Chapter 5
I stared at Micah and the blonde for several long, horrible seconds before Gigi, who was standing next to me, realized what I was gawking at.
"Ohh," I heard her say from beside me. I could tell by the way she said it that she knew I'd be disappointed at the sight.
"Let's go," I said, feeling humiliated. I peeled my eyes off the happy couple and turned to face Gigi.
She was looking at me like I was out of my mind. "Did you say let's go?"
"Yeah, let's get out of here."
Her brow furrowed as she smirked at me. "We haven't even seen The Miffs… the band who we just paid 15 dollars to see."
"Not me," I said. I glanced around to make sure no one in the crowd was listening to me, and then I pointed in the direction of Micah and the blonde.
"I'm not gonna stay and watch that all night."
She let out a little laugh. "Then don't look at them," she said, as if that was obvious.
"You can't seriously think we're gonna stay," I said.
"You can't seriously think we're gonna leave," she replied. "We paid to see The Miffs."
"Gigi, please," I pleaded.
She stared at me trying to figure out how in the world I was so affected by a guy I had only met earlier that day. "Carly, I wish you could step outside yourself and see that this really isn't a big deal. It's not like he's going to come over here and laugh at you for coming. If you end up talking to him tonight we'll just act like we're here to see The Miffs, which we are!"
"I'm definitely not going to talk to him tonight," I said, disappointment evident in my tone.
She cocked her head and stared into my eyes, searching for truth. "Did he lead you to believe he wanted to be with you tonight?"
I could tell she was being protective of me. I shook my head. "No," I insisted sadly. "I guess I was just hoping…" I trailed off, shaking my head. "It's stupid." I let out a defeated sigh and she put her hand on my arm.
"What's stupid is if you let this little hiccup ruin our night." She patted me on the arm and smiled, trying to get me to smile too. "Seriously, Carly, there are so many hot guys here tonight—just look around! Don't get all bummed out just because one of them's taken."
I wanted to tell her he was the only one I was interested in, and it was pointless for me to try to look at anyone else, but instead I faked a little smile. She was extremely excited to see The Miffs, and what sort of friend would I be if I didn't let her do that after she'd helped me find a way in.
"Atta girl," she said, capitalizing on my forced smile.
I lost Micah in the crowd, thank goodness. Gigi and I saw a few guys we recognized, and went over to talk to them before The Miffs took the stage. They had all graduated from our high school in the spring and were the artsy, theater types. Gigi and I didn't know them very well, but when you saw someone you even slightly recognized in a place like that, you tend to talk to them.
There were five of them in the group, and they had one of the highly sought after tables. It was a high-top table with three barstools. Everyone who didn't have a place to sit just sort of gathered around standing. They'd all seen The Miffs several other times, and we listened as they talked about their previous concert experiences. One of them knew one of the guys in the band, and he bragged about partying with them after one of their shows.
I really didn't care about all of their stories. I really didn't care about The Miffs at all. It was silly, but I honestly thought this night would end with me in Micah's arms—or with me talking to him and exchanging phone numbers. Either way, I did not expect the blonde, and that was a bitter pill to swallow.
"Heyyy, you made it," I heard from over my shoulder. My gut clinched instantly but I didn't turn around. Then I felt a tap on my shoulder. "You're Carly right?" I knew it was Micah. I turned to face him with as much confidence as I could muster.
"Oh, hey!" I said seeming surprised.
Yep, just as I thought, he was standing there with the gorgeous blonde at his side—both of them smiling. I didn't know which one of them to look at. My gaze shifted nervously between the two. Smile Carly, smile. She was a size two beauty pageant type with big, perfectly styled hair that cascaded over her tiny shoulders. She had on a lot of exquisitely applied make up. She was a head-turner. Just keep smiling.
They stood next to each other, and Micah had his arm casually draped around her waist. "Carly, this is my girlfriend Sophia." He looked down at Sophia the Perfect with a smile. "Carly came to help out at the Happy House today."
"Aw, I'm so sorry I missed that," she said. "I had some things to take care of in Austin today with my sorority."
Of course she did.
She glanced up at Micah. "Is this the one Thomas was talking about?"
Micah laughed and nodded. "My brother loves you," he said smiling at me. "He was talking about you all through dinner,"
"You must have made quite the impression," Sophia chimed in.
I smiled as sincerely as I could, but all I could think was that I had made the impression on the wrong brother. "I really liked Thomas," I said. "I had fun getting to know him today."
"Isn't he adorable?" Sophia said with a huge smile. Micah gave her a little squeeze, and she glanced up at him. They exchanged a brief smile and then, to my horror, a kiss.
I seriously wanted to run for the door. I couldn't look at her anymore after that. I decided to focus my attention on Micah for the remainder of the conversation, which I hoped would be short. The guy knew how to dress. That was one of the things that made him stand out. In a sea of guys who didn't know how to pick clothes that were stylish and fit them well, Micah looked like a fashion model who'd been dressed by a stylist. I followed the lines of his perfectly fitted jeans, trying not to make it obvious that I was completely infatuated.
"We liked your band," Gigi said from beside me. I forgot she was even there, but I was grateful for the distraction.
Micah smiled and extended a hand to shake hers. "Thanks," he said. "Are you one of Carly's friends?"
"Yep, I'm Gigi," she said, shaking his hand. "I was planning on dragging Carly out to see The Miffs tonight, but it was cool that she ran into you today. It worked out that we could come a little early and support Thomas' brother."
"Good, I'm glad you guys made it out," he said. He glanced at the guys sitting at the table, and Gigi proceeded to introduce all of them as if we were good friends and had been there with them the whole time. I was so thankful for her intervention during the whole exchange that I wanted to just reach right out and hug her. She basically took over and made it seem like Micah was not the main objective of me being there, which was entirely untrue.
Micah and his girlfriend were only at our table for a few minutes, but it seemed like a lifetime since all I could do was think about how I'd never have him. The Miffs took the stage not long after they left, and I focused my attention on other things.
Zeke Ramirez happened to be that other thing.
He was one of the guys sitting at our table. I hadn't even noticed him in that way before Micah and his girlfriend came over, but I was so agitated afterwards that Zeke just kept getting cuter and cuter as the night went on. He had dark hair and eyes and wore dark clothes that fit his whole look. He had that dangerous vibe going on, and with the way I was feeling reckless, he was just what the doctor ordered. We didn't hang with the same crowd in high school, so I'd never really gotten to know him. I figured there was no time like the present to give it a shot, even if it didn't amount to anything in the long run.
Gigi was busy listening to the band and talking to Chase, one of the other guys at the table, so I stood next to Zeke. We talked about going to school at Warren and some of our favorite and least favorite teachers there. He had a fairly solemn demeanor, but several times during our conversation, he cracked a smile. It made his face handsome, and it made me feel good—like I'd earned it since he didn't offer them freely.
"What are your plans for the fall?" I asked.
"That's cool," I said.
He shrugged. "It's not Juilliard."
"Well, it's a start—like you said."
He gave me an almost imperceptible smile. "What about you?"
"I still have another year at Warren," I said.
"And after that?"
I smiled shyly. "It's pretty dorky compared to theatre."
"Accounting?" he asked with another hint of a smile.
"Close. Just as dorky."
"Science?"
A smile spread across my face. "Yeah. I'm not a genius or anything, but it's the only subject I really like."
"So you're gonna be a scientist?"
"No. I don't know." I shrugged. "I don't really have a plan yet. All I know is that it's my favorite subject. I might end up being a teacher or something. I'm hoping they'll help me figure that out once I go to college."
He reached up to the side of my face and tucked a strand of loose hair behind my ear. "None of us have it all figured out," he said.
It felt good to have him pay attention to me. Maybe the spark wasn't as significant as it had been with Micah, but Zeke was nice, he seemed to like me, and best of all, he didn't come with a blonde.
"See? I told you we should stay," Gigi said on our way home. "Aren't you glad we didn't leave?"
"You might have been right," I admitted. I was in the middle of texting my mom to let her know the show was over and we were on our way home.
"Who are you texting, Zeke?" she asked.
"No. I'm texting my mom."
"I saw you two exchange numbers," she said, taking her eyes off the road to glance at me.
"He's nice. We'll probably try to hang out sometime." I poked her arm. "I saw you talking to Chase."
She giggled. "He's cute isn't he? It's cool that they're friends. We can all go out together."
I smiled and agreed with her, but I couldn’t quite get the sting of disappointment to go away.
"You'll get over that singer," she said, sensing my withdrawal. "Give yourself two dates with Zeke, and you'll forget that other guy ever existed."
She had to be right. There were plenty of famous musicians and actors in the world whom I would love to go out with, and I didn't care whether or not they had girlfriends. I wasn't the type of girl to spend my life pining away on someone I'd never have. I knew it was just a waste of time. All I had to do was put Micah Bennett in the same category as those other guys—the untouchables. The sooner I came to terms with that, the better.
Chapter 6
Five years later.
"Zeke?" I called, opening his front door.
He hadn't returned my texts all afternoon. I knew he was home. I'd seen his car in the driveway.
"Zeke?" I said a little louder.
His tiny house was dark and cluttered. There was trash and piles of clothes strewn out all over the place, and to top it all off, it smelled terrible. What was that stench? I covered my nose and mouth with a hand as I tiptoed through his disaster of a living room.
"Zeke?" I repeated.
I had a gut-wrenching feeling something was wrong. Dread and fear began to flood my body. I had a distinct feeling that he was home, and yet he wouldn't answer me.
"Zeke!" I yelled in a frustrated tone. "Where are you?" I peeked into the tiny kitchen. "Stop messing around, you're scaring me!"
It was an itty-bitty, two bedroom house. I'd been there tons of times, but somehow it seemed unfamiliar. I peered into the extra bedroom, which Zeke used for his art stuff. He was a singer, a poet, a painter, and an actor—and this room housed many of the supplies he used. I usually loved Zeke's art, but even this room seemed dismal and eerie as I looked inside.
"Zeke!" I called, feeling jumpy and on edge.
From my vantage point in the small hallway, I could see into his tiny, dated bathroom and partially into his bedroom. Something told me I'd find him in his bedroom. He was probably sleeping. He'd been drinking lately, and was likely passed out.
"Zeke, your house is a mess!" I called. I tested my luck with uncovering my nose but realized it still stank and quickly covered it again.
I stepped into his bedroom feeling certain I would find him in there. My heart sank as I stared at his empty double bed. There were windows on the far side of the room but heavy curtains covered them, making it really dark. I decided to open the windows and let a little bit of light and fresh air into the place. It was disgusting, and I felt a strong urge to clean. I vaguely wondered why I was even dating a guy who lived in such a messy place. I walked around the foot of the bed to the other side of the room and pushed open the heavy fabric covering the window. Sunlight spilled in, making me squint and glance downward.
And there he was—what was left of him anyway. I instantly covered my mouth again and gaged as I tried to focus on the figure that lie on the floor on the far side of his bed. Panic flooded my body. I wanted to run, scream, do something… but fear had an iron grip on me, and I was completely paralyzed. I just stood there and stared down at his lifeless body for several long seconds. I should have looked away, but I couldn't. I stayed completely motionless, like a stone statue.
There was no question he was dead. The top half of his head was completely blown away. All I could see was mangled flesh and blood.
The fear.
The dread.
The crippling grip it had on me was too much to handle. It was the most disturbing image I'd ever seen. I tried to scream, but it came out more like a moan.
I couldn't move. All I could do was look at what used to be my boyfriend. I tried to scream again, and again it was a moan. I could see myself moving and screaming. I could see my body doing it, but I knew I was paralyzed—unable to move or even make a noise.
And then I did it.
I made one final gut-wrenching push, and it was over.
I was out of there.
My eyes opened, and I awoke from the dream, staring at the ceiling of my own bedroom. My heart was pounding, and I was struggling to catch my breath.
A cold sweat had come to the surface of my entire body. I stayed there, completely motionless for several long seconds before I picked my head up to glance around.
It had only been a nightmare. I was in my own bed in my own room. My shaggy, brown dog was lying flat on his back next to me and I reached out and put my hand on his warm belly just to try to get some sense of comfort and peace.
He stirred a little at my touch, but didn't wake up. I reached onto my nightstand with the other hand and picked up my phone to check the time.
"Two A.M.," I whispered before letting my head hit the pillow again.
My body was so wound up from the nightmare that it took a good fifteen or twenty minutes for my heart rate to slow down afterward. I was so relieved to have Roscoe lying next to me in the bed. Waking up with a nightmare was never easy, but having him next to me helped the aftermath. It took me three hours to fall back asleep.
The next day was Sunday, so thankfully I didn't have to work. I had plans to have coffee at 10am with a friend of mine named Trish, and I showed up looking as tired and frustrated as I felt. I saw her through the window as I approached, and she told me with hand gestures that I should just come to the couch where she was sitting because she already had my coffee.
"What's the matter?" was the first thing out of her mouth when I got close enough to hear her.
I sat on the couch with a huff, not even bothering to take the bag off of my shoulder. "What'd you get me?" I asked, sitting up to grab the paper cup off the coffee table.
"A vanilla latte. What's up with you?"
"The dream."
"Again?"
I took a small sip of coffee, set it down, and rubbed my face with my hands. "Thanks for that. It's good." I sighed. "Yeah, same dream." I sat back again, still feeling disturbed and restless. "It's been two months since the last one, though."
She smiled. "That's a good thing."
I managed a half smile. "I guess."
She studied me as if I was a puzzle she could put back together. "Was it exactly like…" she started to ask.
"Yes. It was exactly like it happened in real life," I said. "Only in the dream, his house was different—it was gross and dark. I was scared even before I saw him."
I started dating Zeke when I was seventeen years old and he was eighteen. We dated for a year before he committed suicide. He worked at a music store in the mall during the year we were dating and had plans to start college with me. He said we'd be freshmen together.
His depression came on quickly. He always wrote a lot of poetry, but during the summer when we celebrated our one-year anniversary, his poems took a melancholy turn. He began acting like he changed his mind about going to college saying he would never amount to anything anyway. I knew he was sad, but I had absolutely no idea he was capable of doing what he did. He took his own life in the bedroom of his parents' house, and since they were at work, I'd been the one to find him.
No one should ever, I repeat EVER have to see anything like that. It had been four years since I found him, and I still resented him for making me look at that. Imagine if it had been his mom.
Trish put her hand on my leg and let out a long sigh. She had no idea what to say, and I couldn't blame her for that. "Do you think you should try those pills?"
"I'm not going to get on pills for the rest of my life. The nightmares are getting farther and farther apart, and I'm able to live a pretty normal life in spite of them. I'm not gonna subject myself to a lifetime of prescriptions to help me get over it." I shrugged. "People see things in life that suck. I should be able to get over it by myself."
"Have you seen a therapist?"
I glanced at her. "Who do you think gave me the pills?"
"Did it help you to talk about it?"
"It helped a little, I guess. No amount of talking can remove the memory, though."
Finally My Forever Page 4
