“It’s believable. It’s obvious Adam still has a thing for you, so tell Kip you have feelings for him, too. Tell him you were using him to make Adam jealous and it worked.”
I swallow hard, the sickening feeling returning to my stomach. After the garden, I felt amazing – Kip and I danced all night, snuck drinks from his flask and bought drinks when it was tapped out, fed each other chocolate dipped strawberries and practiced poker faces with my glasses. We were goofing off all night, people-watching and being us. And I liked us. I wanted there to be an us for just a little while longer.
But time is up. Ding! Dinner is served in the way of my heart on a silver platter.
Erin eyes me hard, not budging.
“Um, I need some fresh air. Good luck, Big. I love you.” Cassie bolts out of the bathroom before I have the chance to stop her.
What the fuck? Way to leave me hanging, Little!
“Who died?” Jess asks, drying her hands on a paper towel as she rejoins us, her eyes scanning our faces. Ashlei gives me a sad smile, shrugging her shoulders a little before answering.
“It’s time.”
My throat feels like sandpaper, each breath rubbing it raw as I try to swallow it down. Jess sobers slightly, her eyes finding mine. For a few moments, we just stand there, everyone’s eyes on me as I grip my purse tight, my knuckles whitening. Finally, Jess reaches out for my hand.
“Well, I guess there’s no better time for shots than now.”
She pulls me from the bathroom, Ashlei and Erin close behind. We head toward the bar and I scan the crowd until I find Kip. It’s like he was watching me the entire time, as if his eyes are trained to spot me like the missing puzzle piece he needs to complete his picture. He smiles, his teeth blazing against his tan skin as he watches me. My heart races, thumping against my ribs like an erratic bird in a cage. It hits hard against my bones, desperate to break free from me, the captor. I try to calm it down, to soothe it with words in my head, but the only words I have to offer are the ones I’ve recited. The ones I’m about to say to Kip.
My heart wants a divorce, and I don’t blame it.
I wish I could separate from me, too.
I am high. Not from marijuana, but from a different kind of drug – one that only Skyler Thorne can provide. After last night, I wasn’t sure what tonight would be like. I was apprehensive, afraid of the fake smiles and high walls. But after the garden, Skyler opened up to me again. That same amazing smile came out, that playfulness that is only her. We’ve danced and kissed and everything feels perfect. And for once, I don’t give a damn about poker. Tonight is just about us, about escaping from reality for a while and living in the world where we get to be together like any other normal college students.
Drunk on a flask full of whiskey and each other.
I’ve felt her moving in the sexy red dress she’s wearing all night and now all I can think about is getting her out of here. I want to make her feel wanted, desired, needed. I can still hear the sweet sounds that escaped between her lips when my hands were on her body and all I want is to amplify them. I want to make her feel like nothing she’s ever felt before.
Fuck. They need to install cold showers at these damn venues.
“Might want to take it easy there, Poker Princess. I don’t want to have to carry you back to the house.” I laugh, stealing a kiss and the shot glass from Skyler’s hand before she has the chance to down it. We’ve already killed my flask and a few drinks and I just watched her take two shots in a row with Jess. Skyler actually introduced me to her sisters tonight, the ones she’s always with. I knew her Little, but tonight I met Jess and Ashlei who are absolutely crazy as fuck – in a good way. They’re fun, but definitely trouble dressed in high heels. Erin has been a little too close for comfort all night, too, and right now I feel her eyes glaring a hole in my side as I hold up the shot to toast the girls.
Only I would get wrapped up into my crazy ex-girlfriend’s Little.
Skyler doesn’t fight me when I take the shot. She doesn’t spout off some feisty line or smile or punch me in the side. Instead, her immense blue eyes grow even larger as she watches me drink it and I notice a slight tremble in her lip. I finish the shot and grab her hand, tugging her away from the bar.
“Are you okay?”
She doesn’t say anything. For a moment, she stands there staring at where her hand is grasped in mine, almost like she’s studying the way our fingers lace together. Finally, she simply shakes her head no.
And I don’t know why, but for some reason my stomach sinks to the ground.
Something is wrong.
“Come on,” I say, tugging her toward the doors that lead out to the garden, but she stands firm, her eyes trained on the floor. I glance back at her, waiting. When she finally lifts her head, her face is pale, her hand shaking in mine. I want desperately to pull her into me, but the way she’s looking at me – like I’m a wounded animal and she’s the one who shot me – stops me from moving. I feel paralyzed by her gaze, immobilized by the words I haven’t even heard yet.
“Skyler?”
She sucks in a long breath before hardening her lips into a thin line. “It’s over, Kip.”
“What?” I ask, moving to grab her other hand. She pulls away, ripping the one I was still holding from my grip and crossing her arms. Her eyes shift to the side and I see her tongue working against the inside of her cheek. She’s trying to calm down, trying not to show emotion. I recognize the move from the cab ride to the tournament I watched her play in.
She’s putting on her poker face.
“Skyler, don’t do this. Come on.” I reach for her, but she steps even farther back, the distance growing colder between us. I leave my hands outstretched, waiting for her to stop whatever show she’s putting on and fall into my arms, but she stands unwavering. A hardness starts to spread over her features and I try to swallow, but my throat just constricts, tightening around the growing lump I feel suffocating me.
“It’s done, Kip. I don’t need you anymore. I just wanted to get back at Adam. I wanted to make him jealous. And it worked. And now I don’t need you.”
The words fly from her mouth in surprisingly convincing tones, but she still won’t look at me.
“Is this a joke?” I ask, almost laughing. This is not happening. There’s no way she can possibly be serious right now. It’s all an act. This is her poker face, this is her pretending.
Right?
“No, it’s not a fucking joke, Kip,” she says louder, this time her eyes finding mine. They’re cold, detached – complete fucking stone. Skyler rarely ever curses, and when she does it’s a “hell” or a “shit” or the occasional “damn”. Hearing “fuck” lash out from her beautiful mouth takes me by surprise, like admiring a beautiful spider web before witnessing it catching an unsuspecting prey.
The people around us start to notice the commotion and I feel the heat from their stares. I try again to swallow, but nothing comes. No relief.
“I don’t feel anything for you. I never have, okay? I’ve been in love with Adam since last year and that hasn’t changed. Now that I have his attention again, I don’t need you. It was fun, but it’s over. Here.” She pulls the black box with the glasses I bought her from her purse. “Take these back. I don’t want them.” With those last words, her lip quivers a bit and her eyes flick to mine before she turns and storms away, disappearing through the double doors.
Holding the box in my hand, I look around at the faces. Kade. Jess. Ashlei. Skyler’s Little seems sick, Erin looks at me like a sad puppy, and Adam stands right beside her. But his eyes aren’t on me.
They’re on the doors Skyler just walked through.
I clench my fists together, letting out a cross between a grunt and a scream before barreling toward the doors. Shoving through them, I quickly find Skyler standing near the carpool area and grab her arm, whipping her around with enough force to show her I mean business without hurting her.
“Bullshit,” I say, my
breath escaping my lips in an erratic rhythm. I will my heart to calm down, to not pound so hard against my ribs but it won’t listen. “This is fucking bullshit and you know it. You may have every other person in there fooled, but I can see straight through you, Skyler Thorne. Why are you doing this? Is it Erin?”
I watch as tears quickly pool in her eyes before a single tear spills over. She wipes at it quickly. “Kip, please, just leave it alone. Just let me go.”
“No!” I yell, louder than I expected. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing right now. This wasn’t part of the plan, none of this was – but I can’t stop myself. I refuse to let her go. Not right now, not like this. “Fuck that, Skyler. You care about me, I know you do. This isn’t about Adam or Erin or anyone else. This is about us. You and me. Stop letting her control you. For once, ask yourself what you want and fuck what everyone else thinks.”
She squeezes her eyes shut tight and more tears escape. My heart aches, a sickening feeling lurching from deep in my gut. I reach out and run the pad of my thumb down her cheek, erasing a stream. She leans into my hand, her lips parting slightly, before shoving me away. We both stand there silently, my hands open at my sides and her eyes still shut off from the world. When she opens them, my stomach sinks further.
Ice.
“There is no you and me. There never was.”
The words slam hard against my chest and my lungs ache for air that won’t come. Reality is the lump in my throat, the jagged pill that I can’t swallow. She doesn’t want me, there is no me and her.
There is no us.
Suddenly, I feel hands come down hard on my shoulders. “Hey, man, I think you need to go back inside,” Adam says, pulling me toward the doors. I shrug him off forcefully and turn to meet his eyes.
“Don’t fucking touch me.”
He puffs up his chest, meeting mine as our eyes level out. “You don’t want to do this, Kip. Don’t lose your head right now.”
“Fuck you.” I shove him hard and he stumbles back as Skyler lets out a cry.
“Stop! Kip please, stop!”
Adam quickly recovers and shoves me back before Kade and a few of the older brothers step between us, pushing us apart. They hold tight to my arms while Adam holds up his hands, letting them know he’s cool. He turns to Skyler and holds out his arm. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
I try to rush toward him again but my brothers hold me still, my force met with stiff resistance. Skyler’s eyes meet mine one last time and I try to reach her, try to use my own eyes to tell her not to do this, to beg her not to do this. Softly, she just barely whispers a “sorry” before turning away. Her eyes flutter closed and she brings her hand to cover her trembling lips as Adam shelters her under his arm and leads her to a waiting cab.
When they disappear inside, my brothers release me and Kade gently places his hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, man. Chicks are fucking crazy. You can’t trust them.”
I shrug him off and before I can stop myself, I bolt. I run down the carpool lane, out past the gate, down the road and over the bridge that leads to the beach. My legs burn, my lungs ache for air, my eyes strain against the tears I won’t let fall. Each step takes me farther and farther from the dream, from Skyler and everything I thought could be. The pain radiating in my muscles, the ragged breaths racking my body remind me of the cold hard truth. Slowly, I feel the mirage lift and it’s there that I find my resolve, my unyielding reminder of why I’m here and what I need to do.
It’s over. We’re over. I didn’t want it to happen this way, but in reality, it had to. It’s better this way. My focus centers and I feel a small smile tug at the corner of my lip as I reach the beach, collapsing to my knees in the sand. A laugh starts low in my stomach and rumbles up through my throat, bouncing off the waves in a sinister echo. I throw my hands up into the air and let it consume me. My sides hurt even more, the pain of running mixed with this laugh that seems to be setting me free.
Finally, I fall silent, my breaths calming with the ocean. In and out. In and out. Skyler has never been just a mission for me. She’s always been more. From the moment I met her, there was a constant pull – a spell that bound me to her, regardless of my father and his plan. But now, that gravity has been obliterated. I’m free-floating – a little scarred, but still holding on to the pieces. And now, I feel my resolve making its way back to the surface. I’ve never felt more determined to do what I came here to do. This was my wake up call, my reality check, my dream reminding me what’s important and what’s not.
She’s got her hand, and I’ve got mine. She played me like a blank, a card with no value to her. She didn’t need me, but she acted like she did – raising the pot, setting the stakes high – she fooled the entire table. Even I fell for the trick, thinking I was part of her hand, thinking I was the Ace on the river.
Well, I refuse to be anyone’s blank.
I’ve got a few Aces up my sleeve, too, and they’re ready to play.
Game on, Skyler Thorne.
One day.
I promised myself one day to get my shit together. One day to erase the feelings I had for Skyler. One day to review her file and get my head back on track. One day to work off my aggression and find my focus. One day.
And time is up.
It’s Sunday and one of those weird days in Florida. The rest of the country is either buried in snow or just barely hanging out above fifty degrees. Meanwhile, South Florida is sunny and seventy-six. Not that I would know, really. My phone says it’s a beautiful day, but I’ve yet to move from the couch. I thought I would spend yesterday getting my swag back, but instead I spent most of the day watching old sitcoms and writing scripts that will never make it anywhere – mostly because they all involve some strikingly beautiful girl who ends up being an evil bitch. The end.
Not exactly the best television content.
And I’m not ashamed to admit I’ve been cuddling with Sparky, although I probably should be.
Fucking pansy.
How was I supposed to know the kind of drug I was getting into? It seemed so innocent, something that would give me a little high but that I could drop easily. Fuck was I wrong about that last part. The high was incredible, but after Friday I was speeding fast toward the ground, bracing myself for the impact that won’t fully come. The withdrawals are too much, my body is shaken. My mind is fucked.
Skyler Thorne is one hell of a drug.
At least now I’m holding her file in my hand, browsing through her tournament history and articles about her background. I run my thumb across a photo of Skyler with her parents, the article detailing how instrumental they’ve been to her success. I think of the way they taught her to play and imagine how I could have met them one day, maybe played a game after Thanksgiving dinner or something.
God, how fucking stupid can I be?
Even if this wouldn’t have happened, if Friday hadn’t happened, it all still would have ended. Crash and burn. The moment she found out I was entering the tournament, it would have been over.
Yet still, I can’t find it in me to let it go just yet.
I fish my phone from my sweatpants pocket and dial Dad, pushing the speaker button as I lay it on my chest and continue sifting through the file.
“Hello?” Dad answers groggily.
I check the time on the oven clock. It’s just past ten there, no way he’s still sleeping.
“Dad? Did I wake you?” He’s always up before the sun. In fact, by the time I woke up for school in high school he had already been up, completed his run for the day, and showered.
Dad coughs a little and I hear him adjusting, the phone making strange muffled noises as he shifts. “I was just resting a bit, things have been busy around here. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine. I was hoping we could talk about Skyler. I need some help.”
“Help? With what?” He clears his throat, interested now that he knows the topic of the call. I can’t help but wonder if he would have given
a different reaction had I said I wanted to read him the script I wrote for class.
“We got into a fight. Don’t worry,” I immediately assure him as he frustratingly sighs on the other end. “I’ve got it under control. I think it will be better this way, actually. We’re going to go back to just being friends, which I think will be better. No more photos in magazines or anything.”
“So she’s still talking to you?”
I shift uncomfortably. “Not yet, but she will. Just trust me, I’ve got it under control. I’m going to get her to some more tournaments, try to help her focus on May. But I need your help. Last time I watched her play, I was distracted. I couldn’t really focus on what I needed to be looking for. What should I keep my eyes open for?”
“Well.” He coughs a little and I notice a strange wheezing through the phone. My small hometown is part of the country dealing with snow right now, so it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s getting sick. Although, he always stays on top of his vitamins and shit. “First thing, you need to figure out what rattles her. Try a few different things before you take her out for practice. Nothing she will know you’re intentionally doing, but maybe talking about her past, or pushing her buttons. And once you get her at the table, you need to see if she has any tells. Talk to her about her cards afterward, find out when she was bluffing and when she wasn’t and see if there was a giveaway that maybe she didn’t notice. It might be something she does unconsciously, licking her lip or something.”
Well fuck, if she’s licking her lips I have a feeling my focus isn’t going to be thinking about what her cards are.
No, fuck her. She wants Adam and I was just a fucking pawn to help her get him back. The fact that I ever even trusted her is completely moronic.
But she seemed like the one who was trying to resist. Was that part of the plan? Shit, did I only want her so bad because she was holding back? I mean, the second she gave in, I went away for a week and then came back to a closed off version of the girl I had left behind. And then Friday happened.
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