by K. Ryan
"Sometimes."
It was just too bad the only part of my life in the club that had been real was Dom.
There were plenty of times I'd reached for my phone to call him, but the only times we'd really talked recently was just to keep the other up to speed about Wallace. He was stuck in that graveyard of ghosts I dragged around with me, but I never let him get too close.
He'd told me I was making the biggest mistake of my life by leaving the club and I'd told him he was making the biggest mistake of his by staying. There wasn't much common ground left between us after that.
Isabelle smiled sadly and reached up to touch my cheek. I abruptly tossed the cigarette to the ground; I didn't need it anymore now.
"Come on," I gestured with my head to the door. "Let's go inside."
"I'm pretty excited, actually," she informed me as I held the door open so she could step through. "I can't remember the last time we were here."
My heart knotted at the word we, but I shelved that for now.
"Would you believe me if I told you they have actually have pretty decent burgers here?" I laughed as I led her over to an empty table.
"I guess we were always here too late to ever take advantage of that, huh?"
Isabelle was already swaying to the music blaring from the speakers overhead when I pulled out a chair for her before sinking down into the one across from her.
"You'll always be a part of me," she bopped her head a little as she sang along. "I'm part of you indefinitely. Boy, don't you know you can't escape me, ooo darlin' 'cause you'll always be my baby..."
I cocked an amused eyebrow at her, shifting my weight to dig my wallet out of my back pocket. Now she was leaning across from me as if we were simply gravitating toward each other from our respective chairs.
"I like this," she whispered just loudly enough to be heard above the music.
"What?"
"Being here like this, normal with you," she smiled. "I like it."
"Me too, Iz."
It seemed like we sat there like that for hours, eating our greasy bar burgers and fries, laughing and reminiscing about all the times we'd used to come here, but carefully overlooking who else we'd been here with. Even as the bar filled up, more people crowded the space, and the DJ made some announcements, I didn't think either of us really noticed.
When our server set two beers down in front of us, I leaned forward on my elbows with a frown, more than a little annoyed at the intrusion. "Hey, man, we didn't order these."
The server turned on his heel and pointed at the two figures waving at us from the opposite end of the room. "No, but your friends did."
"Holy shit!" Isabelle exclaimed, her eyes wide with surprise.
"Oh hell," I muttered under my breath.
Talk about shitty luck.
Of course Brandon Davis and some chick who only looked vaguely familiar would be here at this bar right at this moment. And now, they had their drinks in hand and were making their way right over to our table. Great.
"Who's that chick with him, Iz?"
"Jessica Torres," Isabelle whispered loudly. "She was on the cheer squad with me."
So much for having her all to myself tonight. I could already see how this was going to play out: Isabelle would get roped into conversation with her old cheerleading friend and they would sit reminiscing about 'old times' for the rest of the night while I'd be stuck with Davis.
"Hey guys!" Isabelle called over to them and pointed down at the beers in front of us. "Thanks for the drinks. You didn't have to do that."
"Not a problem," Davis laughed and I swallowed heavily as Isabelle slid off her chair to embrace her ex-boyfriend.
"It's good to see you," Isabelle was telling him now, quickly releasing Davis just as soon as her arms wrapped around his shoulders for a brief moment. "And Jess! It's been so long!"
Isabelle then proceeded to hug her friend, or at least she was acting like they'd been friends, and gestured to me. "Jess, you remember Caleb Sawyer, right?"
"Of course I do," Jess laughed with a grin. "Nice to see you again, Caleb. God, I don't think I've seen you since, what? Our graduation?"
And now I just felt like an even bigger asshole for having no real idea who this chick was. I vaguely remembered seeing her in the hallways of Claremont High in the same blue and white cheer skirt Isabelle used to wear. Of course, back then I'd spent most of my time pretending to look elsewhere whenever Isabelle pranced around in that skirt.
"So," Isabelle smiled brightly and gestured to Davis and Jess. "How are the kids?"
My eyes flew back to Isabelle. I'd had no idea those two were even together, let alone had any kids, and I was the one who still lived in town with them.
Now Davis held out his iPhone and pointed down at a picture of two little kids. "That's Emily. She's four, and that one's Alex. He just turned two a few days ago actually."
"Oh, wow," Isabelle squinted down at the phone to get a better look. "Alex looks just like you, Brandon. I saw that video you posted a few months ago of him singing in the bathtub...so cute!"
She shot me a quick wink and I had a hard time not rolling my eyes up to the ceiling. Right. Thank God for social media. How else would she know what her high school boyfriend and his wife were up to? Jesus.
Finally, I decided it was time to act civil.
"Hey, congratulations, man," I jutted out a hand for Davis to take. "You've got a great-looking family there."
"Thanks, Sawyer," Davis shook my hand with a grin, his eyes darting between me and Isabelle. "It's really good to see you guys."
"You too," I nodded back.
There would've been a moment of awkwardness had the DJ not rescued us with his latest announcement.
"Alright, alright," the DJ's voice rang out through the speakers. "I hope you all are enjoying Retro Night here at Graffiti's. We've got all the 80's and 90's classics you forgot were completely awesome. Now I wanna see all you fine ladies out on the dance floor with this next one and don't forget to tip your bartender!"
As the first beats of Michael Jackson's "Thriller" thumped from the speakers, Jess was already tugging on Isabelle's hand to lead her out onto the makeshift dance floor, even as she threw an apologetic glance over her shoulder at her husband.
Davis spread his arms out and gestured with his head toward the door. "I thought we were leaving now?"
"Come on, baby," Jess called out to him, still pulling Isabelle toward the dance floor with one hand and waving her husband off with the other. "You know this is the only night we get off from the kids. I wanna dance! Besides, me and Isabelle know all the moves. You know you're jealous!"
That got my attention and I lifted my eyebrows at Isabelle with an amused smirk even as Jess kept pulling her away from where I wanted her to be. "All the moves, huh?"
Isabelle laughed and just shrugged, calling back to me: "Well, you'd know that if you'd ever gone to a pep rally or a basketball game or a football game, you know."
There wasn't much I could do other than to just shake my head and lean back against my chair to watch.
"I'm really sorry about this," Brandon was muttering to me now as he sank down into the chair Isabelle had vacated. "I swear to God we were leaving."
"Nah. Don't worry about it," I gestured to our two girls with the neck of my beer. "I think we should just sit back and enjoy the show."
With a chuckle, Davis settled back just like I had suggested and we watched Isabelle and Jess re-enact the familiar dance moves, pretty impressively I had to admit.
"Damn," I muttered into my beer and shook my head. "Shoulda went to more pep rallies."
Davis laughed heartily at that. "Oh well. Lesson learned, right? Man, I forgot how good Jess used to be at all that shit. So," he gestured to Isabelle with his beer bottle, "you guys back together then?"
My lips pulled to one side of my face and I wished to God I had a different answer. "It's complicated."
"It didn't really look that way to me when you
first got here," he just shrugged. "You guys pretty much looked like you were together."
Davis seemed to take my silence as answer enough and went on anyway. "You know, I was a real dick to her when she broke things off with us. I deserved that sucker-punch you laid into me right over there all those years ago."
"I think it might've been more than one," I threw back with a grin.
"Yeah, well, I shouldn't have said that shit about her mom, about you...that was just a complete asshole move and I didn't handle us ending for a second time as well as I should've. I've always wanted to tell her that, but tonight's probably not the night to rehash old shit from the past, huh?"
I glanced over to the dance floor, my eyes finding Isabelle almost immediately, and my heart twisted when she smiled at me, playfully waving to the dance floor in an exaggerated attempt to coax me out there with her as she sang along to "Summer of 69".
"Well," Davis laughed with a shake of his head. "I think it's safe to say she hasn't changed much."
"Yeah," I smiled, my eyes following Isabelle's every move.
"That's good to see, especially after everything you guys..." Davis trailed off and stared down at his bottle with a wince.
That was the thing about small towns. Even if you went out of your way to avoid 99 percent of the people in it, everyone still managed to know all your business and then some.
"How's her dad doing?"
"Ah, you know, he's still dying. Things are going downhill pretty quickly."
"Right," Davis nodded slowly. "I figured as much. I was really sorry to hear he was sick."
"I'll tell her you said that."
"Thanks, man," Davis pressed a grim smile on his face, but his expression lightened up as soon as he saw that his wife and Isabelle were making their way back to us. "Finally. Our babysitter's not gonna be real happy with us. Hey, I know this isn't any of my business, but I really hope you guys figure it out. I was pissed as shit when I first found out you guys were together back—what was it, like eight, nine years ago? But she deserves to be happy and from what I can tell, she looks pretty happy here with you. Just don't screw it up this time, alright?"
I didn't know how to respond, mainly because I didn't really want to discuss my personal life with someone I'd spent too much time loathing. Then again, the reason for said loathing was currently wrapping an arm around my neck as Brandon Davis left with his wife.
After some quick goodbyes, we settled back into our table, but this time, I pulled my chair right next to hers so I could drape my arm leisurely around her shoulders, which was really just another excuse to touch her. We sat there at the table like that for a little longer and I was perfectly happy with my arm around her, tucking her into my side, and listening to her sing slightly off-key to some Boston and Whitesnake classics I'd completely forgotten were awesome.
"Alright, guys," the DJ's voice rang out again through the speakers. "We're gonna slow it down a little with some Cyndi Lauper. Here's 'Time After Time'."
As the slow thump-thump of the song's opening beats streamed from the speakers, Isabelle lifted her head from my shoulder and gestured with her head towards the dance floor.
"Dance with me?"
There was no way I'd ever be able to say no to her, so I nodded and let her lead me out onto the dance floor. With the strains of the song and the words circling around us, I slid my hands around her waist to tuck her into my chest. Breathing in the soft scent of spicy vanilla and flowers in her hair and feeling her curl into me was more than I could've ever expected for this night. Swaying with her to the slow music, holding her close enough that I could feel her chest lightly rising and falling, everything else just slipped away.
If we could just hang on to this moment, when all that existed between us was the love I knew was still very much alive, maybe working through all the other shit wasn't going to be as wide a mountain to climb as I thought.
"Iz?" I murmured in her hair.
She lifted her head off my shoulder to look at me.
"Stay with me tonight," I leaned my forehead into hers and whispered, "I don't want you to leave."
Her lips parted and finally pressed together in a firm line. With pain and indecision flickering across her face, I was lucky she was still standing here like this and letting me touch her.
"Why?" Isabelle exhaled. "Why do you want me to stay?"
The rest of her question lingered in the air: what exactly do you think is going to happen tonight?
"I know what I'm asking here, okay? I know I'm overstepping—I just...I don't know. I guess I could say it's because I don't want either of us to have to be alone tonight. And I guess I could say it would just be easier for you to be with me tonight because then I know you'll be safe. But the truth is that I just need to be with you. This night has been one of the best nights of my life and I don't want it to end by going back to your dad's and sleeping on the couch. If I could just hold you all night, that would be enough. Please, Iz, just stay with me."
I watched her suck in a shaky breath and squeeze her eyes shut before she finally leaned into my shoulder again. The conflict written across her face made me flinch. Any other night of the year, I might be able to handle her rejection with some humility and leave it at that. Tonight, though, I wasn't so sure I'd survive without her.
Finally, she put me out of my misery, glanced up at me with watery eyes, and whispered: "Okay."
. . .
Isabelle
I fumbled with the T-shirt a little as I slipped it over my head and brought the material to my nose so I could inhale deeply. My eyes fluttered shut and I let myself get lost in his T-shirt for just a moment before pulling on the sweatpants he'd insisted I wear.
I just want you to be comfortable here, he'd told me, but what he was really saying was, I want you to be comfortable here and clothed as much as humanly possible.
Short of coming out of his bathroom decked out from head to toe in scuba gear, his T-shirt and sweatpants would have to do for tonight. He could handle it and I hoped I could, too.
I closed my eyes again as his words washed over me. Please, Iz, just stay with me. It was amazing how something so simple could be so complicated. I would've given anything to hear those words the day I left Claremont for good, but he let me leave instead. As much as every alarm bell in my head screamed, Warning! Warning!—as much as I wanted to hold out and ask him to drive me back to my dad's instead, one look, one kiss, one moment, and I was sunk.
Why did he make me feel so weak when all I wanted to be was strong?
I didn't really know what I just signed myself up for. Whether I stayed one night or any more after it, this would be a short-term stay. But when he looked at me with such vulnerability, such sincerity, such love, and finally saying the words I'd wanted to hear even if it was six years too late, any resolve I had to keep him at arm's length crumbled. And it just didn't feel all that wrong to be here with him right now, to want to be near him, to want to feel his arms around me.
So I shut out the rest of the noise and opened the bathroom door.
Caleb had his back to me as he rummaged around his tiny apartment, shoving some dishes in the sink, and turned on his heel to backpedal toward the bed, stopping only to straighten the comforter a little, none the wiser that I'd opened the door.
I took a few careful steps out of the bathroom and his head shot up at the movement. His lips curved and he rubbed the back of his neck anxiously as his eyes trailed up and down my body as if he wanted to memorize the way I looked right now in his T-shirt and sweatpants. I glanced down at my attire and tugged on my pant leg.
"They're a little big, huh?"
"Maybe just a little," he laughed lightly, still watching me as I bent down to roll up the sweatpants so I could move around easier.
I shuffled aimlessly deeper inside the apartment, so treacherously close to the bed, and fought the urge to wring my hands. Why the hell didn't he have any other furniture in here? I guess he didn't really need to co
nsidering the bed was just ten feet away from his TV, but right about now, I wished this apartment was just a little bit bigger so there could be just a little bit more space between us.
Screw it.
It was now or never.
I flopped down on Caleb's bed and mentally congratulated myself for only thinking about how many other women had been in this bed one time. That thought passed through the deep recesses of my mind and I rolled onto my back, testing the mattress a little with my elbow before folding my hands across my stomach.
Caleb hesitated. He stood at the foot of the bed, chewing on the inside of his cheek, scrubbed his face with both hands, and finally gave in, collapsing next to me, but careful to give me a good foot of much-needed space. I tried to stare up at the ceiling in peace until I felt his fingertips leave a light trail down the side of my neck, tracing the three stars underneath my ear.
"What does this mean, Iz?"
The truth wasn't something I wanted to admit out loud. I couldn't tell him I'd gotten it after one of the darkest days I'd ever had post-Claremont and post-Caleb. I couldn't tell him I'd cried in the chair and that my tears had nothing to do with the sting from the tattoo gun. And I definitely couldn't tell him the tattoo had been intended to form some sort of cosmic, ill-conceived connection with him in spite of all the distance between us.
My eyes fell to the upside-down compass on his left arm as he rested his forearm against his stomach where I had clear view of it, as if to taunt me into telling the truth, to admit that as much as I denied it until I was blue in the face, I knew as well as anybody that our connection had never faded away. And because I was either completely stupid or inherently strong, I couldn't give him that full truth.
"I was feeling lost," I whispered, my eyes still trained on the compass. "I guess I was just trying to find my way."
Caleb glanced down at the ink on his arm, the design I'd painstakingly created for him so long ago, and I knew he understood. Compasses and the stars: cosmic symbols of the literal and metaphorical search for direction. His fingertips continued their exploration, making me shiver with every inch of skin he grazed, until his thumb brushed my cheek.
