by Lane, Bayli
Shocked, I sit in my seat completely frozen. I know I should stand up and go to him and explain myself, but I don’t even know where to begin. How can I explain that I feel like I’m one person with him and another person with Sander? How can I tell him that I can’t give up on Sander, that I’m not ready to say goodbye, and that I’m not sure if I will ever be able to say goodbye? How do I tell him that I’m so, so crazy about him and seeing that look of pain on his face could bring me to my knees? How do I tell him that I like the person I am when I’m with him, but I’m scared to let go of the Lilly I am with Sander? How do I tell him that he makes me laugh, and smile, he makes me want to be happy, that he makes me happy, but that I still can’t choose?
I don’t say any of those things. I just sit like a fish out of water and watch as the man who has flipped my world upside down stares at me. Right when I’m about to get the courage to walk over to him, he shakes his head, mouthing something that looks an awful lot like ‘son of a bitch,’ and then turns and walks back down the bleachers and away from me.
Why did I ever agree to come to this stupid ass football game? Tears start pricking at my eyes and my lungs take in a deep wet breath, but it doesn’t help. It sounds strangled and painful. I gasp a sob and cover my eyes. I let a few tears fall before I remember where I am. Looking around I notice a few people watching me. A couple girls have a look of sympathy, while others are clearly annoyed with my crying.
I just ruined everything with Colton. Everything. He’ll probably never even talk to me again. It’s at this very moment that I realize my feelings for him have grown far more than I originally thought. I know I need to go home and cry, because if I don’t I’m just going to be miserable here. Sander will wonder what’s wrong with me, and I won’t be able to tell him. I have no one to confide in because Lauren and I aren’t even talking, and Clarissa is Colton’s best friend. I have no one but myself, and the only way I can think to help myself is to find Sander and beg him to take me home.
I stand up and march down the bleachers quickly, which is unusual for me since bleachers always make me feel like I’m about to fall to my death. I guess when, already in pain, falling down steps doesn’t seem so bad.
I head to the concession stand but don’t see a sign of Sander or Bryan. I walk over to the bathrooms and wait outside to see if either of them exits; they don’t. I walk around aimless for nearly fifteen minutes until I hear a laugh that I know better than anyone else’s coming from underneath the bleachers. I walk over to the sound and smell cigarette smoke as well a sweet but earthy odor. I know exactly what that is, and I also know exactly what that means. Sander is getting high. I huff out a breath, pissed. I just can’t win today. I walk forward and stand a few feet away, waiting for Sander to notice me. He’s standing with Bryan and some other guys, a couple girls, and Lauren. My jaw drops as I watch Lauren swallow a couple pills, down them with a beer, and follow with a hit from the joint they are passing around.
“Lauren,” I say sounding choked up. “What are you doing here? Where have you been?”
She cackles and looks at me like I’m stupid, then gestures to the guys I don’t recognize. “Friends,” she says and then points at me. “Meet my best friend and no-fun-having roommate, Lilly.”
I narrow my eyes. “Nice,” I mutter and turn towards Sander and just raise my shoulders up with question.
“Oh come on, Lilly, relax,” he says and takes a large swig from the flask that Bryan hands to him. “Come have a drink.”
“And who’s going to drive us home?” I say annoyed.
“I will,” he says.
“No you won’t; you’ve been drinking,” I answer and roll my eyes. “You’ve probably been doing more than drinking.”
“What did you just say?” Sander asks with anger.
“You’re probably high!” I step forward and yell in his face. “You promised!” I continue. “You swore!”
Sander grabs my shoulders and shakes me hard, spitting out angry, hurtful words that I can’t make out because I’m too busy listening to my brain bounce around in my head and hearing my teeth clink together from the force at which he’s handling me.
“Sander, stop,” Lauren says.
“Shut up, bitch!” he yells, whether to me or Lauren I can’t be sure.
He does let me go, though. I close my eyes, trying to find balance, and I hear Lauren scream from pain and then a loud slam. I open my eyes quickly and see her spread on the ground like she has just fallen or been shoved. I look around confused, and then see Sander walking towards her ready for a fight.
What the hell is happening? I lunge and jump onto Sander’s back yelling, screaming, and begging for him to leave Lauren alone. I can hear Lauren crying and trying to shuffle away, asking the other guys for help. But no one is moving. I start slapping at Sander’s face and yanking on his hair—anything to get him to take his focus off of Lauren.
It finally works. I dig my nails into his neck; he growls in pain and twists around, throwing me off of his back. I watch in slow motion as his hand pulls back and then comes forward—backhanding me across my left eye.
My body shouts at me from pain and tells me to run. So I do. I turn and run as fast as I can away from Sander. I make it to the parking lot and stop. I fall to the ground and cry. I reach up and touch the tenderness of my eye. It doesn’t seem to be swelling up or anything, but it hurts fiercely.
I bite my lower lip as I consider getting up and running back to my dorm, but just like the last time something like this happened with Sander, I’m scared that he’ll show up and do more damage. Instead I sit between two cars and let myself sob uncontrollably.
I’m not sure how long it’s been, but I see a shadow standing in front of me. The first things I notice are the shoes. I know exactly who it is.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter.
He walks over and crouches in front of me. I still have my hand covering my left eye but I look up and into Colton’s eyes. “Are you mad?” I ask. A silly question—of course he’s mad.
Colton reaches up and touches my arm. I take a deep breath as he pulls my hand down and away from my eye. His eyes open and his lips curl.
“Did he do this to you?” he asks furiously.
I ignore the question, “I know I have no right to ask you this, but can you take me to Clarissa’s?”
He stares at me for a moment and then stands up. He reaches down and grabs a hold of my waist and gently helps me up. “Thanks,” I say as he continues to lead me to his car with a hand on my lower back.
“Once I get you in your seat, I’m going to go kick his ass. Where is he?” Colton says stiffly.
“No,” I beg. A flashback of my earlier daydream sprints to my mind. I can’t let Colton do that kind of damage.
“Lilly, I can’t just pretend this didn’t happen. I’m going to kill this jack-off,” Colton promises and situates me into my seat.
I put my hand over my eye and cringe at the pain. “Colton, please, “I beg. “Please take me to Clarissa’s.”
He looks over his shoulder and back towards the football stadium and then back at me, weighing his options.
“Fine,” He lets out an audible breath. “For now.”
When he gets into the car we sit in silence. He drives and ends up stopping at a gas station. “We have to get some ice on your eye, and that’s the only reason I’m in this car right now instead of pummeling that bastard to a bloody pulp,” he says and then gets out of the car, not waiting for me to say anything.
He comes back quickly with Ziploc bags and a small bag of ice. He opens the bag, grabs a handful of the cubes, and puts them into a sandwich bag before handing it to me and silently ordering me to put it against my eye.
He starts driving. I’ve only been to Clarissa’s a couple of times, but I know we aren’t heading there the second we leave the gas station. He makes a turn in the wrong direction. Instead of questioning, I lay back in my seat and close my eyes with the ice pack pressed coolly a
gainst me.
I hear the sound of gravel underneath the car and feel the car stop and the engine turn off. I peel my eyes open and see we’re in the field, the field where I took Colton weeks ago. Happy memories fly through my mind as I hear Colton open and then close his door when he gets out. I watch him walk to the front of the car. He runs his hands through his hair roughly and then down his face. He kicks hard at the ground and then starts cursing wildly.
I remain sitting and watching him until he calms down enough that the cursing subsides, and he just stands there with his hands in his pockets looking at the ground like it just murdered his puppy. I step out of the car. When he hears me, he starts walking through the overgrown grass, expecting me to follow. So I do—nervously, but I do.
I continue to walk a few steps behind him until he stops and looks up at the sky. I copy his movement and look up. The stars are hidden tonight by dark, menacing clouds.
Colton grunts and then turns to me, “Lilly, I don’t know what else to fucking do here,” he says it with rage, not quite yelling.
He doesn’t know what to do now that he knows I’ve been seeing Sander still. It’s even worse now that he’s seen what Sander has done to my face. I don’t know what to say to him, so I just stand there like a little girl being chastised by her parents and wait for more.
I squeeze my eyes shut. I’ve hurt him so much, so fucking much, and I hate it. The tears are burning my eyes, but I don’t know what to say to make this better.
“Say something, Lilly! Say fucking anything,” he begs.
He’s gorgeous even when he’s in pain. All I can think about is taking his lower lip in between my teeth and nibbling. I want to feel that cold metal ring through his lip on mine. I want to run my hands through his hair and then down his neck and arms, tracing each and every tattoo he has.
His pained expression just gets worse the more I look at him.
“How can you still be with him, after everything he’s done? The way you’re looking at me Lilly… I don’t fucking understand!” He’s looking at me, but I don’t even think he can see me anymore. He runs his hands through his hair and yanks and pulls with frustration.
I run over to him and grab his hands to stop them from pulling. “Please, stop,” I whisper. A tear drops down my cheek. I’m on the edge of breaking, and I’m having trouble holding back my tears now.
I don’t know why I can’t let go of Sander. He’s cruel. He can’t possibly love me. I don’t even think I love him, but I just can’t seem to let him go. We’ve been together for so long I don’t know who I am without him. How do I even go on without the person that has been my everything for the past four years? I don’t think I can. I’m too weak. I know I am. It doesn’t matter how much I want Colton. It doesn’t matter that he has become more than my best friend. It doesn’t matter that he would hurt anyone who hurts me. It doesn’t matter that I can’t see my life without him in it, because when it comes down to it, I’m just not ready for this. I’m not ready to let go what I have with Sander. I can’t let go when our relationship is in a rocky place, even if it’s a really rocky place. I know it looks bad. I get it. I do. Why would anyone in their right mind stay with someone who talks to me like he does, who hurts me the way he does? But I just keep thinking this isn’t going to last forever, that he’s going through something, and I need to stand by his side and help him push through it.
Colton reaches up and touches my cheeks, “Baby, please tell me why you can’t walk away. What does he have on you? Please, make me understand. Fuck. Christ. Please,” he’s begging and it’s ripping my heart into two.
I roughly wipe the tears that are falling from my cheeks. “I just can’t,” I whisper and look down. I can’t look into those beautiful hazel eyes right now.
His shoulders slump forward in defeat, “Lilly, I don’t think I can do this anymore.”
I look up with shocked eyes, like I’ve been slapped. What the fuck does that mean?
“Colton, what?” I question with confusion clear in my eyes.
“You and I both know this…” he points to himself, and then to me, “this is not just friendship. It’s not just two people fucking around for a good time, and I can’t keep pretending it is.”
He’s leaving me. My heart rips in half. I can feel it shredding. It’s broken. I know he hasn’t ever been my boyfriend… we’ve never claimed to be anyway. He’s never said he loves me, and I’ve never told him that either. I don’t know if I do, but right now I feel like I’m being broken up with. That’s the only way I can explain this feeling ripping through my chest. My hands fly to my heart like they are trying to hold every piece together, but it’s not working. I’m breathing hard, yet it feels like I’m not breathing enough. There isn’t enough air. It feels like the wind has been knocked out of me? I can’t catch it. The tears are streaming down my face now. I’m sobbing silently.
I look up through my blurred vision, trying to see his face. I can’t. Come on, Lilly, stop being so weak. You can deal with this. He’ll get over it. He’ll call you tomorrow and everything will be fine. But something in me tells me he won’t, and I fall to the ground and sob even harder. A whimper escapes my mouth before I can even think to hold it down. I cover my mouth, but the whimpers keep coming.
Colton kneels in front of me and lifts my arms up and around his neck. He puts his face into the crook of my neck and starts whispering soothing words. I don’t deserve them, but he does it anyway. Sander would never do this now. He would be in the other ear yelling hurtful words at me.
“Baby, stop. God, please stop.” He runs his hand through my hair, “What do you want me to do?”
“Don’t leave me,” I sob into his shirt.
“You’ve made your choice,” he says quietly.
I pull away and rub my eyes. I’m getting irritated. I can’t believe I’m acting like this. This new Lilly shouldn’t be so weak. I thought I’d grown to be better than this. I’m mad because Colton was supposed to be my best friend and the guy that wouldn’t hurt me. He said that would never change, and he lied!
“Fuck you, Colton,” I spit. “What choice did I ever have?!”
His eyes widen with surprise and then narrow with purpose. The fire is igniting in his eyes as well. This is about to get ugly. “Well you could fuck me, but you’re too damn busy letting that piece of shit get into your pants!” he yells back. “And what do you mean ‘what choice did you have?’ I’m standing right in front of you, Lilly! I’m telling you I want you; I’m telling you I am your other choice!”
“You don’t know shit, Colton! You said you were my best friend!” I shove him.
He grips my hands and holds them to his chest, “Best friend or not, this isn’t working for either of us.” He isn’t yelling, but I can tell he’s still pissed. That makes two of us. He never once told me he wanted to be with me, not once. As far as I knew we were friends that got to make out every once and awhile.
“Well if you want to leave, then just leave!” I yell in his face.
“You know what I want…” he says sadly. He pauses, waiting for me to say something. I don’t. “Let me take you back to your dorm.”
Weeks go by, and I still haven’t heard from Colton. It’s been weeks of me crying, eating ice cream, going to random parties, getting trashed, and then walking back home to my empty dorm room. No Lauren, no Sander, no Colton… Clarissa still talks to me, but she told me I was a complete idiot for screwing things up with Colton. I agree. I royally fucked this all up. The worst part is that I still don’t know what to do.
Sander came by and apologized a few days after the incident. He saw my purple eye and almost had a heart attack. Again, he couldn’t believe that he had actually hurt me. Well take a look, asshole. You did. Not knowing what else to do, I let him hug me and then told him to call me later. Honestly, Sander hitting me hasn’t been the worst pain I’ve gone through recently. Every time my phone sings the sound of a text, I jump up in hopes that Colton has finally contacte
d me, but it’s never him.
I’m on the fourth week of not seeing Colton, and I literally can’t take it any longer. It just hurts too damn much thinking that I’ve lost him forever. I have to see him. I’m not sure of what to say when I finally do, but I refuse to stay in my room wallowing when I know exactly where Colton will be tonight.
I decide that I am going to a bar tonight to hear Colton sing. He didn’t invite me, which I can’t blame him for, and I don’t know if he’ll be willing to forgive me for wanting both him and Sander. If I were in his place, I would give me the middle finger and say, “fuck yourself, bitch,” and then go find myself a girl that deserves me. But here’s to hoping he doesn’t want to do that. Here’s to hoping that he’s willing to give me another shot because I can’t see my life without him in it. I don’t want a life without Colton.
I find out from a few people that Colton and his band mates are performing at a new bar at around 10:00 pm tonight. When I get home from the library, I research the bar because I’ve never been there before. As it turns out, this place gets kind of crazy. The pictures that are on the website show most people wearing black, and it seems everyone has tattoos, piercings, and crazy hair. I guess I should have thought of that when I heard the bar’s name is “Pins & Needles.”
I grab my newest push up bra from Victoria Secret. It’s black, lacy, and all around plain sexy. I love it. I slip it and the matching panties on and then shimmy into a skintight black dress with two diagonal red stripes going from my left breast down the length of the dress and hitting the hem on the right side. The dress barely covers my ass, and my boobs stick out, begging to be noticed—hopefully by Colton.
I straighten my hair, put on smoky eye shadow, layer my mascara, and load on some red lipstick. Next, I step into my leather black boots that reach my knee. Taking a look in the mirror, I hope that I fit in. I grab my wristlet and head out to my car.
Fifteen minutes later I pull up to the bar. It’s 9:55pm. The bar is crowded, and it’s difficult to find a parking spot. I end up having to park about a block away. As I walk up to the bar, I notice it is older looking. In fact, I would never think that this place was actually still up and running. The building has rust on the outer walls and paint that’s chipping so very badly that I can make out at least 5 different colors that it has been painted in the past. It’s pretty ugly. Smoke is dispersing through the air—both from the smokers outside waiting to get in, as well as the smoke coming out from the cracked door leading inside.
