by Vi Keeland
“My two favorite ladies have arrived!” He chugs back the contents of his red Solo cup, tosses it over his shoulder and lunges at me and Allie. Taking each of us in an arm, he lifts us off the ground at the knees and carries us to the door as if we are feather light.
“Boys.” He calls the attention of the three large guys sitting at a table on the porch arguing over a game with cups and a ball. They turn and smile broadly. “Who’s got the bowl?” Keller gently sets us down.
A guy stands and extends a large glass fishbowl in our direction filled with keys. Allie shakes her head no.
“You in?” he asks me.
“Oh, I’m not driving,” I say, assuming he’s collecting the keys of drivers to ward off potential drinking and driving.
Key Collector smiles at me. He’s cute, in an oversized bear kind of way. He leans down, a wry grin on his face, and whispers in my ear. “It’s a key party. You put your keys in to decide who you’re hooking up with later.”
OH! “No thanks,” I feel the pink spread across my cheeks.
“That’s too bad. I’d love to pull your key.” He winks and walks away.
“Come on,” Allie yells over the music and grabs my hand, leading me away. I look back and find key party guy watching me and smiling.
Inside, the music is even louder. I feel the base thumping in the hollow of my chest and my heart speeds up to pump with the rhythm. There are people everywhere, some I recognize, others look a few years older. People sway to the music, a few couples are already splattered around the room in corners making out and groping each other.
There’s a card game going on in the kitchen and I think it might be strip poker since two boys are shirtless and one girl is looking worried and taking off her socks.
“What do you want to drink?” Allie yells over the music as we weave through the crowd toward the makeshift bar set up on the dining room table. I smile when I see the green bottle that reminds me of one of the few times I’d gotten drunk back in Texas with Ashley.
“Nothing for me. Thanks.”
“Are you sure?” I knew Allie was planning on drinking, we’d already talked about us walking home. It’s a nice night and I like to walk anyway.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
An hour into the party and I finally start to relax when there’s no sign of Zack. Drunks can be quite amusing to talk with when you’re sober. Allie and I settle in at a table in the yard where Keller is holding court, telling joke after joke. Sometimes he screws up the punch line, but those times he’s even funnier. One of the guys from the football team delivers a new, full cup and Keller knocks the entire thing back in one ridiculously large gulp.
Almost knocking the entire patio table over as he pushes himself away from the table, Keller stands and reaches his arms over his back, pulling his shirt off in one tug. Such a boy way to undress.
“Time for a swim,” he says with a mischievous smile on his face that makes me nervous. “What do you think, Nikki, you want to go for a swim?” He lifts me out my chair and into his arms, completely ignoring my protests.
“Oh my god, Keller. No!” I scream as he makes his way to the side of the large, rectangular in-ground pool.
He swings me back and forth as if he’s going to toss me in. “1, 2…3!” On three he swings me higher but doesn’t really let go. My heart pounds in my chest.
“Please, Keller. I can’t swim!” I lie, screeching my words.
“That’s okay, I’ve got you.” He grins and makes his way around to the low diving board. Standing at the edge, he jumps up and down with me still in his arms. After the second jump, he wobbles on the landing.
“Keller, please! You’re going to fall in.” I cling to his neck. With each bounce he loses his grip on me a little bit more.
Another bounce, followed by a barely salvaged landing, and I hear his voice.
“Put her down Keller,” Zack bellows, his tone clipped. I crane my neck behind Keller’s wide girth to see Zack standing at the edge of the pool.
Keller turns, looking to Zack and then me. He deliberates on his choices, then mumbles a few words before carrying me back to the patio. He sets me down next to Zack and walks away with a salute.
Zack looks at me for a long moment, “You okay?”
I nod.
He nods back, then walks away without looking back.
***
So maybe my solution to the discomfort I feel knowing Zack is around isn’t the smartest one. Reluctantly, I take the shot I’m offered and swallow it back. It burns going down and the effect is immediate. Although the instant effect may have more to do with the five beers I drank in the hour before the shots started flying.
The cute guy with the nice smile who was collecting keys on the porch refills my glass with a clear liquid. It looks innocent enough. Me, Allie and Key Collector clank our shots together in cheers. Half of mine spills all over the counter as I bumble just to keep the tiny glass in my unsteady hand.
“Come on,” he pleads with his playful smile. “You girls have to give me your keys. You’re the two hottest girls here.”
Allie finally gives in, tossing her keys in the bowl. I manage to ignore their pressuring me to join them, excusing my drunk self to find the ladies’ room. In my intoxicated state it takes me a good ten minutes to do what should take three.
Opening the bathroom door, I turn down the dark hallway and stop in my tracks when I see Zack. A girl I recognize from school is all over him. We lock eyes, but he makes no attempt to speak to me.
Stumbling back into the kitchen, I find Allie and Key Collector where I left them. The crushing sensation in my chest hurts so much that I can barely breathe. I reach into my pocket and pull out my house keys and dangle them in the air.
“Yes!” Key Collector yells victoriously, pumping his fist in the air for added effect.
A few minutes later, smiling widely, Key Collector announces it’s time to distribute the keys. Allie and I dance together and my body begins to feel the music. Really feel the music. Relaxed, inebriated, I sway to the rhythm, finally forgetting what I’d started drinking to forget. Mission accomplished.
My eyes falling closed, I almost miss Zack stalking over to me. Keller follows in his wake, looking harried.
“Wasn’t my idea, man,” Keller holds his hands up as if to plead his innocence.
“Let’s go,” Growling, Zack says to me.
“No,” I respond adamantly. I don’t have to listen to him. Keller’s standing behind Zack, his eyes go wide.
“You’re leaving. If I have to carry you out of here, I will.”
Swaying a bit as I try my damnedest to stand still, I fold my arms over my chest and call his bluff. Zack looks to Keller. “Walk Allie home later.”
“You got it,” Keller replies quickly, looking to Allie, who nods back.
I don’t even bother to protest when Zack scoops me off my feet and into his arms. Suddenly, I’m too tired to argue. Leaning my head against his chest, I breathe in deep and close my eyes at the soapy smell that makes me relax. I don’t even open my eyes to see Key Collector still holding his bloody nose when we pass him sitting on the front porch.
***
“What time does your Aunt come home in the morning?” Zack asks as he tucks me into my bed. I must have slept the entire time since leaving Keller’s living room.
“Eight,” I mumble.
He slips into bed next to me and hauls me close to him, wrapping his arms around my waist tightly.
“I missed you,” he whispers as he buries his head in my neck.
“I’m mad at you,” I whisper back.
“I know,” he answers.
“But I missed you too,” I admit, my voice fading as I fall asleep feeling more at peace than I have in two weeks.
***
I crack one eye open, the brightness in the room causing pain in my eye that can only be matched by the throbbing in my head. I groan. The events of last night come flooding back and I reach behind me
only to find a cold, empty bed. Was I dreaming he was lying in bed with me? I turn around to look, but the room is empty— he’s gone. There’s a folded up piece of paper on the nightstand, along with two pills and a bottle of water.
I unfold the note; the crinkling of the paper is deafening even though it’s barely audible. I’m sorry. Take the Tylenol. Drink the full bottle of water, you need to hydrate. Pick you up at 8pm.
Chapter 29
Zack
They say there are five stages of grief. I don’t even remember what a few of them are, but it felt like I was stuck in anger and depression for a very long time. People tried to explain it to me, help me through the process, but I wouldn’t take any of the hands that were offered. Guilt and shame barricaded me alone on one side, feeling disconnected from the rest of the world on the other.
I’m scared of waking up one day and not thinking about Emily. I blamed Nikki for consuming my thoughts…for taking up space that I thought should belong to Emily. But maybe there’s room for both of them.
It’s the first time I’ve come to visit Emily without being angry. I didn’t come to say goodbye or tell her I’ve moved on…because I’m pretty sure I’ll never fully be free. But instead I’m here to tell her I finally found a place for her. One I will cherish forever and keep with me willingly instead of fighting where she’s always belonged.
Placing the bunch of lilacs I brought at her grave, I take a few minutes to think back to all the good times we shared. The good memories, not the bad.
***
Wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans, I take a deep breath and walk to Nikki’s door. I have no idea what to expect. For two weeks I was a total asshole to her, pretending she didn’t exist. Then last night I storm off with her in my arms like some caveman. Hell, I’d be pissed at me.
Seeing her at the party, how vulnerable she was from too much alcohol, how much hurt was in her eyes when she saw me — I knew I needed to fix what I’d broken. I’d made the choice to walk away from someone I cared about once, and it’s something I’ll regret every day for the rest of my life.
My own feelings aren’t important. I can live with the sadness that has wrapped around my heart and squeezed so hard I can barely breathe. Hell, I’ve wanted the pain ever since I lost Emily. But I can’t hurt Nikki anymore. And I definitely can’t let her get hurt. I’m crazy about this girl. Maybe, just maybe, fate brought us together for a reason. To fix each other, not obliterate our already wounded hearts.
I just hope I can convince her to trust me yet again.
I ring the bell and wait. She answers but doesn’t immediately invite me in. Pulling out the big bouquet of flowers I’ve hidden behind my back, I offer them and a folded note as I do my best puppy-dog-eyed beg for forgiveness.
She tries to hide it, but there’s a smile tempting her lips. She rolls her eyes, shakes her head, then steps aside for me to enter.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
“Do you mean the hangover or the wounded heart?” she asks jokingly, but I see in her face she’s not entirely kidding. Busying herself with putting the flowers in water, she avoids eye contact. I take the vase she’s filling from her hands and dump the flowers in unceremoniously, just to get her attention.
Her back is to the kitchen counter and she doesn’t move when I step to her, invading her personal space. I cup her cheeks and wait till she looks up. “I meant the hangover, but I’d like to hear about the wounded heart too,” I say quietly.
“Well, the Tylenol and water took the edge off the hangover. My stomach is still queasy, but I think I’ll live.”
My thumb caresses her cheek. “And your heart?” I lean in. My own is beating like thunder in my chest, I’m pretty sure she must be able to feel it too.
“It’s…,” she struggles for a word. “Confused.”
“Your heart’s confused or your head?”
She thinks about it for a moment. “My head, I guess.”
“So your heart isn’t confused?” Lowering my head to meet with hers, I speak directly into her eyes.
She shakes her head.
“Good. I’m glad. Mine isn’t either.”
“But I don’t understand what happened.” Her eyes perk up with hope, then turn wary again. “One minute everything was great and the next minute you couldn’t stand the sight of me.”
I fucking hate that I made her feel that way. Seeing the pain in her face, hearing it in her voice, causes a physical ache inside my gut. Like I took a punch and it’s all I can do to not double over from the pain.
I swallow hard. I need to make her believe what she means to me. So I tell her the truth, even though sharing the memory will hurt both of us. “The first time I met Emily, I was nine years old and standing in the street in Batman briefs. It became her nickname for me. Emily bought me the batman mask you found in my room for my twelfth birthday.” I’m quiet for a long moment, trying to come up with the right words. I take her hand, lacing our fingers together and wait until she looks into my eyes before I begin. Then I tell her the truth, let the words flow from my heart, even though they scare me to confess them.
“I could never not stand the sight of you. Hell, Nikki, when you walk into a room, I see you in color when everything else is black and white. I’m just screwed up. I feel like it’s wrong for me to be happy. I don’t deserve it. So I try to make myself feel something different.”
Her face looks sad. “I feel like that sometimes, too. Like I shouldn’t be smiling so soon after my mom is gone. I feel guilty when I’m enjoying school. When I’m laughing with Aunt Claire. Sometimes even when I feel good around you.”
“How do you deal with it?”
She shrugs and forces a weak smile. “I focus on things that give me hope.” Behind her words, there’s so much pain. But she works at pushing past it. Something I need to start to do.
“I didn’t have hope until I met you.” I stare at her. She’s stunningly beautiful, and not just on the outside. Her full lips speak healing words. Her big blue eyes seek the sun, even on a cloudy day. She searches my face, trying to see if I’m being honest, I don’t blame her for being cautious.
“I’m afraid, Zack. You hurt me. You made me doubt myself. My own judgment.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know I hurt you. But please give me another chance. I can’t promise you I’ll never screw up again. But I can promise you that I’ll try. I’ll try every day.” I pause, gently lifting her chin to force her gaze back to mine. “I’m crazy about you. Every time I see you smile, knowing I put it there, it makes me happy. You make me happy. I don’t want to fight it anymore.”
The corners of her mouth tilt upward, she wants to accept what I’m telling her, but still looks conflicted. “Your head is telling you to throw my ass out the door, but your heart is telling you something different, isn’t it?”
A real smile lights up her face. “Yep.” It’s contagious; my own smile surfaces for the first time in weeks.
I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her close. “Which one’s louder?”
She furrows her brow.
“Your head or your heart. Which one is yelling at you louder?”
She looks down, then back up, our eyes locking. “My heart.”
“Go with your heart. Let me prove to your head that your heart made the right choice.”
She bites her lip. “You’ll talk to me when you’re struggling? Not shut me out?”
“I will,” I say without hesitation.
“You’ll never shut me out without explanation again?”
“I won’t.”
Her eyes search mine a final time. “Fine.” She breathes out.
“You’ll give me another chance?” I ask, filled with hope.
“Yes. But you’re on probation.”
“Got it. Probation.” I tighten my hold around her waist, bringing her flush against me.
“I’ll support you however I can, but you need to work on you.”
“I will.�
�
“You better,” she glares at me and warns.
“But…can I start working on me tomorrow?”
Her eyes squint and brows draw down.
“Tonight I’d rather work on you.” I kiss her lips. “I want to show you how sorry I am.”
***
We alternate between kissing and talking for hours, it’s difficult to keep things from going further. But tonight is about moving forward. Together. Slowly. So I force myself to regain control every time I start to slip. It’s not easy.
Hours later, Nikki’s stomach growls as we lie side by side on the couch, her lips swollen from makeup kisses. “Hungry?” I chuckle.
She smiles. “A little.”
“What did you eat today?”
“The Tylenol you left.”
I draw my head back to see her full face. “You didn’t eat anything at all?”
She shakes her head. “I was too queasy.”
I slide out from alongside Nikki and lift off the couch. “Well let’s fix that. What’s Aunt Claire got in the fridge?” I head to the kitchen.
“Mostly healthy stuff,” she says without much enthusiasm.
“Are you sure Allie and your Aunt Claire aren’t related?” I yell with my head buried in the refrigerator. “You’ve got the same fake food in here that she eats.”
“Aunt Claire doesn’t even drink real milk. Almond or Soy.” Nikki comes up behind me and scrunches her nose.
“What time is it?”
She checks her cell on the counter. “Eleven thirty.” Something on her phone captures her attention.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Yeah. Just a few dozen texts from Ashley and some missed calls.”
“Something happen?”
“I don’t think so.” She scrolls through her messages. “I told her you were coming over and she just wants to check on me.”
I frown thinking of the conversation the two of them must have had with how I acted the last few weeks. “Sorry. She must be worried about you. Call her. Better Burger is open till midnight. I’ll get us some burgers and give you some time to talk to her.” I kiss her forehead before grabbing my keys.
