Keep Me Still

by Caisey Quinn

  “Sounds great,” I say with a smile. At the very least, maybe Skylar and I can be pathetic together.

  “Why are you avoiding Skylar?” I ask Corin once the guys have branched off away from us. She and I have Psych 101 together, so at least I can get answers from her.

  “What do you mean?” She twists a curl around her finger but doesn’t look at me.

  “I’m just trying to figure out why Skylar and I, who barely know each other, were maintaining most of the conversation this morning, while you and Landen tried to pretend we didn’t exist.”

  Huffing out a huge breath, she lets go of her hair and shifts her bag on her shoulder. Her face is scrunching, and I almost want to tell her she doesn’t have to explain anything to me. When she speaks, her voice is low as if she thinks someone nearby is eavesdropping. “Layla, you and I are pretty much opposites in every way. You’re a virgin and back in the day, I was…not. Like, pretty much any guy who looked at me twice got lucky. I was a sure thing, you know?”

  No, I didn’t know. Shame practically radiated off her. “Oh,” was all I could manage.

  “Sorry for the TMI, but I’m past that now. I’ve been through a lot of shit—shit no one should ever have to go through alone. And coming here, I told myself I wouldn’t just jump in bed with the first guy who paid attention to me. Because I can tell you, a one-night stand is not, in fact, the start of a healthy relationship. So I’m closed for business…indefinitely.”

  She seems embarrassed and a little lost, not a look I’m used to seeing on her, so I link my arm through hers and lean in close. “You’re closed for business and I’m trying to get laid. Who’d have guessed?”

  Corin cracks up, and several people turn to look as we file into Baker Hall.

  “Seriously, Corin, I think that’s awesome. You do what you have to do for you, okay? And if Skylar pressures you, I’ll find that hitman app on my phone and have him taken out.” I wink and she smiles.

  “I’m afraid once he knows he’ll blow me off, and he’s kind of fun to hang with. Guess I’m not ready to send him running for the hills yet.”

  “Can I ask a question?” I ask, lowering myself into the seat next to her.

  “Shoot.”

  “If you’re celibate, why all the condoms?”

  She smiles a sad smile that makes me feel helpless. “A gift from my mom, in case I fall off the wagon, or mattress I guess. She doesn’t have a whole lot of faith in me.”

  “I have faith in you, Corin,” I tell her. As the lecture begins and we open up our blank notebooks to copy words from the PowerPoint presentation a balding man is giving, I can’t help but wonder if Landen and Corin aren’t all that different. But then I remember his nod at that girl on the sidewalk this morning. A heated wave of insecurity seeps into my skin. Maybe he isn’t turning over a leaf. Maybe he’s still sleeping with anyone he wants to. Maybe he just doesn’t want to with me.

  “Corin totally ignored me this morning. I am definitely hitting the showers before we pick them up.”

  Smirking at him, I let out a small noise of disagreement. “Maybe she’s not impressed with your mad skills. Maybe a shower won’t even help.”

  “Uh huh, says the guy falling over himself to get to a girl who is never going to give it up.”

  Skylar and I give each other shit all the way back to the dorm after practice. I need to go for a run, exhaust myself so I won’t have any energy left for lusting after the girl I’m supposed to be playing it cool with. But they’re waiting, and if I want to shower, there’s not really time.

  Lazy piece of shit , my father’s voice says in my head. And dammit, I’ve at least got to get a short run in. I tell Skylar so and he looks at me like I’m insane. Which I am.

  An hour later, we pick up the girls and they climb into the backseat of the truck cab. Neither of them says much, and Skylar fills the silence talking about practice and what a dickwad Blackburn is. Twice I catch Layla’s stare in my rearview, but she’s blocking me out, and I’m not sure what has her so guarded. No, that’s not true. I was a dick this morning, and now I’m getting a taste of my own medicine. Fair enough.

  Target is kind of crowded for a Monday night, but I guess a lot of freshman are without AC and probably some other shit they should’ve brought. Corin and Layla debate on what type of fan to get for fifteen minutes before Skylar gets frustrated and grabs an oscillating floor fan from the shelf.

  As we leave the store, rain starts misting from the sky while Skylar and Corin argue about whether we should get Mexican food or run by the diner closer to campus where she’s planning to put in a job application, leaving me and Layla straggling behind.

  “You still want me to come tomorrow or what?” Layla demands, breaking the silence.

  “If you want.”

  She aims a pointed look dead at me. “I asked what you wanted.”

  “I mean, I’m sure you have studying and better stuff to do than come watch a scrimmage. It’s not like it’s a real game or anything.”

  “Okay,” is all she says. I don’t know if she means “Okay, I’ll come” or “Okay, I have better things to do.” What I do know is that watching her putting up the walls I worked so hard to tear down sucks. Bad. There has to be a way to balance keeping an eye on her for her aunt, getting close enough to have a chance at making her mine, and never letting her find out exactly how I wound up here. I sure as fuck wish I could figure it out.

  The rain pelts us with the fury of ten hells as we reach the truck. Damn, I don’t have bed cover to keep the fan dry. Probably not a great idea to shove it in the back with the girls, but there’s really not any other option, and we’re all getting soaked while trying to figure out what to do with it.

  “I’ll run back in the store and buy a tarp,” Skylar says just before making a mad dash through the parking lot. The girls climb in the back, and I’m grateful Corin didn’t go with him. I need the buffer before I just start spilling my guts to Layla and ruin everything.

  The two of them are talking quietly; heads leaned together like girls do when sharing secrets. Or when talking about what a dick you are while you’re a foot away. I climb in the truck and arrange the huge box on the passenger seat.

  “Everything okay?” I ask, twisting around to look at them.

  Wearing matching masks of innocence, they turn to me, wide-eyed. “Everything’s great,” Corin says sharply. “We’re going to the diner so I can get an application and Layla can get a milkshake. Skylar can get over it.”

  “Okay,” I say with a shrug. Layla and her milkshakes. I smile at the thought, and I cringe slightly because watching her pleasure over her chocolate shake with extra cherries is going to be hell on my dick. A three-hour practice and a three-mile run did nothing to quench my need for her. I glance in the rearview and there’s a mischievous heat in her eyes, like she can read my thoughts. Skylar’s right. I am so screwed.

  My overly observant roommate pulls the door open, interrupting my thoughts, and grabs the fan. I get out to help him wrap it in the blue tarp he just bought. Once we’ve wrangled that bastard into the bed and gotten back into the truck, the rain eases up. I pull out of the parking lot and look both ways as I get back on the main road that takes us back to campus.

  Up ahead I can see the gridlock, and I rack my brain as I press the brakes to try and think if there’s a back road to the diner. Skylar’s from here, so I ask him if there’s another way we can go.

  Before the words are even all the way out of my mouth, the clouds let out and sheets of water pound down on us. The poor fan is probably destroyed, tarp or no tarp. Or at least the box will be.

  “Damn,” Skylar says under his breath. “I’m thinking you could take Langston over to—”

  But he doesn’t get to finish because the squeal of tires drowns him out. The sickening crunch of metal comes at t
he exact moment of impact. Layla’s scream matches Skylar’s “Fuck!” and I slam the truck in park and bail over the seat, nearly tackling Corin in my attempt to get my arms around Layla. She’s trembling hard and I know what’s coming. And that she’s going to be humiliated. Because this was her chance to start over and it’s ruined. Ruined because of me.

  “You’re okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe,” I say into her ear, rocking her gently. Raking my eyes over every inch of her to make sure she is, in fact, okay, I realize that it’s me who’s not okay. I love her and I need her and I need to be there for her as much as I need to breathe air to live. Also, I’m bleeding.

  A few minutes later, her trembling subsides as tears slick down her face and onto me. I hear sirens. Skylar has a small gash on his forehead and Corin is rubbing her neck but they’re okay. I glance out the back window and see a tan Suburban jammed into the back of my truck. But I don’t care. We’re okay. Layla is in my arms and she’s safe.

  “You need to get back in the driver’s seat,” Corin says softly, “before the cops think something majorly shady is going on.”

  She’s right, but I can’t let Layla go. I look down into her moist blue eyes, pulled in by her need for me, and I can’t move. I don’t want to. They can think what they want.

  “Fuck it,” Skylar says, sliding over into the driver’s seat.

  Without another word, Corin climbs over the center console and buckles herself into the passenger seat, leaving me and Layla alone in the back.

  “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry,” I tell her, and her eyes grow even wider in her pale face. And I am sorry. For leaving her last year, for not trying harder to tell her how I felt, and for being here under false pretenses that she doesn’t know about.

  “Not your fault,” she murmurs, tucking herself closer to me.

  I can feel her breath on my neck, and this is so not the time, but I lower my lips to her forehead and then to her wet cheeks before placing them against hers. When she moves her mouth firmly against mine, I realize I’ve been fooling myself if I think the only reason I’m here is because her aunt asked me to keep an eye on her.

  I’m here because I needed a second chance. She gave me one this past weekend, and I screwed it up by being a first-class asshole this morning. And now I need a third chance. I hope to hell there’s not a limit on the number of chances this girl is willing to give me. Because I am a fucking idiot. And I’m going to screw up. A lot.

  The police officer raps on the driver’s side window and I flinch. For one dark and terrible moment, I’m back there. My life trickling out onto the concrete. Sirens and flashing lights. A man in uniform leaning over me and saying, “She’s okay—she’s alive .”

  But I kind of wasn’t. Or at least I wished I wasn’t. And then I never figured out how to come back to life afterwards. Not really.

  Landen holds me and rocks me and pulls me out of the darkness. Like he did at Homecoming. Like he did when two sophomores got into a fight next to my locker and again when fireworks went off unexpectedly after a football game and I nearly seized out in front of the whole school. He holds me and keeps me still. Like he always has.

  I’m cold, abnormally cold, and I know if he lets go I’m going to go into shock. I thought I was past needing him, needing anyone. But as he holds me and grazes his lips across my forehead, mumbling over and over that it’s okay and I’m okay…I know I’m not. I am the opposite of okay because I need him. I need him so badly and he’s already left me once. I reach a hand up to touch the scar I got the day my parents were killed, but his grip is too tight for me to reach.

  After giving the police our IDs for the accident report, the overeager medics make us all go to the university medical center and get checked out. Skylar gets a whopping two stiches in his forehead. Corin and I leave with matching pain pill prescriptions for whiplash.

  Landen was actually injured the worst. He has a huge cut on his forearm that took eleven stitches. Plus a steering wheel-shaped bruise already forming on his chest since the rear impact didn’t set off the airbag. But he never once complains. The whole time we’re getting seen he never goes out of arm’s reach, even though the resident checking us out tried to make him get an x-ray without me. Stubborn ass that he is, he refused. I’m going to feel horrible if he has a broken arm or something.

  Since Landen’s truck was towed to a local body repair shop, and the ambulances drove us to the hospital, we have to take a cab back to the dorms.

  “Well, this was a hell of a first day,” Skylar says as we get out at mine and Corin’s dorm.

  I smile at his joke, but I’m panicking. If, no, when Landen leaves, I don’t know how I’m going to face Corin and explain my not-so-little freak out. I’m so tired and hollow it’s as if the entire universe is pressing down on me. Landen’s the only thing keeping me vertical right now.

  I slip my hand into his and he squeezes tight.

  “Corin, would it be okay if, um, Landen stayed in our room tonight?” Before she answers, I realize I should’ve checked with him first. His body tenses at my words and I feel stupid for assuming. “I mean, if you don’t mind,” I say to him.

  “It’s cool with me,” Corin answers before Landen can respond. “But don’t athletes have to check in or something at curfew?”

  “Yeah we do,” Skylar informs us. “But I can call Dean or Mike and tell them what happened.”

  “Do that,” Landen says, squeezing my hand again and pulling me closer. And the bone chilling cold that settled into me dissipates, replaced by warmth radiating directly from his touch.

  Because he felt me shivering, Landen insists I take a hot shower when we get into our room. Even though the AC still isn’t working and none of us thought to salvage the fan. As I step out of the steam-filled bathroom in my robe, I can tell they were talking about me by how quickly they fall silent. Landen and Skylar are sitting on the futon, and Corin’s in the desk chair. Her face is flushed, but it’s nothing compared to the raging inferno in Landen’s bloodshot eyes.

  “Guess the freak’s out of the bag,” I mutter, crossing into the bedroom to put on pajamas. I grab a gray t-shirt and matching pink and gray shorts and slam the dresser drawer. Why can’t I just be normal? Maybe I should just let go of any hope I had left of having a normal life. Tears pinch my eyes, and I kind of wish I hadn’t asked Landen to stay so he wouldn’t have to see me like this.

  “Hey.” Landen’s deep voice, heavy with exhaustion, startles me. I flinch as he slides the partition between rooms shut behind him.

  “Hey,” I answer, avoiding his stare.

  “Please don’t be mad. I didn’t tell them everything. Just that you have a condition and that what happened in the truck could’ve been a lot worse. Corin really needs to know, Layla. She’s your roommate for God’s sakes.”

  “I’m not mad at you,” I tell him, and surprisingly, it’s the truth. “I just wish I didn’t have to be like this.” My voice breaks at the end and Landen crosses the room to put his arms around me.

  “You are perfect. You’re the strongest person I know,” he says to the top of my head.

  “How can you say that?” I ask as the tears begin to fall “I’m damaged, defective, like there’s a glitch in my brain or my wiring or something.” The tears fall faster, and I’m angry, but not at him, not really. “You should be with someone normal, someone who doesn’t fall apart at loud noises, screeching tires, and cars backfiring.”

  “Layla,” he tries to break in but I’ve broken the dam and I can’t stop the pain from flowing out of me and onto him.

  “Do you have any idea what it feels like to come to in a room full of people staring at you in horror and have no idea what kind of humiliating spectacle you just made of yourself? How shame slams into you as you realize you’re thirteen, or fourteen, or hell, seventeen years old and you just
pissed yourself for everyone to see? It takes everything I have to walk down the street, to enter a crowded room, and not run out because I know it could happen at any moment and I can’t really control it.”

  “Stop. Listen to me. Tonight was my fault. Do understand that? I was trying to find a side street to avoid traffic and I was distracted and—”

  “No, Landen.” I shake my head. “No. It was pouring rain, and it was a freaking fender bender. Any other human being would’ve been fine.”

  “I don’t want any other human being. I want you.” His eyes are full with heat and blazing into mine as he backs me up against the wall between the beds.

  “Why?” I choke out over my stupid, shameful sobs. “Why in the world would you want me?”

  He tilts his head, looking at me as if I’ve asked a ridiculous question as he takes a step closer. “Why in the world wouldn’t I want you? Jesus, Layla. I’ve always wanted you, since that first day. Not a minute has passed since the first time I laid eyes on you that I haven’t wanted you. Needed you. I will always want you. Even if I screw this up so badly you stop wanting me back.” His name escapes my lips just as he covers my mouth with his.

  The need in his kiss shatters me. Breaks me apart and puts me back together again all at once. Pulling him to me and pushing myself at him, I taste my tears on his lips. When his mouth leaves mine, I cry out, but his breath is warm on my neck as he opens my bathrobe. A spasm rocks my body into him and he groans, sending heat flooding through me. His flaming dark eyes take in my exposed body, and I drop the pajamas I was holding onto my bed. His fingertips skim the bare skin of my arms, raising chillbumps all over my body.

  “I never should’ve left,” he whispers, dropping to his knees and throwing my world off its axis. “Why did you let me leave?”