Hope

by Sydney Lane

  "Nothing? Is that what they're callin' it these days?" Never let it be said that I don't have any patience. If I didn't, Seth wouldn't still be standing in my room right now.

  "Drop it. Just... no." As he stands there, smiling at me, I feel the corners of my mouth rise, a grin trying to fight its way onto my face. "Out." I stand up, pushing him toward the door.

  "Dude, sometimes you gotta feed the body before you can feed the soul." His laughter follows him down the hall, leaving me to think about what he said. I fall back on my bed, staring at the ceiling, as I finally let the truth wash over me.

  Even though I loved every minute of that night, I can't let it happen again.

  I tell myself it's because I don't want to use Liza. I can almost convince myself it's because I'm not that kind of guy. But the truth is, I don't want Quincy to know. I don't want to see the disappointment on her beautiful face, and I don't want to hurt her.

  Someday, she's going to need me, and I'm going to be waiting for her.

  They say the truth sets you free, but my truth... it feels like a punch in the gut.

  Chapter 12

  Eliza

  In through the nose. Out through the mouth. In. Out. Breathe.

  My lungs feel like they're going to explode as I push myself harder, faster. Running is the best stress reliever known to man. I may not play softball anymore, but I still run every day. When my body is wired and my lungs scream for air, it's the only thing that makes me focus. There's something about the need for oxygen that can make you forget everything else.

  Yeah, well, it's not working today. If I could just run a little farther... my feet fall one in front of the other, pounding the concrete, faster, harder until... I can't. I stop, bending at the waist, my hands wobbly on my knees as I suck in deep, gasping breaths. My muscles burn, protesting the brutal punishment they didn't ask for.

  When I finally catch my breath, I walk to a grassy spot beside the track and fall backwards, landing on my already sore backside. Some days, I'm better at dealing but today is not one of those days. Since that night, the night with Declan, it's all been too close to the surface, simmering, threatening to boil over. All of the things I try so hard to forget.

  I lean back, my hands planted firmly in the soft grass behind me, and close my eyes. Taking several deep, calming breaths, I focus on the sun shining down on my face, just like I've read you should do. I allow myself to slip away, into another time and place.

  When I was happier. Stupid.

  I will not cry. I refuse to feel sorry for myself. Worse stuff happens to people all the time and they don't fall apart. They pick up, move on, they... live. And by gosh, that's what I'm trying to do. This is just a small bump in the road. I will be okay after today. I'm giving myself permission to feel like shit for one more day. That's it. One. More. Day.

  My internal dialogue is interrupted when the sun's rays are blocked, a shadow falling over me. It doesn't move. Goosebumps break out on my arms and legs as I realize that whoever is standing above me is most likely watching me, waiting for my reaction. Whoever it is isn't going away. Whoever it is must be tall to block out the sun. As realization dawns on me, my heart slams to a halt, and my eyes burst open. Shit. Shit. Shit.

  The first thing I see are long, tanned legs. Muscular legs. My eyes journey upwards, over the black athletic shorts to the shirtless, sweaty chest, to the amused smile of one Declan White.

  "Mind if I join you?" Out of breath and sweating, he plops down beside me, his long legs stretched out in front of him. I notice he didn't wait for my permission. "I was trying to catch up to you, but you left me in the dust. Going somewhere?" He turns to me, his dark eyes meeting mine. A lone bead of sweat forms, rolls down his face, and lands on his chest.

  I pick my chin up off the ground and look away. There's a park across the field, and I watch the kids there run and play. I would give anything to be one of them right now. Kids are blank slates, wild and carefree, and untainted by the world.

  I like to believe I was like that once.

  Declan's presence is really messing with me. Even I can't deny how stupidly hot he is. Hell, I can't even think straight. I never expected to see him again. I mean, I had it all planned out. I wouldn't go to parties at that fraternity house for the rest of the year, and I would start hanging out at Player's instead of Bliss. I had it all worked out, yet here he is, invading my space.

  It's only minutes but feels like an eternity before I speak. He silently waits, not pressuring me. My eyes still on the kids, I finally say, "Maybe I didn't want to be caught." The words come out harsher than I planned, but doesn't he see that I don't want him here? That it's killing me to have him see me like this?

  He shifts beside me, sitting up straighter. I don't have to look to know he's watching me. I can feel him trying to peel back my layers. "Is this about the other night? I don't want things to be awkward. I just-"

  "Look, I told you. I don't do this," I interrupt before he can finish, gesturing between us. My hand trembles before I let it fall to the grass.

  "Do what?" His face instantly transforms from concerned to amused, a mischievous smile on his perfect lips. "Talk to an incredibly hot guy at the track?" His smile hurts me. Really, really hurts. It's the kind of smile that makes you want to smile back but reminds you that you have nothing to smile about.

  Except, to my horror, the corners of my mouth twitch, and I find myself biting my bottom lip to keep from smiling.

  "Which hot guy?" I slowly look around the field and back to him before I lose the battle with my face. I'm smiling. Damn.

  "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" For the first time, I notice the calming quality of his voice, how he knows just what to say to make you relax. The dimples help.

  "What do you want, Declan?" It's time to shut this down. So what if he gave me an orgasm and made me smile? He has to go.

  "Who says I want anything? Maybe I just wanted to speak to the girl I shared my bed with a few weeks ago."

  "That's where you're wrong. We didn't share a bed. We hooked up. That's where it ended. It won't hurt my feelings if you act like it never happened. Promise." I push myself to my feet, my legs heavy with fatigue. I turn and begin running in the direction of my dorm. It's not long before I hear his feet pounding behind me as he comes up beside me, his stride matching mine.

  I concentrate on my breathing, the rhythm of my heartbeat, as I try to forget the boy next to me. We round the corner to McCarthy Hall, and I turn and bound up the stairs. I sling the door open, but he reaches out to slam it shut in front of me. Standing behind me, he reaches around my shoulders, closing me in with his arms. Despite the warmth of his lithe body pressing against my back, the whisper of his breath across my shoulder, and the delicious scent of sweat and pine, I feel panic, like bile, rising in my throat, choking me.

  Breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

  "Liza. That's where you're wrong. You say you don't do this, but what we did? I don't do that." Suddenly, his arms are gone, and I feel the loss of his warmth all the way to my toes. I stand, unmoving, staring at the door, until I hear his footsteps fade away.

  Chapter 13

  Declan

  That girl is insane. Not right. Psycho.

  I should've listened to Seth.

  Chapter 14

  Eliza

  My mom wants me to come home this weekend. It sounds so simple. Toss a few things in a bag, pack up my dirty laundry, throw everything in the car, and hit the road.

  Except nothing is ever as easy as it seems, especially for me.

  Driving back home feels like voluntarily driving head-on into a tornado. Everywhere I look is a reminder, and the closer I get, the more agitated I become. Every time I pass the sign welcoming me to Somerset, I feel as if the last drop of sanity I have in me is being squeezed out.

  On my infrequent visits, I have to drive past the high school and the softball field I loved so much. Sometimes, late at night, I jump out my bedroom window, for old times' sake, an
d walk to the field. Climbing over the fence, I walk to the pitcher's mound and remember. If I close my eyes, I can still hear the cheers, smell the aroma of freshly mowed grass, and feel the weight of a bat in my hands... I'll never play on that field again.

  Aside from my family and dog, there's nothing in Somerset for me.

  Hershey is our chocolate lab. Yeah, I know. The name isn't very original, but I was only eight when we got him. I can't think of many childhood memories that don't include Hershey. After everything happened, I remember lying for hours with him pressed against me, his big body comforting me. Even though he's only a dog, he knew exactly what I needed. I did have to stop taking him on runs with me, though. He got so protective, he would bark and growl at any man who got too close to me. Dogs. They know things.

  And then there's the family. This is where I should tell you how awful they are, how they didn't support me or show me enough love when I was growing up. But I can't do that. What I can tell you is how ashamed I am that I let them down. How truly sorry I am that I just couldn't be who they needed me to be. They deserved better.

  My two sisters are the best. If it's even possible, they love me too much.

  Love. It's that emotion that makes people do crazy things.

  Love is selfish. It makes you vulnerable. It opens you up, your heart splayed wide open, to another person. They wind themselves deep into the very essence of you until they become a part of you. Until one day, you wake up and realize you don't know who you are anymore. Or even worse, they wake up and decide you aren't what they need anymore.

  Love. You can hurt people, destroy their dreams, and it's all good as long as you do it in the name of love- the perfect excuse.

  I get so sick of everyone telling me they have my best interest at heart when all they want is for me to be who they thought I was. That girl doesn't exist anymore, and they can't love her into existence, no matter how hard they try.

  So, here I sit, my fingers hovering over my journal, pen in hand... unable to write a single word. I hoped, prayed, this day would come. The day when I didn't feel anything. Nothing. I lie back, resting my pad on my knees, and close my eyes.

  Emotionless, I drift into darkness. I'm not sure I like this new place I'm in. Not the darkness- we became friends a long time ago. It's the total and utter lack of feeling. I thought I would like it, but... I don't.

  Pain is apparently better than nothing.

  My mind suddenly starts spilling words so fast my fingers can't catch up. I don't even think as I write... and these are the words that rip me wide open.

  Hands

  on my body

  touching, squeezing

  taking, not giving

  hurting, not comforting...

  and I liked it

  it's what I knew

  until it felt good

  and all it took was one

  stupid, stupid

  moment

  that never should have been

  a whisper

  a stitch

  in time...

  and I hated it

  the way you made me

  feel

  so good it hurt

  I want you

  no I hate you

  leave, go, get away from me

  no

  no

  please... stay

  do it again

  take me away from here.....

  You spend your whole life building your walls, trying to protect yourself, and one careless night can change everything.

  Chapter 15

  Declan

  "Mornin', Liza." I catch up, matching my stride with hers, as she jogs around the track.

  "What? You stalking me now?" Her breath comes out in little puffs, more in irritation than exertion. She sets a quick, steady pace, one of an athlete. I don't know why I didn't realize it before now. Long, muscular legs, toned arms, flat stomach. The signs were all there, but I was too mesmerized by her tattoos and red boots to notice.

  But I'm noticing now. All I can do is notice.

  "Got nothin' better to do." I shrug.

  She's right. I totally stalked her. After seeing her at the track a few days ago, I came here looking for her. Her eyes, the sadness I saw there, it haunted me all week.

  So, here I am, running with a girl who doesn't care about me but might be the only person who gets me.

  "I don't care where you run, but don't mess with me." Her voice is harsh, but when I look over, she's smiling. It totally transforms her face. Gone is the solemn, empty stare, replaced by a stunning glimpse of something wonderful.

  I run in silence, enjoying the burn in my muscles, the air in my lungs, and the rhythm of feet hitting pavement. For those few moments, I get lost inside myself as I mentally prepare for the upcoming weekend.

  Eric and Jenna are moving into their new apartment, and I'll be expected to help. That's what brothers do. If someone needs something, we step in and get it done, even when you don't want to. Even when it means walking into the line of fire.

  That's what it always comes back to. It makes me mad at myself that I wouldn't want to help Eric just so I could avoid running into Brody and Quincy. How completely weak and stupid and immature it makes me feel. Pussy.

  I focus on breathing, reminding myself of the values my parents taught me. I wish I were only half as good as they think I am.

  Above all else, even love and trust, learn to forgive. Forgiveness doesn't excuse a person's behavior, but it will prevent it from destroying your heart. That one is from my dad.

  No matter how hard things may seem, you always have hope. Hope gives you reason to go on, even when you can't see it. That one is from my mom.

  Get drunk, bury yourself between a nice pair of thighs, and tell them to go fuck themselves. Oh, nevermind. That one's from Seth.

  I get so lost in my head, my feet pounding in unison with Liza's, that I don't notice when she begins slowing down. We stop at the same spot where I found her last week, and she falls backward, landing on the grass with a thud.

  I stand above her, breathing deeply, as my eyes wander over her body. The tank she's wearing exposes her tight abdomen while her shorts ride up to reveal the length of her legs. A tattoo peeks out from under her shirt, right below her ribs. There are more, I'm sure of it, decorating her body in just the right places.

  Catching my breath, I finally sit beside her, close but not too close. I watch her, wondering what the hell I'm doing when she so obviously doesn't want me here. Again, she closes her eyes, taking deep, calming breaths, like she's capturing the real beauty of the moment. With her face relaxed and turned up toward the sun, she looks totally at peace.

  We sit for several long minutes, not speaking, not even acknowledging each other, the silence comfortable yet strained. Finally, she shifts, turning toward me as her eyes find my face. I stare straight ahead while she studies me, allowing her those few moments inside herself.

  Slowly, she rises to her feet and with one last look over her shoulder, she jogs away.

  I shake my head and pick at the grass between my feet.

  Liza. Crazy or not, she's strangely fascinating.

  Chapter 16

  Eliza

  He's still driving me crazy.

  Every single day this week, he showed up to run with me. We stretch, we run, we cool down, and we leave.

  Jogging is my one true escape, a time when I can tune out my thoughts and not have to think about anything. It's something I've always done alone, even when I was on the softball team. Like my own personal haven.

  And yet... I don't ask him to leave. I don't try to avoid him.

  I show up every morning and run. With. Him.

  At first, it was weird, kind of uncomfortable and mostly annoying. My mind wouldn't shut down, and I couldn't get in my zone no matter how I tried. I'm not sure the exact moment it happened, but things just stopped being weird. I began to anticipate seeing him jogging toward me while I warmed up, our eyes connecting as he came closer to
me. Over the week, I got used to it- the feel of someone running next to me, the air between us carrying his scent, and the sounds of his deep breathing. I came to expect it.

  This morning, though, he didn't show up. I lingered, prolonging my warm-up while my eyes scanned the track for his dark head above the other runners. When my feet started moving, I refused to acknowledge the prick of disappointment churning in my stomach.

  It wasn't until my blood was pumping as I ran my second lap that I heard the familiar fall of footsteps behind me. And finally, I was able to retreat inside myself and relax.

  As usual, we ran in silence, but I was ever aware of him beside me. I ran hard, punishing my body for my mind's weakness, and when I finally collapsed on the ground, he fell beside me.

  He grabbed a bottle of water and gulped it down while I struggled to catch my breath. I watched his mouth move as the water slid down his throat, beads of sweat forming on his brow and rolling down his face. He pulled his shirt up and wiped his brow, his eyes finding mine. I struggled to ignore his probing, dark gaze and the racing of my heart. I tried to ignore the hard planes of his exposed stomach and the turmoil brewing within me.

  If I ignore it, it can't be real.

  And if it's not real, it sure as hell doesn't mean anything.

  "Who were you running with?" Corrine yells from her room, interrupting my thoughts. I clutch my journal against my chest, a tiny sliver of panic weaving its way through my chest.

  "When?" I clear my throat, stalling, as I try to remember if I saw anyone at the track, anyone who would have told Corrine they saw me with Declan.

  "Whit says she thought she saw you with someone while she was at cheerleading practice." I take a shaky breath and release it, relieved, because there's no way Whitney could've seen me clearly from the football field where the cheerleaders were practicing. I don't know why it matters, but it does. Declan's my dirty little secret.

  "Must have been somebody else." Without thinking, I lie easily. I'm a good liar. Not exactly an admirable talent but sometimes necessary.