“It’s me honey,” Lucy says from the hallway. I reach to unlock the deadbolt. “What am I going to do with you Hale?” She whispers as she slides into the tiny bathroom.
“I don’t know, that’s just what I was asking myself,” honestly, not knowing why I just dry humped a stranger in a Podunk bar.
“You want to leave and deal with this later?” she picks my clutch up off of the counter and grabs my hand. We leave Drake’s without saying goodbye to anyone. Somehow I don’t really care.
We walk hand in hand to the nearest coffee shop. Caffeine can cure anything. It’s nearly closing, and we’re the only people there, so we decide to take our drinks to go. We end up sitting on the sidewalk in front of our dorm.
“Let me give you some advice. I know we just met a few days ago, but I’ve heard stories about Kyler. When I say he isn’t tangible I mean it,” she says while fiddling with the small white lid on her cup. I take a sip of my drink while silently urging her to continue. She looks around from side to side and then quietly says, “His father was a history professor here at the college. A few months ago he and his mom were headed downtown to an art gala hosted by his twin sister, Riley. There was an accident. His parents died on impact in the wreck. A drunk driver or something I heard. Anyways, to make matters worse, his sister couldn’t deal with their loss. She quit her sorority and started flunking classes, which wasn’t like her. Their parents were great. Kevin speaks very highly of them. Long story short, she just couldn’t handle her depression after the accident, so she committed suicide. He won’t let anyone get close to him. I assume that’s why he hits it and quits it.”
It all makes sense now, his hot and cold moods. He is as scared of getting close to someone as I am, not to mention our similar family histories. I feel a sudden sense of raw emotion not only for Kyler and the grief he must be going through, but all of my own pains start to resurface. I know I need to get away from Lucy before she notices, and I have to explain why I’m an emotional mess.
“That’s a bummer, but it explains a lot about him,” I say to divert the overwhelming negative energy lingering around me. Lucy shakes her head up and down in agreement. I stand up and wipe my butt off before I remove the wedges that are now killing my feet. “Lucy, I’m going to go for a walk for a while and wind down. It’s been an intense night.”
“Okay girl, just be careful and keep your phone on just in case you need to call for help,” she says as she stands up and winks at me before turning around to head in the opposite direction.
I don’t know where I’m going, but anywhere is better than sulking in front of someone else, especially someone I am beginning to trust. I wish I didn’t know what he was going through, but I know all too well. Losing a family member is always devastating, but losing your entire family in one day feels like someone literally cutting open your chest and ripping your heart out with their bare hands. It is a pain so unfathomable I catch myself holding my breath thinking about it as a sudden sob escapes from my throat. I make my way to a park a few blocks away from the dorms and sit on an empty bench before the waterworks start. I don’t like to cry, and I try to hold it in, but this news is like hearing about my parents’ and brother’s deaths all over again. I guess it just hit a little too close to home.
My safe haven was what I considered home after dad got sick. It was the only place I could go and think clearly without all of the chaos in the background. When I was younger and before Mason was even born, Dad and I built a tree house in the farthest oak in the backyard. At the time, I was young and requested he paint it pink with tons of sparkles. But as I grew, the paint chipped, and so did the good memories I had of the long summers spent up there with Dad by my side.
We would lie there for hours, and he would listen to me talk, mostly about what the girls were saying in my dance class or what type of flip I learned in gymnastics that day. It didn’t matter what the topic was, Dad sat and listened like it was his only purpose on the planet. When Mason was born, I would go out there to get away from his crying and then it became my “home”. Everything in it was mine until a few years ago, when Mason was old enough to climb the ladder. He eventually took over the tree house and filled it with Hulk figurines and posters of wrestlers.
I can remember a few times when Dad got out of hand, Mom would say “tree house”, and I knew what she meant. I would get Mason, even if it was in the middle of the night and we would go lie in the tree house until Mom said the coast was clear. It wasn’t for our safety. Dad was never violent, just loud. He screamed a lot, and often we found him hysterically crying in random parts of the house after one of his outburst. That day, when my world crashed and my house was surrounded with yellow caution tape, I went to the only place I felt safe –my home in the tree house.
Before I know it, a few weeks have passed since the kiss in the bar. I don’t know why, but Kyler and I have been avoiding each other at all cost. I can’t really say what we are both avoiding, but I know the feeling is definitely mutual. It’s like we have this connection. A very strange connection considering our only link was both of our families was dead, but still it’s something connecting me to someone else. I caught him looking at me a few times when we passed on campus, and I have been on the guilty end a few times when he caught me staring back. That is the extent of our friendship or whatever the hell you would call this. I can only vouch for my own actions, which right now are set on keeping my distance. Maybe for my own protection, who knows?
Lucy and Kevin have kept up with their love-hate relationship. I couldn’t blame her for wanting to test the waters. I just wish she didn’t choose such low-lifes to test them with. There was this guy last week who asked me if I wanted to join him in the shower while she was sleeping. I picked up a random boot that I can only assume was his and chucked it at him. Needless to say, he never got his shower. The week after that I finally met the cowboy I saw her with at the bookstore. Sean was his name. He seemed like an average guy until we learned that he posed for some weird type of cowboy porn on the weekends to pay for his classes. To each his own.
Everything else seemed to be going good. I was passing my classes, which was another rare change. I figured since I ruined my scholarship at Montclair State and was now paying out of pocket for school I should probably try and apply myself more. The thing was my classes were all easy. I guess since I wasn’t always high or hungover it was easier to concentrate.
Lucy and I have become really close and have even met a few other girls on campus through mutual classes. I don’t normally do the whole girlfriend thing, but since I’m trying new things, I figured a few close girlfriends were okay. We all meet up weekly for pedicures, and since Kristy shares a house with her boyfriend Parker close to campus, we normally hang out there. Parker is in business with his dad at some private investigation company so he is rarely home, and Kristy has a thing for sappy romance novels, so we mostly drink cheap wine from a box and watch chick flicks all night.
Tonight we’re headed over to Kristy’s. One of her friends, Samantha, is supposed come over and chill with us. Lucy and I have never met her, but she seems cool from what Kristy has said, and since it isn’t our house, we don’t really have a say who can be there and who can’t. A few hours and a box of wine later, we’re on our second movie for the night. I’m sitting on the floor in front of Luce, who is on couch. She is braiding my hair, just like my mom used to do.
We’re about halfway through the movie. And although we all know every single word, we still hate when there are interruptions, so we keep our phones stored in our purses in the other room. I hear a cell ring, and the girl we now know as Samantha gets off of the sofa and heads towards the spare bedroom.
She picks up the ringing phone and says, “Hello?” Lucy grabs the remote and pushes pause, huffing under her breath. “Why don’t you stop calling me? Or do you bug all of your exes like you’re doing to me?” A few seconds pass before she says anything else. “Kyler, leave me alone! What do I have to do
to get that through your fucking skull?”
My ears perk up as the name she screams grabs my attention. It’s been weeks since our kiss. I turned down countless invitations to Kevin’s parties simply because I knew for a fact Kyler would be there. I don’t know why we are both acting so childish, but he clearly doesn’t want to be my friend. So why give him the time of day? It is easier just to keep my distance and avoid the whole situation.
“Kyler. Listen. To. Me,” her voice sounds harsh. “No! You don’t get it. I know what I saw! I saw that bitch on top of you shirtless! No, you can’t ‘Baby’ yourself out of this one. Leave me alone. We’re done. I was stupid to give you a chance. Everyone tried to warn me, and now who looks stupid? Me! Do not call me again. I’m changing my number. Oh, and Kyler,” she says, and I can only assume he said ‘what’ because she kept going, “you’re going to end up a lonely old man if you don’t let someone in. You can’t fuck your way through life or girls here at this school because you’re running out of women.” She slams the phone down and marches back into the living room where we’re all sitting pretending not to eavesdrop.
I snap my head back around as Lucy slaps me on my shoulder. Damn, I’m caught.
“Is it really over this time?” Kristy asks Samantha as she grabs a seat on the floor next to me.
“Yeah, it was only a matter of time before I caught that cheating bastard in a lie and now look, I caught him red handed,” she takes the last drink from her glass and reaches over me to the end table filling it back up with amber liquid.
Lucy stands up and starts gathering our stuff. I take it as my cue that it’s time to go. I quickly put my shoes on so I don’t get left behind in this awkward situation. We pick up our empty glasses, walk them to the kitchen, and exchange a glance that says “Let’s get the hell out of here”. We walk back into the living room and sling our purses over our shoulders.
Once at the door I turn and say, “Hey Kristy, thanks for letting us chill here. We’re going to get going. We both have early mid-terms.”
“Okay girls. Next week, same time?” Lucy and I both nod then make our way outside. We walk down the driveway in silence. I feel like a child whose mother is waiting to scold until they’re in a private place.
“Need any more proof he is no good?” Lucy asks as we reach the street.
“Oh. My. Gosh. It was one kiss. One simple, innocent, little peck! We’re practically strangers. Trust me. Kyler is the last person I am thinking about.”
“If you say so Hale.” She sulks as we continue walking. “Look, don’t get all pissy with me. I just want what’s best for you. You’re my best friend. I know you don’t open up to people, Lord knows why. I mean I know nothing about you, your family, or your life before in Jersey. You have no pictures on display, high school sweatshirts, or stories about your first love. I don’t know much about you Hale, but I know Kyler King got to you. You can keep up this little charade, pretending he didn’t, but I know he did.” She grabs my hand that is hanging to my side and squeezes it. “I’m going to head home and study. Be careful,” she turns and walks away, leaving me standing alone on the sidewalk in the middle of the night. I can’t blame her though; I know she sees straight through me, and I hate to admit it, but she is right. He did get to me. Something about him I wish I could pinpoint did. He must have felt it too because he has been avoiding me like the plague, but why? He proved he didn’t know anything about my past, and I’m almost sure he doesn’t know I am aware of his. The only other explanation I can think of is he is scared and pushing me away just like I did to all of those others after Jude, just like he did to Samantha. He doesn’t hit it and quit it, he hits it and runs. Yet another similarity between us, great.
Lucy is a little ways in front of me when I check the time on my phone. It’s still a decent hour, so I decide to walk to Drake’s to get a much needed drink. It’s chilly out, an indication fall is well on its way. A drink to warm me up is just what I need to take this edge off. I walk through the doors to find the place is packed. I don’t see anyone I know from my classes, so I walk up to the corner of the bar. I know Kyler wouldn’t be working since he was just calling Samantha. He wouldn’t have time to call and grovel to her from work since it was always so busy here, so I decided to stay and have a drink. An older man I’ve never seen here before is behind the bar juggling bottles. He comes up to me with a grin on his face and asks for my order.
“Spiced Rum and Coke please,” I shout at the man behind the bar over the noise surrounding us.
“ID darling,” he says in a low, sultry voice like the raucous music doesn’t bother him.
“Here ya go.” I pull it out of my wallet. He glances at it and then back at me.
“You’re a long way from home, aren’t ya?”
“You could say that.” He eyes my ID once more before handing it back to me.
“Here ya go darling. Be careful; we have a rowdy crowd tonight,” he extends his hand in front of him. “I’m Drake. If you have any problems, let me know.” We shake before he turns around to start mixing my drink.
The infamous Drake in all his glory is really just a sweet old man.
I sit on the bar stool surveying the area. I can feel sweaty bodies all around me. Drake was right, it was packed. I felt a hand graze over my ass. Before I could turn around, I felt someone’s hot breath upon my neck. Without hesitation I jump off of the stool and stomp my heel on the person’s foot. I hear a male voice moan in agony. When I feel his body bend down in response to the pain, I pull my arm up close to my chest and then release it fast, elbowing the person in the face.
“What the fuck, Haley?” That voice. I know that voice.
“Kyler?”
I turn around to see him standing directly behind me holding his bloody nose. Drake must have noticed the commotion because he rushes over holding a wet towel. Drake looks at me as I shrug my shoulders. “I can hold my own.”
“I can see that. I just wish it wasn’t one of my employees,” Drake shakes his head, “but you guys need to take this out of my bar. Kyler, go in the back and get your face cleaned up.”
Kyler turns around walking away without another word. He walks by the bar and through a hallway into a small office. I’m not sure what to do, so I follow him. The office we walk into has a small desk and sofa in it. There is a black steel door with an emergency exit sign towards the back of the room. I guess it’s an employee lounge because there is a small table with a microwave sitting on an island.
“Kyler, I am so sorry. I didn’t know it was you behind me. I thought some molester was touching my ass.” He doesn’t say anything back nor does he look at me. He leans down and pulls out a chair at the small table and sits down, holding his nose with his eyes shut. The white towel is now a bright shade of red. I feel so guilty, but I don’t know what to do. If he didn’t hate me before, then he will hate me in the morning when his gorgeous face is black and blue.
I move a chair directly in front of his and sit down. He still doesn’t open his eyes. I stand up, walk over to a small rack with paper towels and other supplies sitting on it, grab some clean rags and run them under warm water. I sit back down before I place my hand on his cheek and lift his chin with my index finger. “This might hurt, but I want to get all the blood off of your face,” I whisper as I softly wipe his face with the new warm rag. The cloth turns colors with each stoke I make. He doesn’t flinch, which is a good sign, but I can tell his nose is already starting to bruise. Given the circumstances, I guess I did a decent job. My parents had sent me to a few self-defense classes when I started high school. I’m sure they would be glad to know they paid off, for me at least. He finally opened his eyes. I watched them trail from my hand inches away from his mouth up my arm until his soft blue eyes met mine.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, feeling like a complete ass for breaking his nose.
“Stop saying that,” he demands. “I deserved it. I grabbed your ass.” I watch his eyelids slowly start to shut as he
inhales deeply. The smell of liquor is apparent in the air.
I can feel him slipping down in his seat. The booze is definitely doing its job. I press my knees against his, bone to bone, in attempt to keep him in an upright position. If I move, there is no doubt he will slide right off of the chair onto the dusty floor. Whew, the whiskey is strong on his breath. How much has he had to drink tonight? I don’t have to wonder the reason he is in this drunken stupor. His reason’s name is Samantha, and I was sharing a bowl of popcorn with her a few hours ago. The thought makes me want to punch him in the face, again. I don’t know why I feel some crazed sense of possession over him. We aren’t an item; we aren’t anything.
“Mr. King, I think you’re drunk. Very drunk,” I say jokingly trying to mask my seriousness.
“I think you’re right Miss Martin,” he confesses while tripping over his own words.
“Well, I’d love to say your nose is as good as new, but we both know that isn’t the case. You’re probably going to need to see a doctor in the morning. I’ll go call you a cab, since you’re too tore up to drive. I’ll be right back, so try not to fall off of the chair,” I say as I grab my bag and head back to the bar.
Drake sees me come out of the room and walks up to me in the hallway. “Is it broken?”
“Most definitely! Dumb ass shouldn’t be groping people, if he doesn’t know how to defend himself,” I say back to him jokingly, but it is the truth.
“I like you, Miss…?” he pauses.
“Haley Martin.”
“Miss Martin. He is too trashed to drive. I’ll call him a cab. Do you mind riding back with him to make sure he gets back okay?” Drake asks.
“Ugh. Sure, but if he tries anything else, he is going to have a busted eye next,” I say while trying to keep my laughing to a minimum.
The Upside of Letting Go Page 4
