He gets off his bike and leisurely walks towards me, bends down without hesitation, and takes my hand in his. I stand up and realize we are face to face for the third time today. There are no words to explain the embarrassment I feel at this very moment. It’s not like I can nonchalantly brush it off. Umm, hello, I just took off like an ex-con and ran for three blocks straight to get away from a man who may or may not know about my past. One day your running will catch up with you.
He breaks the silence, “Come on. I’ll take you the rest of the way home.”
I climb on the back of his bike, still refusing to wear a helmet.
He mutters under his breath, “Suit yourself,” before he hits the throttle and shrugs his shoulders in defeat.
I put my arms around his waist, locking my fingers around one another in front of his stomach. It feels so freeing speeding through traffic, my auburn hair blowing around in the wind. It’s almost as if nothing has changed. I close my eyes and when I re-open them, I’m on the back of Jude’s bike.
It was early September, and the leaves had just begun to change colors. A sign Mother Nature was eagerly welcoming the approaching fall. My mom hated when we rode the bike, especially since it had been raining the entire weekend. The roads were wet from the breaking dawn’s dew when we left for school. It only made her worry more. She would nag at me until I agreed to wear a helmet, which I always ended up taking off as soon as we were out of sight. Jude was a rule follower and agreed with my mother. He said I was going to get myself killed one day but knew I was as stubborn as they come. He didn’t put up much of a fight knowing I would win in the end. I knew they both were trying to protect me, but there was something so liberating about riding without a helmet. I remember one time trying to hold my arms out like Rose in Titanic, but Jude acted like it was the end of the world and put a stop to it as soon as I had my second arm up.
My mother was a middle school teacher, and my father was a police officer in Little Falls, New Jersey. I wasn’t much of a rebel until my freshman year of high school when my dad’s illness got worse and was forced off of the force. Everyone changed, including me.
I was running my hands under Jude’s shirt, feeling his bare skin and warmth under my palms as we pulled up to my colonial brick house on Maple Avenue. The sound of loud sirens stopped my hands from moving dead in their tracks before they darted to my mouth that was hanging open staring at half a dozen ambulances surrounding my yard. The sounds coming from their horns playing over and over like a broken record. The color yellow had caught my eye as two men in uniforms draped caution tape onto the moist green lawn and rolled it in a straight line outlining our entire property. I hopped off the bike before Jude’s kickstand hit the pavement. A million questions raced through my mind as two stout police arms trapped me in their embrace. I recognized the face of a man from my dad’s old unit. I think his name was Steve. I’m kicking and screaming, but he won’t let me go. Molly, our golden retriever, must have heard my voice because she came running to me full speed from the front door of my house. Our bodies collided as I dropped to my knees to hug her. Then I had noticed her coat, her shiny, golden coat was matted with blood. I ran my hands vigorously over her body looking for her wound, but I found nothing. She wasn’t barking or yelping like she had been injured. Then it dawned on me that she hadn’t been. That’s when my world stopped turning on its axis. Everything stilled like the calmness before the storm. Thunder pounded in the distance amongst the chaos before I felt tiny beads of rain falling on my face. The breeze started to pick up as did my feet that carried me towards my house. As I darted to the front door I noticed cops and reporters hovering in my driveway. Camera crews were interviewing my neighbors, Jude’s parents. Why were Mr. and Mrs. Meyers being interviewed?
“Mom, Dad, Mason!” I screamed as I entered the threshold eager to see what had brought so much attention to our home. Jude picked me up from behind before I made it to our living room, his hands damp from the rain that was pouring outside.
“You don’t need to see this Hale. Come with me,” he demanded. My limp body was being held in his tight embrace. I looked up and saw Steve, the only officer I recognized, nodding in our direction with a face full of sorrow.
“What happened? Where is everyone, Jude?” I asked with a barely audible voice.
“They’re gone,” he whispered quietly into my ear.
The bike stops, and the sudden lack of movement brings me back to reality. The stranger who drove me home helps me climb off of the back. We’re standing face to face for the fourth time, and I have an impulsive urge to reach up and run my hands down the sides of his striking face.
He clears his throat to break the silence, then asks in the low husky voice he used earlier in the kitchen, “Do you need me to walk you up?”
My eyes travel from his to the metal doors that lead me to my new home.
“No. I’m fine. Thanks for the lift.” I shrug my shoulders and turn around.
I make it to the double doors when he says, “My name’s Kyler. I’ll see ya around.”
I turn my head to look over my left shoulder and say, “Yeah, maybe,” as I enter the building. I get off of the elevator on the third floor and peak out of the window. I see him push his kickstand up with his leather-covered foot then I hear the engine ignite and he’s gone. “Kyler,” I whisper as I watch him drive away into the darkness.
The sound of deafening music coming from the speakers on my desk jolts my body, awakening me much too early for a Saturday morning. My eyes open to find the curtains are opened, welcoming the daylight. I shut my eyes while letting out a small growl of annoyance.
“Lucy?” I cover my face with both arms trying to block out the glare of the sun beating through the windows. I hear a loud thump before I feel both sides of the bed sink in as she stands over me.
“Wake up sleeping beauty,” her voice sings as I roll over and look at the time on my phone.
“It’s nine a.m. Why are you up? Wait, I thought you stayed with Ken?” I sit up in my bed tugging the covers up over my chest; she looks at me puzzled. “Kevin I mean. I thought you stayed the night there?”
“I did and now I’m home, so get up! Let’s get some coffee and pick up our books. Then we’ll have all afternoon to see what kind of men we have roaming around campus.”
This girl continues to amaze me, and its only day two.
I take a quick shower and blow-dry my hair before sliding on a pair of shorts with a black tank top and my favorite pink Converse. We head out of our dorm and grab an iced Frappuccino from the corner café on our way to the bookstore. If I was stranded on a deserted island and I could only have two things, one would be a radio and the other would be coffee, hands down.
“What are you majoring in?” my new blonde friend asks.
It takes me a moment to respond. I decide to stick with a short to the point answer. “Nursing. You?”
“Psychology with a minor in sign language,” she pauses to sip her coffee. “I grew up a tad sheltered. My dad is the pastor of a church a few towns over, and needless to say he, and my momma tried to instill their religious beliefs in me. Don’t get me wrong, I believe in God and all, but I just had to get away, form my own paths and learn from my own mistakes, not my parents’ mistakes. I want to screw up, cry over broken hearts, and break a few,” she laughs while nudging me in the side.
“Trust me, I of all people understand wanting to start over.” Then, that was that. She didn’t ask what my story was or why I was interested in nursing, nor did she make me feel guilty for not sharing. She just grabbed my hand and we walked.
My dream has been to become a nurse since the accident. I know there was nothing I could have done to save them considering they were pronounced dead by the coroner before Jude and I got there, but for some reason, it made me feel compelled to help others in need. One counselor told me I play the “What-if” game too much. What if I could have done CPR, what if I could have controlled the bleeding until they got
to the hospital? In reality I know I couldn’t have done anything, but one day I would like to be that person, that nurse who can make a difference. I want to be the person who runs into a room in the middle of a code, who performs CPR until the elderly patient can breathe on their own again or I want to be the nurse who is walking her dog and sees a car accident and can keep the person alive long enough for EMS to arrive. I know I couldn’t make a difference then, but I can in the future, and I will.
We arrive at the bookstore and go our separate ways. I gather all of my books for this semester and head to the checkout line. Glancing around to see if Lucy is done, I find her standing with a guy who looked like he just rode in on horseback, tall, dark, and handsome, wearing tight Levi’s that hang in all the right places and cowboy boots. His hand is on her cheek that is visibly blushing. If she wanted a few heart breaks under her belt, this man could surely accomplish that. I laugh under my breath, knowing that her sweet innocent charm is all a front. Well, I assume it is after knowing she spent the night with a total scum bag last night.
I'm next in line and immediately recognize the cashier. It's Kyler. I debate on turning around and walking away, considering the chump I made of myself, but I don’t have time because he looks up and we make eye contact. I feel drawn to him immediately. I lay my pile of books and supplies on the counter, but he doesn’t say a word nor does he seem to notice me, which is borderline rude. I imagine he thinks I’m a huge freak after my outburst so I try to lighten the mood. “Looks like you’re a jack of all trades,” I joke.
He holds out his hands, motioning to the open air around him and huffs, “It appears so.”
I watch him while he rings up each book on the cash register.
“Your total is $976.89 Hale,” he says while bagging up my books that cost almost as much as my entire wardrobe. The sound of my name rolling off his tongue invigorates me and pisses me off at the same time.
“I don’t know what you read in my application or file, but I would appreciate if you stopped calling me that,” I snap at him in a low voice, infuriated that this is the second time he has addressed me as Hale. I grab my wallet and toss my credit card on the counter. He slides the plastic then places my card and receipt in front of me. I angrily shove my card back into my wallet and pick up my giant bag of textbooks before storming out of the door. No wonder he thinks you’re nuts.
“Haley, wait,” he pleads as his feet follow mine step by step.
I ignore him and speed up my pace. He finally catches up to me and grabs my hand, pulling me closer to his body. The warmth from his skin touching mine doesn’t ease my anger; it only irritates me more. Who does he think he is, touching me?
“Look, I don’t know what your problem is, but I won’t call you Hale anymore. I didn’t know it was a big deal, and for the record I don’t read through people’s files. Your application picture was included. I don’t know why but it stood out to me. When you ran into me yesterday, I knew exactly who you were,” he takes a breath as he shakes his head shamelessly.
He just admitted he recognized me. “No one has called me Hale in a long time. It took me off guard,” I look down, playing with my metallic painted finger nails. He doesn’t say anything, so I keep going. “I didn’t mean to wig out last night.”
“No apologies necessary. I’ll see ya around campus.” Then he turned and walked away, leaving me standing alone. I watch him walk down a few steps and turn into the SAC building he chased me from only moments before. I’m not sure why I watch him. No guy has ever gotten under my skin, other than Jude.
“Haley, what was that about?” Lucy asks as she marches towards me.
“Nothing. I don’t even know who he is.”
She raises her eyebrows, waiting for a real answer. “I ran into him yesterday when I was checking in and then again last night at the party. He drove me home on his bike.” Lucy looks lost, so I continue, “He introduced himself as Kyler after you and Kevin ran into a bedroom last night. Then today I was checking out and he called me Hale. I felt strange around him so I stormed off. Come to find out he not only works in the admin office, but in the bookstore too!” I shouted while talking with my hands in the air. “I lost it and told him to leave me the hell alone.” I finished my rant as Lucy grabbed me and patted me on the back.
“Oh sweetie,” she says as we stand in front of the campus fountain with our books sprawled out all around us. “You should probably steer clear of Kyler King. He is nothing but a volcano waiting to erupt.”
It was my turn to look bewildered. “What do you mean?”
“He hasn’t already gotten to you has he? I should have known when Kevin asked him to take you home last night and he didn’t hesitate that something was up. He is a player Haley. Seriously, watch out for him. He and Kevin are in the same frat. Girls are coming and going from there twenty-four-seven. He gets the goods and sends them packing, if you know what I mean.”
We both pick up our bags and head back in the direction of our dorm.
“Listen, while I appreciate your warning, I’m a big girl. I’ve been taking care of myself for some time, and trust me I’m not the least bit interested in Kyler King,” I say, knowing full well that something inside of me is definitely interested. When he is around, a part of me that I have hidden feels free of the past that burdens my happiness. It’s as if his piercing blue eyes can see right through the facade I’ve made my life out to be, and the past couple years of agony are suddenly gone. My heart isn’t heavy and weighed down with grief anymore. Being informed that he is a heartbreaker only validates my reasons for steering clear. Gorgeous or not, I would be sure to keep Kyler at a safe distance.
“Good girl,” she says with satisfaction.
We walk in silence the rest of the way back to the dorms, textbooks swinging in our matching university bags.
“Let’s take a little cat nap,” I say as I crawl under the quilt my mom made me that she liked to call a ‘first of the year gift’. She always bought my brother, Mason and I a gift or something special on the first day of school each year. Since it had been the beginning of my senior year in high school, she went all out and made me a quilt. Each square was made out of a T-shirt from a vacation we went on. There are a few on there made from my baby clothes. My favorite piece was in the middle of the quilt. It was cut in the shape of a heart, and the material was made out of my mom’s pillowcase. Every time I was sick when I was younger, I always cried for her pillow. Knowing it would make me feel better, she would cave in and let me sleep with it. When Mason came along, it was the only thing that calmed him down. I guess it was her smell, a calming scent like a meadow full of lilies in the summer. I rubbed the frayed edges, reminiscing on the memories. That’s all I had these days, memories keeping my family alive. I drifted off to sleep.
“Get up!” I hear Lucy say as I dart up, pulling my blankets up with me. “Get up Hale! Wait. I’m sorry. I know you don’t like that. But all day you have been calling me Luce, and I kind of like it. It feels like we’re friends. Like Luce and Hale against the world!”
Friends. I remember those. They are amongst the things I left back in Jersey. My family, my boyfriend and friends, I left them all. Long before I ran one thousand miles across the United States and found myself starting a new college. It would be nice to call someone a friend again.
“We are friends Luce! What time is it?” I ask, too groggy to look at the clock myself.
“Six p.m.,” she huffs.
Whoa. I slept the day away. I get up and stumble over clothes laying everywhere then notice they aren’t just clothes, but dresses and sandals too. They’re scattered all over the dorm. I look at Lucy who is standing in the center of the room smirking. I’ve barely known her for forty-eight hours and already I know that smirk means she is up to no good.
“Well…there is this swank little bar down the street. Kevin said he could hook us up with fake IDs if we wanted to meet up with him tonight,” she says with a plastered on smile.
&n
bsp; “Number one, didn’t I just see you with a member of the local rodeo groping all over you? Number two, didn’t you just tell me to stay away from Kyler?”
“Oh darling,” she holds a dress up to her in the full length mirror hung on our wall, “he won’t be there. He never goes out. All he does is study and work. He is actually kind of uptight if you ask me.”
Kyler King, uptight. The thought makes me almost laugh out loud. “How did he get his precious player status then?” I ask out of curiosity.
“Don’t get me wrong. He has girls banging on his front door all the time. I guess it’s the fact he is so non-tangible that has girls throwing their panties at him,” she admits.
Now even more curious I ask, “What do you mean non-tangible?”
“For someone you’re not interested in you sure have a lot of questions about him.”
I don’t reply as I get up and go into the bathroom we share, shutting the door behind me. “Get a grip Hale. She is right. What’s with the twenty questions?” I say out loud, staring at myself in the mirror.
I take a few soothing breaths before unlocking the barrier between me and my doubting friend. As soon as I am out of the doorway, Lucy rushes in locking the door behind her. I hear her turn on the shower. I guess I dodged the rest of that conversation. I don’t know what time she was planning on leaving, so I grab my laptop and climb on top of my bed. I start up the notebook I bought with some of the life insurance money I inherited and hit the blue icon. It’s been a long time since I’ve been on any form of social media. I didn’t have the courage to delete it nor did I have the courage to log back on. “What better time than the present time?” I mumble under my breath.
The Upside of Letting Go Page 2
