He's Come Undone

by Weir, Theresa

  But nobody liked to be tricked. That was the truth. Once he knew what I’d done, he might never forgive me.

  I left the bed to stand beside him. He pulled me into his arms, and we clung to each other, just clung to each other, and it was the sweetest, most innocent thing, especially in light of everything that had just happened between us.

  “I’ve never met anybody like you,” he whispered, his forehead against mine. “That’s what I do know.”

  We finally untangled ourselves and he got dressed, but not without several pauses for more kissing and more touching and more looks of longing.

  “I wish we could just keep the door closed and stay in here forever,” I said. “Just the two of us.”

  He tugged his T-shirt over his head. “Me too.”

  “We’d order food delivered to the door, and we’d listen to music and read books and get old together.”

  I’d said too much. I was talking about a life together. What would he think about that? Crazy talk. We hardly knew each other. Correction. He hardly knew Ellie Barlow.

  He was in agreement about the lockup. “Just you and me.”

  He kissed me again—deep and with so much longing I felt tears spring to my eyes. Was this love? And was this how sex was between two people who were soul mates? Was this the thing I’d never understood until now?

  He left, both of us refusing to say the word goodbye.

  Chapter 16

  ~ Julian ~

  I didn’t remember driving to campus and parking my car, but suddenly I found myself stopped in front of a meter. I swiped a credit card, pocketed my wallet, and headed for Coach Rice’s office. At that point I noticed the day was getting warm, like the kind of day where you can still feel the cold of the night, but the sun is falling on the ground and illuminating the trees.

  Under my feet, the fallen leaves were deep in places, and the beauty of the moment suddenly made my heart hurt in a good way, and I knew this fresh awareness came with the arrival of Ellie in my life, because until this moment I hadn’t felt joy at being alive for a long, long time.

  As I walked, I wished I’d asked Ellie to come with me because I didn’t want to be away from her for even a few minutes. And in the back of my mind I had this weird feeling, this nagging worry that something bad would happen if I wasn’t careful. That I’d lose her when I’d just found her.

  But since my parent’s death, dark and fatalistic thoughts occupied my head, so I tried to tell myself that’s all it was. When bad and horrible shit happens to a person, when bad and horrible shit steps into your life, you can’t think about that pattern ever changing or ever getting better.

  Before my parents were killed, I never worried about anything. I never thought about the possibility of bad. But now I found myself worrying about Ellie. Like what if someone killed her? What if she left her apartment and got hit by a car? What if she got really sick, like seriously sick?

  Stop it.

  I paused in the middle of the sidewalk and pulled out my phone. I began typing a text to her, then paused, wondering what to say. I knew damn well what I wanted to say, but I knew damn well it was too soon, and I also wondered if I was maybe going a little crazy, or crazier.

  Because what I wanted to type was I love you.

  But people didn’t fall in love so fast. That kind of thing didn’t really happen, did it?

  What do you really know about her? I asked myself.

  Not that much. She was this person who’d appeared in my life, someone with no past and no future. No past and future yet revealed to me. That information was yet to be discovered. All I knew was that I wanted Ellie to be in my future.

  I miss you.

  That’s what I texted her. So sappy. So true.

  It was hard to believe that two weeks ago I hadn’t even known her, and now she filled me up. Just filled me up.

  My phone buzzed. I checked it. From Ellie.

  Nothing bold or earth shattering. Just a smiley face and I miss you too.

  I have to confess to hoping for more, because I miss you too seemed a bit canned, a bit cautious, but how could I blame her? Even though I couldn’t imagine not having her in my life or imagine what my life had been before Ellie, the truth was we’d only just met. I had to be careful. I didn’t want to freak her out.

  “You can’t skip any more meetings and practices,” Coach Rice said once I was face-to-face with him in his office.

  At the moment I didn’t give a shit about running for the school team, but I had the scholarship. I had an obligation.

  “I know,” I said, feeling genuinely contrite. “I won’t. I’ll be here.”

  “I want you to live and breathe running for the next three weeks. Nothing else should be on your mind, you understand? No drinking, no late nights, stick to your training diet, and keep your cock in your pants because I can see right now you have sex face. You’ve been drinking and fucking and sniffing around whores, so just stop it. Now.”

  “She’s not a whore.” I’d never had a reason to dislike him, but now I wanted to punch him in the face.

  “I don’t care what she is. Just cut it out. For a goddamn three weeks, until these big meets are out of they way. Then if you want to fuck like rabbits, have at it. But until then, stay away from her. If I have to have my assistant follow you around and babysit to make sure you stick to the program, I will. Another thing? No marathon. That’s against my rules. No events outside university meets.”

  I’d worried that he’d find out about the marathon, but he couldn’t stop me from participating, and my determination must have shown in my face.

  He blew up. “You want a marathon? You want a damn marathon?” he demanded, his face red. “Okay, get changed and give me twenty miles today. No argument.”

  I’d never run over 10K for him, 10K being the maximum distance in cross-country meets. I could see what he was doing. Trying to break me down so I wouldn’t be able to run the marathon.

  “Twenty or I’m writing you up,” he said. “Twenty or your scholarship’s in jeopardy. Get your ass out there.”

  I got my ass out there.

  There were established running courses in the Twin Cities, and I headed out on the major twenty-mile route that wound along the Mississippi to downtown Saint Paul, through the Saint Paul University of Minnesota campus, a campus I knew little about since its focus was agriculture.

  After five miles my legs were weak. I did a mental retread and realized I hadn’t eaten any real food for probably twenty-four hours. After seeing the shrink yesterday I’d gone straight to the bar. No food, then on to Ellie’s where I’d gotten a few hours sleep, but not real sleep. That, along with very little water. Not the way to prep for a short run, let alone twenty miles.

  Ten miles in, I got leg cramps from dehydration, and a side ache from who the hell knew what. Hunger, maybe. I spotted a bench and was about to collapse on it when I heard the sound of a vehicle pulling up beside me. The passenger window lowered, and then Coach Rice was looking up at me. “Don’t stop, kid. You got ten more miles.”

  Shit.

  I liked running because it wasn’t that much of a team sport. You could do it with the team, or you could run alone. And it wasn’t full of the testosterone of things like football. But Coach Asshole was quickly changing my mind about the sport.

  I kept going. If I didn’t slow down, I’d be done by evening. Then I could eat and collapse.

  Five more miles and I stopped, bent at the waist, hands on my knees, staring at the ground in front of me, ground that slowly tilted until I smacked right into it.

  Chapter 17

  ~ Ellie ~

  I pushed the red button at the entry to Charlotte’s dorm and waited for a reply, letting out a sigh of relief when she answered.

  “It’s Ellie,” I said. “I need to see you.”

  The glass door buzzed. I opened it, then held a foot inside while I grabbed two large black trash bags.

>   “Sure you don’t want me to go up with you?” Devon asked.

  I’d come clean and told him everything, and he’d given me a ride to campus so I could drop off the clothes the girls had bought. Some of the items still had tags on them, so they could easily be returned. The red dress and bra? Doubtful.

  “No, that’s okay. I have to walk to The Drink to get my bike anyway.”

  “Okay. I’ll be waiting at home with hair color.” He put a finger to his chin. “I’m thinking of going a little darker than your natural shade, what do you say?”

  “Whatever you think.”

  “Well, I was actually thinking lavender. But on the other hand, it might be best for you to get back to your real self.”

  I looked at him standing there in his skinny red jeans, black boots, and striped boat-neck shirt. “You’re amazing.”

  “I know.” He turned and hurried back to his car before someone came along to ticket him.

  I went inside. Up the stairs to the third floor.

  “I’m quitting,” I said as soon as Charlotte answered my knock. She was wearing gym shorts, a white T-shirt, no bra, and what appeared to be zero makeup. She was stunning.

  I walked into the room and dropped the bags on the floor. “Sue me, but I’m done. It’s over. All the clothes are here. Shoes, dresses, pants, Paige’s coat, everything. I can’t pay you back right now for the advance, but I will.”

  “You know,” Charlotte said. “I’d probably be okay with this, but I doubt the other girls will agree. We’ll have to take a vote. And Paige…Paige is going to be furious.”

  “Whatever she throws at me, I’m ready. I deserve it. I should have known better. I did know better.”

  She closed the door; it was just the two of us in the room. “What happened?” she asked.

  “I don’t think he’s the creep you guys think he is. I don’t know what’s going on, but I think he’s genuine.”

  “Oh, Ellie. So did we. So did we! You fell for him, didn’t you?”

  “Of course I did.”

  “Did you sleep with him?”

  I couldn’t lie. “Yes.”

  “And what was it like? Wait, don’t tell me. Amazing. I already know.”

  I was getting a sick feeling about this. I should have just left the bags at the door and ran. The last thing I needed to hear was how great he’d been.

  “Did you guys do it all night? And did he leave the next morning, then return with coffee, and you did it again?”

  A heaviness came over me.

  “You did, didn’t you?”

  No need to answer. She could see the truth on my face.

  “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry we dragged you into this. I didn’t think about how you’d fall for him. I was just thinking about getting him back. But I can tell you what’ll happen now. You won’t hear from him again. And in a day or two you’ll see him with another girl. And if you meet him face-to-face, he’ll smile at you and give you a nod. And you know what? That’s worse. Worse than if he just ignored you, because it means he remembers you but doesn’t care. Just doesn’t care.”

  She dropped down on the bed and began to cry. Charlotte, with her beautiful dark hair and her gorgeous skin and long legs and beautiful breasts. If he hadn’t been attracted to her, how could he possibly have been attracted to me?

  And even though I was hurting like hell, I sat down next to her and gave her a hug, at the same time never more aware of my ratty clothes and torn tights and scuffed boots. “I’m sorry.”

  She sniffled and rubbed the back of her hand under her nose, then looked at me with glistening eyes. “Thanks. You’re so sweet. I hope the girls don’t vote to sue you.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  I got to my feet. “Text if you need to get in touch with me,” I told her.

  I left the building, stepping out into the early afternoon. The air was turning cool again, and I could smell fall. For once, that smell didn’t make me feel better. Then I headed in the direction of home, where Devon would be waiting to transform me back into my old boring self.

  Chapter 18

  ~ Julian ~

  Cold water hit me in the face, and I came to with a gasp followed by choking to find Coach Rice standing over me with a bottle in his hand. “Get up, Dye. Get up and get your ass in gear before dark.”

  I rolled to my knees, then got slowly to my feet, swayed a bit, waited for the world to stabilize, then took off again.

  Five miles to go. Easy.

  Long-distance running is more about the brain than the body. The point always comes when you don’t think you can take another step, when everything is screaming, but then something happens. Probably the same thing that happens when people freeze to death. The pains stops and your body goes on autopilot. Lame description, but that’s how it is. You become this consciousness that’s just along for the ride. It’s a good place to be, and it’s the place I crave. Most of the time. If it doesn’t kill me.

  I wasn’t even aware of finishing.

  Once your body has been moving rhythmically for a long time, it’s hard to make it stop. It’s hard to get that signal from your brain to your legs.

  When I hit the twenty-mile mark, I kept going. Not with purpose, but with confusion, just this pathetic kind of limp-run, going in circles, trying to get my brain to figure out what to do next.

  A car stopped beside me. Coach Rice. I recognized him, knew who he was in relationship to me, but couldn’t place his purpose in this moment, on this street.

  “Go home,” he shouted to me from the car. “Go home and do fifteen miles tomorrow.” Then he took off.

  Home. I could do that. I knew where home was.

  I turned and headed that direction, distantly wondering where my car was, unable to figure it out, not caring to figure it out. My legs cramped when I tried to walk, so I jogged until I finally found my house and my door. No key. Where were my keys?

  I clawed at the door. It opened and I crawled inside and collapsed on the kitchen floor.

  This time I came around to find my sister bent over me, repeating my name. I blinked, tried to bring her into focus, tried to lift my head, and gave up.

  “I’m calling 911,” she said, her voice full of panic.

  “No.” It was supposed to be a shout. Instead, it came out a croak. “I’ll be okay. I need water. Food.”

  “My God, Julian.”

  She brought me a glass of water, and I scooted into a half-sitting position, my back to the wall. The room spun a little, but I tried to ignore it. I accepted the glass, my hand shaking like hell. Water splashed on my leg, but I finally got the glass to my mouth and swallowed. That was immediately followed by a need to throw up.

  I stumbled to my feet, ran to the bathroom, puked, then collapsed on the floor.

  Valerie had followed me, and now she stood in the doorway, arms crossed at her chest, worry lines between her eyes. And even when she wasn’t worried, those lines were there, thanks in large part to me. I felt bad about that, and like always, I tried to reassure her.

  “Get me some ice,” I said once she seemed a little less alarmed. “I have to start slow.”

  “How far did you run?”

  My brain was functioning a little better now. “Twenty miles.” Then I remembered that I’d run home too. “Twenty-three.”

  “Jesus, Julian. That’s too much, especially so near the marathon. You should be cutting back.”

  I staggered to my feet then launched myself in the direction of the living room and couch. I didn’t tell her about the coach, and I wasn’t sure I’d tell her about Ellie. Well, I would, but not about the last twenty-four hours.

  Ellie.

  I should call her. Text her. “Where’s my phone?”

  “I don’t know.” She handed me a bowl of ice and looked out the window. “I don’t even see your car. Where’s your car?”

  As I lay on the sofa sucking on ice, it all started com
ing back to me. “On campus.” Along with my wallet and phone.

  “You’re pushing yourself too much.”

  “I know.”

  Somehow I managed to make it upstairs to my bed where I collapsed and fell into a deep sleep, not waking up until morning.

  Downstairs, I was able to eat breakfast without throwing up. My body ached, but not as much as I thought it might. I turned on the small television on the kitchen counter. Halfway through morning news, the woman on the screen said something that caught my attention, something about the identity of the girl in the red dress, the girl in the red dress being Ellie.

  I grabbed the remote and punched up the volume.

  The woman talked about the YouTube video that had been posted a week ago and how it had five million hits.

  “An anonymous caller tipped us off to the identity of the young woman,” the blond girl on the screen said in her perky morning voice. “She’s none other than Evangeline Barlow. And who is Evangeline Barlow, you might ask?” She turned to her co-host, a guy in a suit. “Do you remember the sitcom Mad Maddy?”

  He frowned and shrugged. “Sounds a little familiar.”

  The woman laughed. “It was a show for girls, I guess. I have to confess to watching it. As soon as I got home from school, that TV came on and I was glued to it for the next thirty minutes. I loved me some Mad Maddy.”

  “So the girl in the video is the girl who played Mad Maddy?” the guy asked.

  “We’re not 100% sure, but we emailed the video link to several people in the know, and all of them said it looked like her.”

  “Along with the anonymous tip stating the same?”

  “Right.”

  Back to the camera and the home audience. “Anyway, there you go. Take a look at the video and give us a tweet or send us an email. Is the mystery woman in the red dress Evangeline Barlow? Let us know what you think.”