I rip all three of them open quickly, like removing a Band-Aid. I shuffle the letters side by side and decided to read the first sentence of each letters. That’s all you need, right? They’re either sorry or they’re congratulating you.
“Dear Taylor Thompson, we’re happy to announce…” I read aloud to no-one. I toss that one down and pick up the next and the next.
All three of them were welcoming me to the university. In my hand I have the power to move hours away from this town without looking back.
I shove them in the envelopes and place them under my bed, hoping Hayze would never look there.
I lay back, resting my head against my crossed arms, looking at the ceiling. I don’t know what to do with this. I can’t exactly celebrate. This means leaving everything I know, all of my family, and possibly the only guy I ever loved.
I study the ceiling above me. When the front door opens and closes, I had decide there are one hundred and seventy-four popcorn designs lining the dated ceiling of our apartment.
Hayze knocks on my closed door before entering. “What are you doing in here?”
“I was gonna change, but laid down and fell asleep,” I say.
He smiles, satisfied with my lie, and lays down beside me. “You survived without me.”
“You sound surprised; I’m offended.”
I stand from the bed and walk to my closet. I pull my shirt off and let my jeans hit the floor. I chose the closest shirt and tug it on.
When I walk out, Hayze isn’t in my room, but his bedroom light is on. I walk over and stop at the door. I lean against the door frame, watching him.
He is beside the bed, pulling his clothes off. I love watching him when he doesn’t know I was there. I can tell a lot about him as he does quirky things he wouldn’t do in front of people. He folds his shirt to perfection and lays it on the dresser, then he does the same with his pants.
I always studied the stray numbers under his chest. I’d never worked up the courage to ask what they meant. The ink splaying down his arms, added to his story and I knew that one was set aside for a reason.
“You enjoying the show?” He asks and I jump.
“You scared me,” I say, slapping my hand across my chest.
I walk over and stand before him. His arms circled around my waist, and I place mine on his chest as my thumb strokes the soft ink under his left peck.
“What is this?” I ask.
“It’s a date,” he deadpans.
“I figured that, but what is it?”
He sighs, “It’s the day I lost hope in my dad.”
Falling on the bed, he crawls to the top, fixes the pillow the way he wants, then lets his body relax. I sit beside him, rubbing his back.
“I didn’t mean to over step my bounds,” I say, regretting what I’d asked.
“You didn’t. I just don’t like talking about that shit, you know that.”
“Sometimes I think I don’t know a lot about you,” I say.
He turns to his side and throws his arm around my thighs. “You may not know every story, but they all start the same and they end the same. There’s not much to know. You know everything that’s important.”
I don’t know how to respond, so I nod. “Do you think Lea’s okay?”
“I texted her. She said she’s fine, it was just a lot at first,” he says.
With his arms wrapped around me, I know this would be the time to tell him. We could be leaving together, or I could be leaving him behind. He should know either way. His breathing evens out, and I tap his shoulder.
“Hayze?”
“Yeah?”
My pulse spikes as I shuffle through my scattered thoughts, thinking of what to say.
“Taylor?” He asks, his voice was thick with sleep.
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I’ve missed my perfect opportunity. If I tell him now, it would sound like I’d made my decision, that I was leaving without him.
Panicked, I swing my leg over him and straddled his waist. Needing him to not say a word, I press my lips to his. But I can’t silence my thoughts, they are screaming at me. I feel his hands under my shirt, touching my stomach, and moving to my bare chest. Finally, he jerks the shirt over my head as if he couldn’t stand it being on me any longer.
I kick my panties off and lean over him, completely naked. In the past, I would’ve covered up, but with him, I didn’t mind. My fingers trailed down his hard stomach and land on the band of his boxers. I pull them back and slide my hands down the front.
It doesn’t take anything on my part, he is ready for me. I slide my fingers around him then pulled his boxers down. I move up, lining us up together.
“Do you have anything?” I ask.
He swings his hand around, searching for the drawer. He returns with a small, foil package. He bites the corner, ripping the top off. He pulled the condom out and rolled it on.
I pushed down on him slowly. I bite my lip, hiding my face from him. Being on top is totally different, and I forget that every time. Once I’m used to the pressure, I push down until he’s all the way in. Slowly, I rock into him. With my hands pressed on his chest, my nails dig into his skin when I go down.
He pulls me down to him, kissing me tenderly. “You okay? Not that I’m complaining, but you’ve never been so…eager,” he says, his voice is strained.
“Never better.”
I move from his grasp, sitting straight up. He sighs, knowing I was upset, he doesn’t press the issue. He lays under me, watching as I worked him in ways I’ve never done. His hands rested on my waist, then snake up my body, squeezing my chest.
My mind is a million miles away, and I know I wouldn’t be satisfied by this. But I needed him, I need the distraction.
He taps my thigh, “Get on your back.”
“No, just stay like this,” I say.
Knowing what he needs, I lean forward, grasping the wooden headboard, and pick up my speed. I rock into him until I know I can’t go further. When I feel the condom fill inside me, I smile, knowing I did that to him.
Without another word, I go to the bathroom, clean up, and pull another shirt on.
When I come back in the room, he has disposed of the condom and is lying on top of the covers, clothed. I lay beside him, pulling the covers up to my chin, and I stare at the wall.
“Do you ever feel like leaving this town?” I ask.
He turns to face me, his face is unreadable. “I used to, but now I have a reason to stay.”
“If you could leave, and take me with you, would you?”
He thinks for a few minutes before answering. “If that’s what you wanted.”
“Would it make you happy?”
He nods, “Yeah, it would.”
With his amber eyes looking at mine, I almost crack. I need his approval, I am happy he would be on board with leaving if it came down to that. But still, I can’t find the courage to tell him I’ve applied for colleges behind his back. We weren’t together at that time, but I know it’d hurt him to know.
“That makes me feel better.”
He chuckles, “I don’t feel better; you were a million miles away tonight. Now you’re askin’ off the wall questions.”
“Tonight was stressful, I guess that’s what that was about,” I say, raising my eyebrows at him.
“See what I mean? You can’t even say sex, so when you climbed on me and rode me like a nympho, I was a little worried,” he says, grinning.
“You’re complaining? Well, it won’t happen again.”
His face falls. “Babe, I was kidding.”
“Sure,” I say, rolling my eyes, pretending to be serious.
“What’s up with the questions?” He asks.
I shake my head like a cartoon character, searching my brain for words. “Oh, um, it was nothing. Shea wanted to know if we wanted to go with her out of town on spring break,” I lie.
“All that for a Spring Break trip?”
I shrug, “I guess so. It’
s just two nights. Do you wanna go?”
He eyes me suspiciously. “Sure.”
I grab both sides of his face and press my lips to his before rolling over. If there was an award for worst girlfriend, I would get it. I know I should tell him. I just think it’s useless to get him upset if I don’t go to the universities. If we need to leave, I’ll tell him and he’ll go.
“That’s all you wanted to talk to me about?” He asks.
“That’s all.”
And a lie shall set me free.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Taylor
“Not too shabby,” Shea says, clinking her cup to mine.
I follow her gaze to the ocean. Sure it is nice to be off campus, but the brown waves crashing into each other, don’t appeal to me.
Propping on my elbows, I looked over my shoulder, finding Hayze on the balcony of the beach house. In an attempt to remove the sand, I wipe my body, but only made it worse. Spring is in full force on the Gulf of Mexico. The angry sun is beating down on me, burning my fair skin.
“Do Hayze and Grant know each other?” I ask, nodding to the house where Hayze and Shea’s boyfriend, Grant, have been for over an hour.
“We all met in high school,” she says. Chugging the rest of her drink, she sits it in the sand. “He never told you?”
I shrug, “I’ve never asked.”
“How long are you guys staying?” She asks, changing the subject.
“We’re leaving tomorrow.”
She frowns, “I wish you could stay longer.”
“Hayze’s brothers are coming in. They’re having a big dinner at his mom’s house.”
Nodding, she walks to the beach, sticking her foot in the water, she shrieks. “It’s freezing! Get out here.”
I stand, wiping sand off me. I walk to the water, dodging the rising tide. I don’t want to be deep in water where I can’t see my feet.
“This is as far as I’m going,” I say.
I hear a car nearby, turning, I shield my eyes from the sun. Hayze is talking to Grant, paying no mind to the visitors trailing up the stairs.
“Who’s that?” I ask.
Shea looks around me, smiling. “Some friends we invited.”
Four girls and one guy reached the balcony. When they find Grant, the girls throw their arms around him, while the guy introduces himself to Hayze.
As the girls talk to the guys, they begin pulling their cover-ups off, tossing them to the side. They sit on the lounge chairs, pulling them close to Hayze. He looks up, finding me watching, and he begins to walk down the stairs.
“Is everything alright?” Shea asks.
“I’m not sure,” I say, honestly.
“I’ll tell them to leave.”
I smile, silently thanking her for the gesture. “It’s not them. Things have been off.”
“I thought everything was fine, what happened?”
“Nothing really happened. I guess I’m just waiting for something to happen, if that makes sense. This thing with Joel has us both on edge…There’s other stuff, I guess that’s the main one,” I say.
With Hayze approaching, she wraps her arms around my shoulder and squeezes. “Whatever it is, you’ll come out of it. You guys always do,” she says with a smile.
“You enjoying the beach?” Hayze asks, snaking his arms around me.
“It beats being in class,” I reply.
He kisses the crook of my neck and steps around, facing me. “Did she tell you she invited them?” He asks, looking over my shoulder.
“Not a word.”
He groans, “More people will be here tomorrow.”
“We’ll be gone.” I step on my toes, planted a kiss on his mouth, then walk toward the house.
“I don’t wanna leave early,” he says, catching up with me.
Smiling, I grasp the wooden railing as I run up the stairs. “You promised your mom we’d be over for dinner.”
“Don’t remind me,” he huffs.
“We have to go. Your whole family will be there,” I say.
“All the more reason not to go.”
Shea points to us as we walk up. The guest watch me with curiosity. The brave one stands up, not attempting to cover her bikini clad body, walks over to me and sticks her hand out.
“I’m Noell.”
I take her hand, shaking it with displeasure. I’m not sure what I hate more about this girl, her striking confidence as she prances around the balcony with little clothing, or the way her eyes linger on my boyfriend.
“I’m Taylor.”
She playfully slaps Hayze’s arm, giggling. “That’s so sweet of you to bring your little sister. My brother would never let me tag along.”
A chorus of laughter breaks out behind her. Shea’s jaw drops and Grant’s eyes look between the three of us.
“Taylor’s my girlfriend,” he says, unfazed.
“My bad,” she says, laughing.
The guy with the group, walks over and politely smiles, apologizing for her behavior. “They’ve been drinking all day. I’m Adam.”
“It’s fine,” I wave him off.
Hayze takes his hand in mine and leads me into the house. We don’t have time to talk before the group follows us in.
One of the girls reaches around the couch and squeales as she emerged with a bottle. “I brought tequila,” she says, dragging out each word.
Shea walks over, joining us in the large, white kitchen. I take a seat on a stool, watching the girls take turns passing the bottle. All but one oblige.
“I didn’t know all those girls were coming. We invited Adam and his girlfriend, Kate, and apparently her sorority sisters invited themselves,” Shea explains.
I laugh, “Do I have resting bitch face? Why does everyone keep apologizing to me? Shea, I’m fine, really.”
“When Grant and I are fighting, the last thing I want is to be around a bunch of people.”
“We aren’t fighting. We’re gonna have fun tonight,” I say, looking at the girls. “I mean, look at them…They look fun.”
“That’s not the word I would use to describe them,” she says through bouts of laughter.
Hayze walks around the counter, and sits on the stool beside me. He props his elbow on the counter, leaning close to me. “Maybe we should go out for dinner?”
“I wanna stay with Shea,” I say. He sighs, clearly annoyed, but doesn’t argue.
“I didn’t know you guys went to school together,” I say, looking at the two of them.
“He actually went with Grant. I was a couple years behind them.”
“Are we gonna sit here and have small talk all night?” Hayze asks.
The girls crank the music up and began to dance. They grab the couple sitting on the couch, but they politely decline.
“Nope, looks like we’re about to get a show,” I say.
“Not happening,” he says. Before I can protest, I am dangling from his shoulders, looking at the floor.
“Hayze!” I squeal. The blood rushes from my head as he sits me right side up. He stands, watching me, waiting for me to dance to the music. “I can’t dance!”
“I remember. My feet haven’t healed.”
I cross my arms. “Then why did you throw me out here?”
He rests his right hand on my waist. “I want you to have fun.”
“I am having fun,” I say.
Not convinced, he shakes his head. “You’ve been like this for a week. What’s goin’ on?”
Noell walks up, dangling a cup in front of us. Seeing that she has been drinking all day, I try to let it roll off.
“We’re taking shots,” she announces.
“Are you guys sure that’s a good idea?” I ask.
With her thick brows bunched together, her unfocused eyes land on me. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
She loses interest in our conversation. Studying her drink, she drops a pill inside, splashing as it made contact. She takes a step back, her drink slo
shed with her movements.
I looked at Hayze, horrified. “Was that?”
“Taylor…”
I break from his grip and run to our room, shutting the door behind me. With no lock, I know at any second he’ll come busting through. Although I don’t remember the details, that night will stay with me forever. I know it hurts him, but I can’t hide my anxiety.
He knocks as he opens the door. I throw myself on the bed, hoping he won’t press with questions.
“You okay?” He asks.
“Yeah, it’s just…”
He cuts me off. “I know what I did.”
“It wasn’t you,” I say.
“I knew it would happen eventually.”
“What do you want me to say?” I ask, exasperated.
“That you forgive me.”
“I do! I forgave you months ago!” I point to the door. “Things like that just bring it back.”
“I want you to forget it even happened.”
“I don’t. It’s like a demented reminder, if we can get through that, we can get through anything,” I say and a brief smile shows on his lips.
The bed shifts as he sits beside me. I lean over, wrapping my arms around him as he rests his face in his hands. “Joel did that, not you,” I say.
“Then why did you leave me after it happened?”
“I was shocked…I knew something was off with you, but I didn’t know you did stuff like that. I mean, maybe I did and I just didn’t wanna believe it. Sometimes it freaks me out, if you could hide that big of a secret from me, what else could you be hiding? And what if you start all of that again? When I think about it, I just want to pack our stuff and get away,” I say.
“You think I’m hiding something from you? That’s what bothering you?”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” I say, waving him off.
“What is it?” He asks, stressing each syllable.
“It’s always at the back of my mind. So many screwed-up things have happened, I can’t help but worry and wonder ‘what if.’ You have these men following you around, convinced you did something to your roommate. And I can’t help but…Think about the past.”
His eyes go wide. He stands from the bed and I go after him. “You think I had something to do with it.”
“No! God, no! That’s not what I meant. I compare everything to the past.”
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