Unwritten (The Unspoken Series Book 1)

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Unwritten (The Unspoken Series Book 1) Page 3

by M. C. Decker


  “That’s an easy one! An afternoon at the beach; maybe a picnic, or some stargazing. Ohhh, fireworks over the water. … Yes, now that would be perfection.” I always envisioned Jay proposing to me in that exact setting, but in that moment, it was Rich I envisioned lying next to me in the sand.

  “That does sound perfect … I’ll go with a promise,” Rich said this time.

  “Yes!” I exclaimed. “I was waiting for you to choose promise. When you become the editor of a big-time newspaper – because we both know you will someday – you need to hire me. Got it, Mister!” I said, poking at his chest.

  Chuckling, he answered, “Yes, Brooke, I promise that when I’m the editor of some big-time newspaper you will be my second-in-command.”

  “Wow, I just asked for a job and now I’m second-in-command – score,” I joked.

  “I don’t have the job yet, sweetheart.”

  “I know, I know. OK, give me another dare,” I requested.

  “Brooke, I, uh, dare you to grab dinner with me tomorrow night?”

  Crap, crap, crap, I can’t do this. I LOVE Jason. Jay-Jay is your forever, Brooke. Well, at least I made it to the fourth round. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Rich. I’m sorry if I have been giving you the wrong idea, but you know I am spoken for … not to mention, I’m kind of your boss,” I tried to tell him as convincingly as possible. The question remained as to whom I was trying to convince.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. I just thought … never mind,” Rich said, with a hint of regret in his voice.

  Game over. The light, carefree banter from earlier was gone. Rich still held me in his arms, but they were now cold and stiff. We continued on to the rec center in silence and I watched as he took a few photos of the team.

  He really did have a flare for everything he did. He took some fantastic shots and could write a very captivating article. I was convinced the guy was bound for a great future. I would never admit this to him, but I was extremely envious of his writing. He would probably be the one sitting behind a desk at the Washington Post someday. Heck, as I admitted to him during our little game, he was probably even good enough to be the editor.

  We didn’t say another word to each other the entire night. It was as if that spark between us that seemed so real earlier had been completely extinguished. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had ruined something that might have been good. Why was I thinking that way when I had a completely happy relationship with Jay? Sure, something had seemed a bit off about us lately and we’d been missing more of our “phone dates,” but he was still my forever.

  Gone was the easy banter once we returned to the office that night. There was a definite tension in the air between us now; he didn’t offer to take me back to my room, after we finished the paper, as he had in the past several months. I had definitely succeeded in putting a strain on our newly formed relationship. I pouted a bit as I walked back to my room … alone.

  Heaving my shoulder bag onto the bed, I lazily sauntered into my room after sending the paper off to the printer that night. It was approaching one in the morning and I was exhausted.

  “Get the paper sent?” Cassidy asked from across the room. She was up either working on a research paper, or chatting with her next boy toy on AIM – probably the latter of the two.

  “Yep, thank God. It seems like everything that could go wrong, went wrong tonight.”

  “You wanna run over to the Campus Diner and grab a bite before crashing?” she asked.

  “What are you drunk? That greasy stuff only sounds good mixed with alcohol and lots of it!”

  “No, but for some reason a greasy omelet with lots of Swiss cheese and bacon sounds delicious right now. And, before you say it – NO, I’m not preggo,” she added, as she lightly shoved me in the arm.

  “I think I’m falling for Rich Davis,” I told her, without taking a breath, from the corner booth of the restaurant.

  “I’m sorry … WHAT?!? I could have sworn you just said you were falling for Douche Monkey Davis.”

  “I did,” I admitted sheepishly.

  “What about Jay? I mean sure he can be a tool sometimes, but he loves you Brooke.”

  “Does he, Cass? We haven’t talked for three days. It’s like we don’t even make time for our phone dates anymore. I know we’re both busy with school and our other activities, but we always used to make time, even if it was just for five minutes. I’m starting to think he just loves the old Brooke; maybe we don’t even know each other anymore.”

  It was true; Jay and I had started drifting apart earlier that spring. He didn’t even come home that summer. He decided to take an internship with the college’s mechanical engineering department and I completely supported his decision. It was good for his future … our future, I thought at the time, but maybe it wasn’t such a good idea after all. Since he’d decided to stay in Marquette all summer, I told him that I wanted to visit and spend some time on the beaches of Lake Superior, but he even told me that was a bad idea because he’d be working all day and studying at night since he’d also added on a few summer courses. It was just strange.

  Then one night, during one of our phone dates, he hit me with the bombshell that he thought we should take a break. I completely freaked out on him. I remember my stomach sank and I began to sob uncontrollably. I started hyperventilating before rushing to the bathroom and losing the entire contents of my stomach. Sitting there on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor for what felt like hours sobbing into the phone, I begged Jay not to break up with me. I guess I finally broke him down to the point where he decided it was just the stress of the internship and his missing me that made him finally realize he’d made a mistake. Things seemed to go better after that and I continued to be hopeful for our future.

  “You two will work it out,” Cass tried to reassure me, while slurping on her chocolate shake. “You always do. Remember when you thought you loved Tommy Jenson our sophomore year in high school? I had to snap you out of it then and I will snap you out of it again. You and Jay are just in a rut right now. Maybe you should get all sexy tomorrow night before you call him. You know – throw on a sexy nightie, forget the panties and let him hear the hum of your B-O-B (battery-operated-boyfriend).”

  “Oh my god. I am not having phone sex with Jay in our dorm room. What if our suitemates overheard, or better yet, where the hell will you be going? Plus, even if that was a good idea, I don’t have anything sexy here. What’s the point when my boyfriend is over four hundred miles away?”

  “That’s it!” Cassidy blurted out.

  “Oh gawd, that face scares me, Cass.”

  “We’re going shopping. You need something lacy and definitely some new batteries.”

  I had no words for Cassidy and all I could do was shake my head at my best friend as we finished our greasy late-night omelets, hashbrowns and buttered toast. I would really need to spend a few extra hours in the gym tomorrow.

  The next day, after a little more convincing from my best friend, I decided that maybe Cassidy was right. We skipped classes and spent the entire day shopping for my phone date with Jay. Honestly, I was glad to skip class that day. I couldn’t stand the thought of spending the afternoon with Rich after what had happened between the two of us the night before. Plus, I wanted to focus my attention solely on Jay – the love of my life.

  After a day of shopping, I came home to prepare myself for some sexy time. I bought myself a new nightie which I planned to photograph and e-mail to Jay. If that didn’t get him in the mood for some fun, I wasn’t sure what would. I flipped the switch on the battery-operated candles, slipped into my new outfit, put the new container of lube on the bedside table, and inserted some fresh batteries into B-O-B (just like Cassidy had suggested). I mean, after all, we do want maximum pleasure and performance. We’d hate for B-O-B to go limp right before the fireworks show. I called Jay exactly at eleven o’clock and got the voice of his roommate, Mark, on their answering machine. I’m sure he’ll call me soon.


  I woke up during the middle of the night, hearing a light knocking on the door. I realized then that it was after three in the morning. I was freezing, wearing only a lacy negligee, and my boyfriend had blown me off, instead of getting me off, yet again. I threw on my bathrobe and padded to the door to let in Cassidy. She had spent the majority of the evening studying in the library in order to give me plenty of alone time for my “heated” conversation with Jay. I think she could tell by the look on my face, or maybe the sleep cruds in my eyes, that it hadn’t gone according to our plan.

  “No luck, huh?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I huffed, as I crashed back into bed and pulled the covers over my head. I cried myself back to sleep that night.

  The following day, Jay surprised me with a call in the middle of the afternoon. He explained that he had been invited to watch a Yankees playoff game with some of his buddies at one of the frat houses. He had contemplated pledging this particular fraternity this fall and he didn’t want to turn them down.

  “So, what you are saying is that smelly boys are a priority over your hot girlfriend now?”

  “No, Brookie, what I’m saying is the Yankees were on. You know how much I love the Yankees. They clinched a spot in the World Series last night. I really wish I could get you to like watching the games.”

  “Whatever, Jay, it was a stupid baseball game. I even went out and bought some lingerie thinking we could … just nevermind.”

  “Wait … Are you saying you wanted to phone fuck?”

  “Yes, that’s what I’m saying, but you blew that chance. … instead of your load.”

  “Baby, why don’t we start what should have happened last night?”

  “It’s too late, Jason. I have class in twenty and Cass is sitting right next to me.”

  “Oh crap, you just Jasoned me. I need to make it up to you, Brookie. Hey, I just thought of something. Baby, would you watch the Yankees with me if we had something big riding on it?”

  “The Yankees – are you fucking kidding me right now? Your big plan on making it up to me is the goddamn Yankees?”

  “Calm down, baby. Let me explain my idea.”

  “What? Like phone sex? Is it always about those damn Yankees with you?”

  “No baby, I was thinking more like … we could get engaged if the Yankees win the World Series.”

  “Wait, hold the phone. … Did you just fucking say that you want to marry me if the Yankees win the fucking World Series? Like seriously? Have you lost your fucking mind?”

  “Wow, I thought you’d be a little more excited than that.”

  “You can’t be serious, Jay.”

  “I’m serious, baby. The Yankees are a sure thing. They have great Vegas odds. I want you to be interested in the things that I love. And, I love you, baby. I want you to be my wife.”

  Lord knows that I had waited for years to hear him say that. Sure, we had always talked about our future, but we had never discussed marriage. At least when he was sober, anyways. I mean granted; it wasn’t the most romantic of proposals, but once they won, he would get a ring and get down on bended knee for real, right? “Uh, this is so crazy. But, of course, yes. I want to be your wife, Jay, more than anything. If it takes the Yankees winning the World Series for that to happen then go Bronx Bombers!”

  For the next two weeks, I watched every Yankees’ game while sitting on pins and needles. When they weren’t playing and I wasn’t at class, I spent the majority of my free time searching for the perfect engagement ring online.

  The Yankees lost the first two games of the series and I was crushed, but I was ecstatic when they came back to win the next three. I think I annoyed Cassidy because I wouldn’t give up the television to let her watch her reality bullshit. It was probably just some show about some douche trying to find love amongst twenty-five bimbo Barbies, anyways. Like that would ever work! Besides, I had my own version of reality to live. It would be much more entertaining for her to watch it play out live. And, boy, did she ever like telling me that I was acting ridiculous. She yelled at me numerous times for accepting such an “absurd proposal” as she called it.

  The big game was finally here – game seven of the World Series. I made sure to clear my schedule that night so I could watch my happily-ever-after play out.

  “You are so absurd,” Cass called out from the bathroom, where she was prepping for a date with lord-only-knows-who.

  “I know … You have mentioned that like two hundred times in the past three weeks. But, thanks for clarifying once again,” I shouted back.

  “I just don’t get it, Brookie. If he loves you like he says he does then he shouldn’t need some stupid baseball game to determine your future.”

  “He’s going to propose anyways. I know he will. By Christmas, I’ll have a huge rock on my finger. He just wants me to cheer with him for his team. It’s kind of cute, really, when you think about it.”

  “Yeah, OK. Whatever makes you sleep better at night,” Cass quipped, while adding in her signature eye roll.

  After Cassidy left for her date, I relaxed on my bed with a huge bowl of microwave popcorn to watch game seven of the World Series. I anxiously sat on the edge of my bed, unable to eat much of the popcorn. The game was a true pitchers’ duel. Neither team scored a run until the sixth inning when Arizona scored first. When that runner came across home plate, I felt my heart sink. The Yankees, however, came back to score two runs during the next two innings to lead the game, 2-1.

  As I watched the eighth inning, I envisioned Jay’s face as I walked down the church aisle toward him on our wedding day. His smile brought out his perfect dimples and there was even a tear rolling down his cheek. I was wearing a white, satin gown with a sweetheart neckline, embellished with tiny crystals. My dad was at my side wearing a perfectly tailored, black penguin suit, as I liked to call tuxedos. My mom was sitting in the front pew, blotting her damp eyes with tissues.

  The Yankees maintained the lead going into the ninth inning with their amazing closing pitcher coming out to the mound for the second consecutive inning. This was it … I was going to get my engagement ring, my husband and my happily-ever-after.

  Waiting for the closer to toss some warm-up pitches, I envisioned welcoming our first child into this world – a girl. She would have her father’s eyes and my little, upturned nose.

  Well, that perfect closing pitcher … turns out that he wasn’t so perfect, after all. He ended up blowing the game and the Yankees lost to the Arizona Diamondbacks, 3-2. I broke down in tears, spilling the uneaten popcorn all over my bed and Jay never called that night. All of my hopes and fantasies slowly began to fade away that night.

  I figured Jay was just upset about the game. He had been so excited about our upcoming proposal. I was convinced that he would go ahead with it anyways. After all, he just wanted me to watch and love the Yankees, too, right? Mission accomplished. I knew he would call me the next day, and with Christmas just around the corner I could anticipate a sparkly diamond on my finger. Just as I had already explained to Cassidy – why was I suddenly not so sure?

  A few days went by after the Yankees’ loss and I still hadn’t heard from Jay. I mean I could understand how he may have initially been upset, but this was ridiculous. It was just a game, after all, and if he still wanted to marry me then all he had to do was ask. I still watched and tried to enjoy the baseball games. He still had me interested in his team, and if it was that important to him in the future, I would learn to love the Yankees. After all, if I loved him, I should embrace his hobbies and other interests, I reasoned to myself.

  It was a Thursday afternoon and I was finished with my classes for the day. Having no sorority obligations that night, Cassidy and I had made plans to meet in the library at eight o’clock for a study session. Checking my watch, I realized I had about two hours to spare. It was time to call Jay and see where his head was at.

  I waited through three rings before I heard Mark’s voice on the other end. Mar
k had been Jay’s best friend since high school. They were both on the baseball team and earned scholarships to play at Michigan Tech. After being accepted, they decided it only made sense to rent an apartment together near campus.

  “Hello,” Mark answered.

  “Hey Marky, long time, no talk. I feel like the only time I hear your voice anymore is on that silly, answering-machine message.”

  It was something along the lines of “You’ve reached Jason and Mark. We’re not around right now … Hopefully, we’re out scoring some home runs, if you know what I mean. Anyways, you know what to do after the beep.”

  “Brookie! How’ve you been, baby girl?” he asked.

  “Oh, pretty good. I keep quite busy down here between school, sorority activities and the student paper.”

  “Yeah, Jay filled me in on all your stuff. Hey, any cute sorority sisters you could hook an old friend up with?”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle at his request. “Um, not that I can think of, Marky. But, I’ll keep you in mind, OK?”

  We both knew I wouldn’t actually give it a second thought, but he agreed anyways, probably in the hopes that I was telling him the truth.

  “Is Jay around?” There was a long pause and some chatter in the background … “Marky, you there?” I asked a bit confused.

  “Uh, yeah, Brooke. Sorry, Jay’s not here right now. I think he said he was going to go lift weights before dinner,” he replied.

  “Then why did I just hear him talking to you? And, is that a girl I hear whispering in the background? What the fuck is going on? I know he’s there. … Hand him the damn phone.”

  I could feel myself begin to shake as I was yelling at Mark. It wasn’t his fault that Jay was being an ass, but he was covering for him. Fuck the “bro code.” I’m supposed to be his friend, too, and Jason was being a jackass.

  “Calm down, Brooke. Here’s Jay.” Before I had the chance to tell Mark goodbye, Jay grabbed the phone.

  “Hey, Brooke, what’s up?”

  “Seriously, you haven’t talked to me … your girlfriend, might I add, for four fucking days and I get a ‘hey, what’s up?’ I’ll tell you what’s up, Jason: one, what the fuck is your problem and two, who the hell is your lady friend, whispering in the background?”

 

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