by S. Walden
“Friends,” I said, and extended my hand. He shook it. “We should have been real friends a long time ago.”
“Nah, see, that wouldn’t have worked because I was head-over-heels in love with you.”
I laughed. “Did that change once you heard I landed in juvie?”
“Hell no. If anything I thought you were the baddest chick around.”
I laughed hard. I didn’t even see Mr. Connelly walk in.
“I was scared to death the first day I went to juvie,” I said. Then I saw him. He was watching me surreptitiously. I tensed immediately.
“You okay?” Jacob asked.
“Sure,” I said, wiping at my shirt again.
Jacob caught sight of Mr. Connelly. “God, I hate seeing teachers outside of school.”
I chuckled nervously. “Me too.”
“Should we say hello?” he asked.
“Um . . .”
“Too late,” Jacob whispered as Mr. Connelly approached our table. “Hey, Mr. Connelly.”
“What’s up, Jacob?” he replied, and turned to me. “Cadence,” he said with a slight nod of his head. It was a really shitty thing to do. I understood we were over, but he didn’t have to treat me like a complete, inconsequential stranger. The guy used to put his mouth between my legs.
There was an awkward silence before Jacob piped up.
“Tech is playing tonight,” he said.
“I know,” Mr. Connelly replied. “I’m meeting some friends to watch the game.”
“Hope it’s better than the last one,” Jacob said.
Mr. Connelly chuckled. “Tell me about it. You watch college basketball, Cadence?”
Fuck you.
“No.”
Mr. Connelly nodded.
“Are you betting?” Jacob asked.
“On this game? No way,” Mr. Connelly said. “I’m not much of a gambler anyway.”
I know all about that.
“Well, it’s sinful anyway,” Jacob joked. “Right, Cadence?”
“Among a lot of other things,” I said.
“Like what?” Mr. Connelly asked.
“Hmm. I’m no Bible expert, but lying, cheating, stealing, treating people like shit . . . I think all those things would be considered sinful,” I replied.
Well, I made it three weeks. I had to give myself props for that. And I also had to cut myself some slack. I was a burned and damaged eighteen-year-old non-virgin having an awkward conversation with the 28-year-old man who took my virginity. Yes, I was allowed to be a little snarky.
Neither Mr. Connelly nor Jacob knew what to say and mumbled “goodbyes.” I watched as Mr. Connelly glanced back in my direction before pushing through the door.
“What was that?” Jacob asked.
“What was what?”
“That answer,” Jacob said. “What was up with that?”
I shrugged. “I just answered his question.”
“Are you still upset with Mr. Connelly about the white board incident?”
“Huh?”
“When he made you go up front to work a problem,” Jacob clarified.
If it were only that.
I shook my head. “I’m not mad at all. He asked about some sins, and I listed them. That’s it.”
“It was freakin’ weird,” Jacob said.
“Well, I’m weird, okay?”
“Okay, that’s cool,” Jacob replied, nodding his head.
I stood up abruptly. “Look, I gotta go.”
“I wasn’t saying you were weird, Cadence,” Jacob said. “I said it was. It.”
“I know that.”
“Well, you seem pissed at me all of a sudden.”
“I’m not pissed at you.”
“Really?”
“I’m positive, Jacob. Really, I am. I’ve had fun hanging out, but I just need to go home. It’s been a long day,” I said. And that was the complete truth.
“All right,” he said, his tone reluctantly resigned.
I could feel his eyes on me as I pushed through the coffee shop door.
***
I saw him across the lobby staring at me, and I wanted to make him jealous.
“I’ve gotta take a leak,” Tate said, handing me the popcorn.
“Classy,” I muttered.
“Oh, sorry. That was rude,” he replied, scratching the back of his head. He eyed me curiously. “Look, I’m just gonna say it.”
“Okay.”
“I’m nervous being on this date with you. I mean, I expected you’d say no, so it kind of threw me when you agreed.”
I smiled. “We’re just hanging out. No big deal.”
He nodded.
“You can kiss me if you want.” I couldn’t believe my boldness. But something in me simply didn’t care. “I mean, before you go to the bathroom. If you wanna kiss me on my cheek, I wouldn’t mind.”
Tate looked shocked. For all his forward questioning, he sure was a completely different person when it came time to act. And just for the record, I felt absolutely horrible using him this way. I didn’t want Tate’s lips anywhere on my face, but I knew what it’d do to the man standing yards away from me watching the scene.
Tate grinned and leaned over, planting a light kiss on my cheek. And it wasn’t so bad.
“Do it again,” I said. All of a sudden I felt like flirting.
He leaned over and kissed my cheek again, letting his lips linger for a moment.
“Again,” I demanded. I couldn’t get enough. Why did I want him to keep kissing my cheek?
He leaned over, his lips hovering over my cheek before steering unexpectedly to my lips. I wasn’t shocked. I wasn’t surprised. I wasn’t mad. I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t anything as I let him kiss my lips. It was an innocent kiss. No tongue. No lip sucking. Just light and sweet.
He stood up and studied my face. I looked straight into his eyes.
“You don’t like me at all,” he said after a moment. And then he chuckled.
I didn’t know what to say.
“It’s all right. We can still watch the movie together,” he said, then walked away towards the bathrooms.
“You’re seriously on a date with that guy?” Mr. Connelly asked from behind. I jumped.
His caustic words provided a measure of satisfaction for me.
“Yes.”
“You said he was a tool,” Mr. Connelly said.
“I know.”
“Cadence, come on. What are you doing?”
I was so tempted to scream at him. But I didn’t.
“I’m on a date with Tate,” I replied. I didn’t even let it bother me that my sentence rhymed. Okay, that’s a total lie. I freaking hated that my sentence rhymed, and I hated how stupid it sounded. And I hated that I was on a date with a tool. And I hated that Mr. Connelly made me sweat in my brand-new shirt.
Not doing a good job keeping the emotions under control. Internally anyway. But I’d be damned if I let anything remotely passionate escape my lips. Cuss word. Plea. Declaration of my undying love. He wasn’t getting anything.
“Do you wanna be on a date with him?” Mr. Connelly asked.
“Yes.”
“Really?”
Fuck you.
“Yes.”
“Cadence . . .”
I hate you and I love you. Happy?
“Yes?”
Mr. Connelly’s demeanor changed. Suddenly he looked pissed. I wasn’t giving him what he wanted. He wanted me to go off on him. He wanted to see crazy, impulsive Cadence because then it would give him license to be impulsive, too. He liked to blame me for this out-of-control person he’d become, but oh my God, I finally realized it! He liked it. He liked feeling that way. He liked being provoked.
He probably wanted to fuck me somewhere. A closet, no doubt.
“That guy’s no good for you,” he said.
“I like him,” I replied cheerfully.
“Yeah, I bet you do.” He took my arm and led me to the other side of the theatre. He steer
ed me into a dark alcove near the end of the hallway.
“Um, my date will wonder where I am,” I said.
“Do you want me to tell you I’m jealous of an eighteen-year-old boy?” he hissed in my ear.
“Mr. Connelly, we’re in public,” I reminded him.
“Call me ‘Mark’,” he snapped.
And that’s when I snapped. Just a little. “You don’t get to be called ‘Mark’ anymore. I don’t have that kind of relationship with you.”
“Do you understand what it’s been like for me?” he asked. “Being apart from you?”
“Seriously?”
“I’m going crazy!” he said. “I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t concentrate on work. I don’t like it, Cadence. Not any of it. I’m losing it.”
I felt a slight pang. I let my armor slip, and there it was. A pang of guilt. And then I remembered he broke up with me.
“You ended it, Mr. Connelly,” I said. “I’m just trying to move on.”
“Cadence . . .”
I’d never seen Mr. Connelly look desperate. I’d seen him look nervous, worried. Embarrassed. Even physically and emotionally disheveled. But never desperate. And I didn’t like it. I know I should have felt powerful in that moment. I should have celebrated my victory. But I really didn’t win. I was hurting. We were hurting, and we didn’t know how to fix it.
“I forgot it was Valentine’s Day,” he said after a time. “I didn’t realize.”
“You seriously expect me to believe that?”
“Yes.”
“Whatever. You have commitment issues. People with commitment issues are notorious for breaking up with their significant others around holidays.”
Mr. Connelly stared at me. And then I saw a half grin. I know what the son of a bitch was thinking.
“And no, I did not read that in my Marie Claire. I heard it somewhere.”
“I’m not a commitment phobe, Cadence.”
“Whatever.”
“Please don’t shrug it off. I really didn’t realize Valentine’s Day was coming up. I should have, but I didn’t. I wasn’t trying to be doubly hurtful.”
I didn’t want to start crying. I’d been doing such a good job until now.
“I have to find Tate,” I said.
“No.”
Now that wasn’t desperate. That was demanding.
“I can’t be rude.”
“Yes you can.”
“Mr. Connelly, I have to go.”
“No.”
And that’s when I lost it completely. “You said you’d always be there for me! That’s what you said! And I believed you because I’m a fucking idiot!”
A few heads turned in our direction.
“I know what I told you, Cadence. And that’s why I’m here now, to take you home with me.”
“Fuck you! You think you can just waltz back into my life after six weeks, steal me away from my date, and take me to your house? You’ve got a lot of nerve, buddy!”
“You better believe that’s what I plan to do,” Mr. Connelly said. “Because I’m your date tonight, not him.”
I stared at him in disbelief. Then my cell phone buzzed. It was Tate.
“I’m not being rude to him,” I said. “No matter that he’s a complete jackass.”
“Fine, then text him and tell him you got sick.”
“Why should I go with you? And how did you even know I was here anyway?”
“I talked to Avery.”
“What?”
“Well, she talked to me, actually.”
“What?!”
“Thanks for sharing our secret, by the way.”
“Avery’s trustworthy,” I said, dismissing him with a wave of my hand.
“Yeah, let’s hope so,” Mr. Connelly replied.
I shook my head. “What did she say to you?”
“She told me to stop being a fucking idiot and make things right with you.”
I said nothing.
“She’s a smart one,” Mr Connelly said. “And crass.”
I cracked a smile.
“Will you come with me?” he asked.
I wanted to go with him more than anything, but I was terrified.
“I’m afraid you’ll hurt me again,” I whispered. And then I let the tears fall. The tears I was determined not to cry. I let him see how fragile I really was.
“Cadence Miller,” Mr. Connelly said. He took my hand and held it gently. “You have all the reason in the world to hate my guts and walk away. But I’m asking you right now, please don’t walk away. Come with me. Let me show you how much I love you. How much I’ve always loved you. Let me apologize. And I swear, I’ll make it up to you forever. Just come with me.”
I took a deep breath.
“Come with me,” he urged.
I hesitated for a moment, thumbs poised over my phone screen before I sent a short text to Tate. I told him I had a girl emergency with my friend, Avery. I couldn’t tell him I was going home. He might call the house phone to see if I made it home safely. I dropped my cell in my bag and looked at Mr. Connelly.
I nodded.
He leaned over and kissed my cheek. I didn’t pull away when he took my hand and led me out of the theatre. Thank God we never ran into Tate. I didn’t think about the other people there watching us.
***
I had to wait outside his apartment while he “took care” of a couple of things. When he finally opened the door, he instructed me to close my eyes, leading me in carefully so I wouldn’t trip over the threshold. I smelled the lit candles immediately, and I smiled.
“Cadence, this is just the beginning,” he said. “Open your eyes.”
I couldn’t believe what I saw. It was an explosion of love, and it was all for me.
“How did you do this?” I breathed, taking in the details.
Red and pink balloons tied off with white ribbons bobbed around the ceiling. Candles cluttered the coffee and dining room tables, emitting a romantic glow. Bouquets of flowers decorated every surface of the living room. There were roses, carnations, tulips, daisies, lilies. I noticed little boxes wrapped with pink ribbons placed strategically throughout the room.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Mark said.
I walked around the room slowly, taking in every detail. Pink confetti littered the coffee table. I pressed my forefinger to a piece and lifted it to show him.
“Where’d you get these hearts?” I asked.
“Party City.”
“And the balloons?”
“Party City. They only had two heart-shaped ones left,” he said, pointing to the corner.
“One for you and one for me?” I teased.
“That’s what I hope.”
I glanced around the room.
“Gosh. What would you have done if I’d refused to come home with you?” I asked.
“Killed myself,” Mark replied. “Seriously. If I had to walk in here alone, I’d kill myself.”
I laughed. “You really went overboard.”
“And I’d do it again,” he said. “And again and again.”
I flicked the heart confetti off my finger and picked up one of the little boxes.
“May I?”
Mark nodded.
I opened the box to one piece of chocolate wrapped in a thin pink piece of paper. I opened it slowly and read the message: “I’m an idiot.” I looked at Mark and nodded, then popped the chocolate in my mouth. I moved to another box and opened it. Another chocolate wrapped with a message: “You can punish me however you want.” I looked at Mark.
“Really?” I said, handing him the paper.
“Yes, Cadence.”
Well, maybe I could have a little fun with this.
“Get on your knees.” I didn’t actually think he would. How demeaning. But he did, and he waited for further instruction. “Umm . . . kiss my feet.”
Mark grinned and leaned over. I jumped back.
“No! Don’t kiss my feet. Germs. Germs on my shoe
s. That’s gross.”
“I’ll kiss them, Cadence,” Mark said, looking up at me.
I shook my head.
“Then what do you want me to do?” he asked.
I considered him for a moment before replying, “I want you to make me trust you again.”
“I’ll do anything to make you feel that, Cadence.”
“I want you to tell me why you kept saying that I needed to trust you, and when I did, you left me.”
Mark looked me straight in the eyes. “I was a coward. I was afraid. I thought my life had become more difficult when in reality, it became unbearable the moment you walked out of here.”
“I know it’s hard for us,” I whispered.
“But it won’t be forever, Cadence. And I always knew that. I was just afraid. I have no other excuse,” Mark replied.
“You said you didn’t like feeling out of control. That I made you too emotional or something.” I looked at him expectantly.
“I haven’t . . . felt things in a long time. I forgot what it was like. You stirred up all these emotions, and I didn’t know how to handle them. I thought I didn’t like them, and when you left, I realized I didn’t like not feeling them.”
I smiled. “So you are human.”
He nodded.
I thought for a moment. “Why haven’t you felt things in a long time?”
I watched him tense just like he did that day at church when his mother almost revealed a secret.
“I . . . I really don’t wanna talk about that right now. I want to share with you. I really do, but not now. Is that all right?”
I nodded though I couldn’t stand that there was a part of him he was unwilling to share. But I respected him enough to drop it.
“You don’t think I’m drama?”
Mark smiled. “I think you’re the best kind of drama. And I want you to be my drama, and make me feel all the time, and turn me inside out, and do to my heart and mind whatever you want.”
I jumped into his open arms, and he fell backwards onto the living room floor. He wrapped me in a desperate, chest-crushing hug that left me breathless.
“I love you, Cadence,” he whispered into my ear. “I never stopped loving you.”
“I believe you,” I said, burying my face in his neck.
And I did.
***
“I had sex with someone else.” I thought I should tell the truth before he made love to me like I was and had always been solely his.
