new phone. I’m procrastinating, of course. I need to set up my email in hopes of reconnecting with my old life, even in just the slightest bit. But it’s only seconds before I realize how big of a mistake this is. There must be a hundred Facebook notifications saturated with consoling words. I only have one non-Facebook email, and it’s from Tanner, dated a week ago. He’s looking for me, wondering why I’m not answering his texts or calls. He was worried and wanted to know if I was okay.

  Not that he doesn’t already know I’m okay, but I respond anyway, thanking him for the check-in and letting him know that I just got a new phone.

  It’s less than a minute before a text from Tanner pops up on the display. He must get those anxiety-laden notification pop-ups when someone emails him too.