She’s my only link to a real family anymore.
The blow dryer shuts off and Holli leaves the bathroom looking fresh and proper. The perfect TV star.
“What’s up?” she asks, bouncing on the bed next to me.
I move and wrap my arms around her upper body, letting my head fall onto her shoulder. She moves her hand and pats the side of my head.
“You okay?”
I nod my head. “I’m okay. I miss you. Life is just feeling a little off kilter.”
Her hand drops and she makes me get up. “Off kilter? What’s been going on?”
I clear my throat. “I told Lark I’d meet him today.”
“Why would you want to see that tiny-peen man?”
I uncap the bottle of water sitting on her nightstand and take a drink. “I don’t know. Closure?”
She levels her eyes. “Closure?”
“I don’t know, Holls,” I repeat. “He’s been texting me since I walked out and I just—feel bad.”
“You?” She points to me. Dirty whore. “You feel bad? Who are you? And what did you do to my best friend?”
I bump my shoulder with hers. “Shut up. I guess I’m starting to find my heart.”
She doesn’t seem convinced. I’d be offended but she doesn’t mean it in the way most would. She knows I guard my heart. I don’t think she realizes that somehow with the realization that I came to with Jennings a month ago, coming home from Bradley’s, I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m not where I want to be in my life. Talking to Lark is just the first little step to trying to find me.
“Your heart is fully intact, Whit. What’s really going on?”
Uh oh, I didn’t think I was that transparent. Do I want to say out loud why I’m really meeting with Lark? It feels like such a cop out.
Lark is easy.
This isn’t news to anyone.
I want closure, sure. But, when I really think about him compared to Jennings—or hell—Oliver, Lark just seems like the easiest thing. I know he says he loves me, but he doesn’t really know what love is. I could coast on not saying anything back to him for a while.
Jennings has the capability to break me. Not just in half, but into a million pieces. He could shatter my everything if I let him get too close. Maybe I’m scared. And I can see myself breaking all of my ridiculous rules to let him come into the fortress that I’ve built around my heart.
What? I’m not an idiot. Don’t look at me like that. I know it’s the stupidest thing I could think of. Because, honestly—if the past month is any sign of how he is in a relationship, whether that be friendship or an actual relationship, he’s sort of amazing. And when I say sort of, I mean—he’s probably the best person I know. He’s attentive and caring, never pushing me too far for feelings I’m not willing to offer, but offering a kind ear when I do need to let off some steam.
I answer Holli, “I just want to see him.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m starting to fall for someone and I want to see if seeing Lark will help me in my decision.”
It could be for nothing, though, because Jennings could think of me as a friend and nothing more. Hell, even that’s okay with me. He makes me want to be someone I’ve been trying so hard to push out. That little flicker of a Whitley I haven’t seen in years is starting to burn slightly brighter and I might like the thought of it. Might. I’ve been one way for so long, I don’t know if I like it, or I like that Jennings might like it.
If you haven’t noticed, I’m a bitch. Not a big one. I care for my family and friends. I’m generally nice to everyone I meet. I’m a firm believer in treating others as you’d like to be treated and giving second chances. But, there’s a flip side to this philosophy. You wrong me or anyone I care for, I turn into…well…a bitch.
“So, you’re falling for someone?” There’s genuine wonder in Holli’s voice. No fallacies. No judgment. I’ve got to give her credit, I don’t think I’ve ever had a steady boyfriend in all of the years I’ve known her. You know, gypsy heart and all.
“I mean—I guess. Yes. Possibly. Really, I’m treading in unchartered territory here, Holls. I like him in a way I’ve never liked anyone. I don’t just see him as a guy. He’s this guy. This incredible guy who’s kind of an ass, and assertive and caring and a little cocky. He’s this multi-dimensional man who I sort of want to know everything about. He’s charming.”
Her eyebrows are up into her forehead and I don’t think she believes me. “Okay, so, wow.” She clears her throat. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about a man so much before.”
“Huh?”
“The only time you’ve ever talked about a guy was,” she stops. “Shit, never. Like ever. This is huge. You had been with Lark for two months, which is the longest you’ve ever been with anyone. I’m just surprised, is all. Who is it?”
I bite my nail. I was hoping she’d skip right over that question.
“Whitley Jules!”
“What?” I give her innocent eyes.
“Is it Jennings?”
My eyes dart away.
“Holy shit, it is. How could you not let me know?”
I groan. “This is the first time we’ve actually sat down and talked in a few weeks, Holls. I’m sorry.”
Holli stretches her body over mine, retrieving her phone on the nightstand, checking the time.
“I know. The first of the season is always so damn stressful. I’m sorry.”
“Hush. You know I understand. I’m fine.”
Kind of.
“So, Jennings, huh?”
I’m sure I’ve got a dreamy smile on my face. Eyes wistful. “He’s great. And he’s coming home this weekend.”
“He is pretty great. And he is? For just the weekend?”
“Yeah. He has to be back on Monday. He’ll be here tonight. He’s picking me up at six.”
“Have some fun, yeah?” She checks her phone, again. “Listen, I have to go, the plane leaves in a couple hours and you know how I freak out if I don’t have time to spare.”
She’s ridiculous. She wants to meditate before every flight. Says it calms her nerves before flying thousands of feet above the ground. Hey, whatever works to keep that sucker in the air.
“Fun. Got it.” I hug her. “Have a safe flight and text me when you get there.”
“I will, and tell Jennings I said ‘hey.’”
“Love you, Holls.”
“You too.”
“Cupcake,” Oliver saunters over to me on the courtyard right outside the science building. His swagger is something that cannot be missed. Every head within a hundred foot radius turns to watch him walk my way. Women and men. Yeah…
“Oliver.” I adjust my sunglasses for the tenth time. They keep falling off my nose.
“What are you doing tonight?”
“I have a friend coming into town. Why? What’s up?”
He shrugs his shoulder and moves his textbook from one hand to the other. “Lark is having a party tonight and I thought we could hang.”
“You want to hang…with me?”
He’s walked me to my car the past couple of days after class but that’s about it. I still feel weird for opening up to him the way I did last weekend. It was so unlike me. Well, I guess that’s not true. Jennings somehow got me to open up, but I thought that was just him being him. He has this magical power over me and my mouth.
And, yes, I’m aware that sounded dirty.
“Sorry, buddy.” I pat his shoulder and he swats at my hand. “I’m actually meeting up with Lark after class.”
“You are?” He sounds skeptical.
“Yup. Should be loads of fun,” I say sarcastically.
He hums. “So, when does your friend get into town?”
“Uh, I should know that answer, but I don’t. He’s picking me up later.”
A mischievous look comes onto his face and I don’t know if I like that particular look or not.
“He, huh?”
&
nbsp; I let out a little laugh. “Yes—Dad. Is that okay with you?”
Oliver looks down at his watch and slings his arm around my shoulders, forcing me to move toward the building. “Depends. Will you be home by curfew?”
I stomp my foot as we walk and make myself trip a little bit but Oliver keeps a firm hold on my shoulders, steadying me. Acting like a stubborn teenager isn’t easy when you’re walking. Either I was never good at it, or I’m getting old. “But—but,” I stutter, acting silly. “Can you push it back an hour? Puhleeease?”
Oliver pokes me in the side, snickering. “Fine. As long as you quit whining.”
I do a hop. “Yay! You’re the best.”
Letting me go, he opens the door to our class and winks. “Oh, you have no idea.”
I slap his tight stomach as I pass him and shake my head, grinning all the way to our seats.
“You’re really going to meet Lark?” Oliver asks apprehensively, sticking his hand in his tattered jeans as he walks me to the coffee shop. People eye us as we walk together and I try to hide my awkwardness. I’m not good with being the center of attention. And until a couple weeks ago, they couldn’t care less about me. I’ve caught the friendship of Oliver Adams and now I’m basically a fish in a bowl, looking out while people pass by and wonder why the hell this gorgeous, rebellious guy has found a friend in boring, plain me.
Hell, I’m still trying to figure it out.
I knew the moment he walked into Larks room he’d be trouble. Not that I don’t like trouble. Trouble is usually fun and exciting. But, there was something about him, something I couldn’t pinpoint that made me antsy. He’s got this familiar quality and I can’t put my finger on what exactly it is.
Then he turned into douche-face and pissed me off and I wanted him to leave and kick rocks.
“Yeah, I am.” We look both ways and cross the busy street that takes us straight to the coffee shop I’m supposed to meet Lark at.
“You want me to stick around?”
I ended up telling Oliver the condensed version of what happened with Lark and me. He was there for a good portion of it, so I’m sure he could fill in the blanks where he saw them.
We’re in front of the shop now, and I stop, taking my Ray Bans off. Taking ahold of his upper arm, I smile at the gesture. “No, I’ll be okay.”
He flexes his arm muscles and wiggles his eyebrows. I huff and let go, but not before letting a giggle out. He might be ridiculous, but I like the laughter he’s brought into my day-to-day life.
Lark knocks on the window from inside and waves at me while nodding to Oliver.
“Right then,” Oliver says. “See you Monday?”
“You got it. Have a good weekend.”
He scoffs. “Oh, I plan on it.” Innuendo unmistakable in his tone.
“Shut up.” I push him. “Get out of here.”
He skips off of the curb, back onto the street and waves, turning his mouth up into that familiar smirk.
I sneak one more look at him and turn for the door.
I wiggle my fingers at Lark when I see him and point to the counter, telling him I’m going to order but he lifts up a second cup of something and I make my way to his table instead.
Lark stands as I approach and opens his arms up for a hug. I go to him because it feels like a knee-jerk reaction. The moment his solid arms wrap around me, I inhale his slight cologne and grass smell. Cupping the back of my head, Lark takes a deep breath, not wanting to let go.
I’m the first to initiate breaking up our hug and Lark reluctantly pulls away, looking more forlorn than I’ve ever seen him.
Taking the spot across the table from him, I wait for him to sit.
“Thank you for the drink,” I offer; setting it down in front of me, playing with the water ring it left behind.
“Why haven’t you answered my calls, Whitty?”
Guess we’re jumping right into it, then.
I take a deep breath and focus on not getting upset with him.
“Lark,” I start. “You have to understand that what happened isn’t about you. Not at all. And when you made it all about you, it pissed me off.” That was nice, right?
“I know.” He scrubs his hands down his face and swallows hard. “I’m sorry. I was just happy that we were getting more time together. You were going to go off and graduate and leave me.”
He has no idea.
“If you cared for me at all, Lark, you’d let me go. I don’t want to stay trapped in college forever.”
He gives me a fake smile, one I know he uses when he’s masking his emotions. I recognize it because I’ve used it on him countless times.
“I know you don’t. It was stupid of me to act that way. It was selfish and egocentric. I shouldn’t have done it.”
Ain’t that the truth?
“And,” he goes on. “I want you back.”
Stunned, I stall and bring my drink to my mouth.
“ARE YOU IN TOWN?”
“Yup,” I say, falling into my couch at my house. “Just got home.”
It’s not a lie. I just walked into the house from dropping Whitley off with Lark.
Omission. That’s what it is.
“Oh. So, you had a good flight?” Whitley asks.
Shit. Okay, no more telling the truth through omission. It’s time to lie through my teeth.
“Had a bit of turbulence, but for the most part it was uneventful.”
Annnd, you’re a dick.
“Holli left today to shoot in Vancouver,” she says.
“Nice. I know she said something about that last time I saw her, but she didn’t know when.” I imagine Whitley by herself in the house and my muscles tense. “You’re going to be alone in the house. Will you be okay?”
The moment the words leave my mouth, I know the answer. I’m sure she’s rolling her eyes at my anti-feminist outlook.
I just—worry about her. I don’t know why I worry, but I do.
“I think I’ll be good. Thank you. Plus, this isn’t the first time I’ve had to be here all by myself.”
Just when I thought she’d give me a smart-ass answer about me being a caveman, she lets a big opening breeze by.
She does sound sad, though. Almost like she doesn’t want to be alone, but she has too much pride to admit she doesn’t like it.
“You don’t need a big, strong man to protect you?” I jest.
She snickers. “When you find one, let me know.”
“Ooo, that hurts, Cab Girl. Straight to my heart.”
“You’ll live,” she laughs.
“Maybe. Hopefully. We have a date tonight, you know? I gotta stay alive for at least that long.”
“A date, huh? Sounds scandalous.”
Playing with the ring on my right hand finger, I fight a smile. “Very.”
“What are we doing, anyway?”
I planned to take her to my favorite seafood place down by the pier. It’s low-key and we should be able to stay out of the paparazzi’s grasp.
“Nope. Just get dressed. I’m coming over now.”
“What?!” she screeches. “Jenns, I’m not even at home yet.”
“Get your ass home, pretty lady. We’re going out.”
“You’re an ass, you know that?”
I do. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you soon.”
“Wait!” Whitley stops me before I hang up.
“Yes?” I smile to myself.
“Are you really coming over right now?” She sounds timid and it makes me all the more anxious.
I chuckle to myself. “Yes, Whit. I’m coming now. I always mean what I say.”
She sighs and I swear I can hear her smile. “Okay.”
“See you soon.”
“Jenns?”
“Hmmm?” I scratch my eyebrow and check the time on my watch.
“Thank you.”
I have no damn clue what she’s thanking me for, but I don’t ask. Her statement holds a lot more than just a superficial ‘thank you.’ It me
ans more. I don’t know if I’m ready to hear why.
“Get ready, already,” I prompt, laughing, now.
She snickers and hangs up.
It’s easy to talk yourself into something. The build up in your head is never what you think. Every thought, every scenario, those usually seem like a cakewalk—until those scenarios and thoughts actually become reality.
Take for instance, acting. It seemed like a no-brainer. I was decent in school, so I should move to California and become an actor, right? I thought I’d snap my fingers and it would happen. Sort of like The Secret. Remember that book? Put something out into the universe and somehow that something will happen.
I call bullshit.
Nothing is that easy. Nothing worth getting takes work. Hard work. Bloody knuckles, sweat dripping, heart-racing work. It’s not a walk in the park. It’s a sprint over hurdles around Central Park, while gasping for air.
That’s how acting was for me. It took perseverance and patience. I didn’t get what I wanted right away. I got told “no” again and again, and I didn’t give up. I didn’t let the naysayers get in the way of my goals.
But, with Whitley, I’m my own hurdle. A naysayer, if you will. I’ve sabotaged the relationship before it began. I’m already lying to her. And it’s breaking me down, little by little. Every small fib, every tiny white lie, I break a piece of my conscience away. I’m not who I want to be. I don’t want to be this person. I’m not a liar.
I have zero choice in the matter. I can’t seem to stay away from her and when the time comes and Whitley finds out who I really am, losing her will be my punishment. I’ll take it gladly. That bitter shot of alcohol will be what I deserve. I didn’t ask for this, but I chose it. I chose to let her into my life. I gave her a helping hand in this madness. And even though I’ll feel like shit when the time comes, I’m too selfish to let her go. I want her in all of my lives.
Now, with Oliver? I don’t know how she’ll exactly fit in, yet. She likes him. It’s hard not to think otherwise.
Anyone but Him Page 14
