“Turning it on me now? Classic move. I’m going to shower. Get your stuff and go.”
The fuck I’m just going to go. He wants me gone he can forcibly remove my ass. Until then, I flip onto my knees straddling his legs to trap him in place and shake him. “I. Did. Not. Cheat. You are making huge assumptions and an even bigger mistake.”
The son of a bitch rears his arms back and shoves at my chest. He shoves me. Enough where I’m thrown off balance and fall, hitting my head against the headboard as I tumble to the floor.
I don’t think so.
Using the bed to help me stand, I swipe my hand along the cut bleeding by the corner of my eye. And I taste the blood in my mouth from a cut lip. “Fuck this and fuck you, Collin Pratt. I laid my heart out for you and this is what I get? I hope you’re happy.”
He hurt me. I can’t believe he hurt me.
I rub at my chest, not because of any physical pain his shove caused, but more to soothe the sting of his touch that had been so intimate earlier.
Only giving myself one last glance over my shoulder at the man I love, I scoop my clothing up, quickly dressing without stopping, stumbling slightly trying to put on my jeans. Neither of us say anything more and he doesn’t try to stop me.
He can kiss my ass.
I’m gone.
Chapter 19
Collin
He left.
What the hell did I do?
He left.
Isn’t that what I wanted? Wasn’t that the desired result? And I shoved him. Not hard, but I still did it. He fell. He was bleeding. After he poured his heart out to me, I really am the lowest form of scum.
Kip’s scent lingers on my pillows, the sheets and the comforter. It surrounds me as a punishment, leaving me tossing and turning on the bed we shared. Sleep never comes. Rather, I find myself deep in my own head, thinking of a day I’ve tried for years to forget.
“I love you, you know that Collin?” Andrew says, suddenly sounding serious.
“I know. I love you too.”
He leans away from me, pulling open the top drawer of the bedside table, taking something out, pushing the drawer closed and leaning back to me.
“Move to Lafayette after graduation.” It’s not a question, he’s not asking.
“What?”
“Yeah, you come down after graduation. We get an apartment, establish residency then you don’t have to live in the dorms. We can be together all the time…
Why’d he have to fall in love? Kip, hell, either of them? I’m scum, but love… love is where it starts to go bad. And I know just how bad bad can get.
Shit. “Andrew, what do I do, man? Gimme something to work with here because I’m dying.” I demand into the air. Because it really feels like my heart is breaking all over again.
Then the urge hits me. After springing up from the bed, I run to the closet to dig out his picture from the bottom of the plastic bin.
Andrew doesn’t answer me. He never will again. What I do hear is Elle next door in Ben’s bed, screaming his name and thanking god. She’s thanking god as I slide down the wall naked, clutching Andrew’s picture to my chest cursing His name.
I stay there forever with the sounds of Elle’s pleasure and Ben’s love echoing in my ears. How is life so unfair? How can Ben be getting lucky next door when his beautiful brother is lying under a foot of snow in the cold earth?
We always had today. Together. Me and Ben and a bottle of Cuervo. The anti-Valentine. Now he’s in there being happy?
You could’ve been happy.
No. No. I would’ve hurt him.
Kip.
Somehow I would have found a way to destroy that angelic man. He’s the kind of man you marry and adopt babies with. He’s the buy a house in the suburbs, family barbeques, sponging his forehead with a damp washcloth when he’s sick, sitting up worrying with when the oldest kid breaks curfew kind of man. I ruined Andrew. I’d inevitably ruin Kip.
Ugh. I can’t take the noise anymore. She’s so damn loud.
Great, Elle. You’re enjoying yourself.
Finally gaining the strength to push up off the floor, I walk around to the bedside table and gently place Andrew’s photo back where it used to sit before Kip, so I can get dressed.
One pair of sweatpants later, I sit down at the kitchen table. At least it’s quieter out here. Until my best friend appears in the kitchen wearing the biggest smile I think I’ve ever seen etched across his face. There’s a twinkle in his eyes that hasn’t been there before either.
I watch the man glide from the counter to the refrigerator and back again with the carton of eggs and milk. Ben’s a great cook. When he pulls the French bread from the cupboard, I know he’s about to make her his special French toast. I lose myself to the kitchen sounds hoping to forget my earlier pain, but all too soon, he has finished and returned to his lady fair.
A blessing and a curse, without the kitchen noises to distract me, my eyes rim with the tears which just start falling. At least no one is around to see my humiliation. Or so I think.
My head pressed against the table, hands gripping my hair, I don’t hear anyone walk up until it’s too late to recover myself.
“Collin? Are you okay?”
In my embarrassment at her seeing me mid-breakdown, I lash out. She doesn’t deserve any of it, but that little fact sure as hell doesn’t stop me. My anger and disappointment in myself have to go somewhere. Coupled with the way she and Ben stand together so obviously happy—the love lean—has me too antsy to hold back.
“Isn’t it sweet, little Elly Dinninger finally got laid.”
Yeah, dick move using her old name. The one reminding her of that horrible woman, Cricket. Her mother. The woman hates her, spent Elle’s whole life hating her for having the gall to be conceived. “Elly” represents the worst kind of sorority girl. Catty, size sixes whose names end in “y” or “ie” or “ee”. Complete opposite of Elle. The only kind of daughter Cricket could love. What a bitch, and I’m no better.
“Could you have been any louder? Other people live here.”
“Did something happen? Where’s Kip?”
Nope. I don’t stop. I can’t stop. Hurting her feels better than feeling the hurt for myself. “At his house. Because he doesn’t live here. Maybe it’s time you head back home. Booty calls don’t stay over.”
Way wrong thing to say around Ben. He jumps all over my ass. “Do not do this.” He squeezes my shoulder, letting me know he means business. “You want to hurt someone, hurt me. But you won’t talk to her like that. Don’t make me choose between the two of you, not today.”
“Man, she’s got you whipped.”
There’s a laugh to his voice. “When has that ever been bad?”
When? Always. Whipped makes a man vulnerable. Too easy to get your heart broken, just like I’d done to Kip tonight. I had that man asshole whipped, and I knew it. We were good. We were on a good path. Why did he have to ruin it by falling in love with me?
Why did you have to fall in love with him?
I’m not in love. Not with Kip. I can’t be. I won’t be. He deserves better.
“Ben, let me just grab my jacket. I can walk home, it’s not that far. You take care of your friend. I’m sorry, Col. For whatever this is, I’m so, so sorry,” Elle says. There’s no way I can look at her now. She doesn’t deserve my mess.
But unlike me, Ben won’t let his lover go. Has her go back into the bedroom presumably until he’s finished with me.
“What are you doing?” His words grind out through his teeth.
“Go take care of your piece of ass. You’ve taken your side. Just leave me alone.”
“Collin, I’m not leaving you alone. I’m here. So talk.”
“What is there to say? Andrew is dead.”
“Yeah, he’s dead. He is. We aren’t. We are still breathing here, brother. We’re still breathing. This is the first time in three years my pain feels manageable.”
“Well aren’t you
just the lucky one?”
“It’s not luck. It’s her. It’s Elle. She helps me, man. I thought maybe… I thought it might finally be the same for you. Damn it Col, you seemed so happy last night. What happened?”
What happened? Only the worst thing he could’ve ever done happened. Fuck lying or cheating. Those I might be able to come back from. But what he said? With my track record?
“You want to know what happened?” And I can’t sit anymore, shoving up from the table knocking my chair to the floor and begin pacing. “You want to know what happened?” The pitch of my voice rising to the point of shouting.
“Come on, settle down.”
“Don’t you tell me to settle down. Not when you have no idea what he did,” I scream practically in Ben’s face, throwing a cup swiped up from the counter into the sink, smashing it against the porcelain.
“Tell me.” His hand grips my shoulder again, now with concern rather than anger. “What did Kip do?”
“He… told me he loves me.” Legs shaking so severely, unable to hold my weight any longer, I fall to my knees. “He can’t love me. I won’t let him.”
“It’s okay. It’s okay to love him, you know.”
“It’s not. I’m not allowed to love. It just can’t happen.” I cry like a bitch, like a baby, as he holds me. “It just can’t happen.”
Kip and Andrew have my head so twisted up with Ben desperately trying to untwist me that we both forget about the French toast he’d put in the oven before my little breakdown. While Elle was in the shower, when I’d stuck to just ignoring his presence.
Smoke fills the kitchen setting off the fire alarm. We both grab towels from the pull bar on the oven. I fan the smoke away as he gets the charred remains of their special breakfast out and away from the heat setting the pan on the stovetop. We look at each other knowingly. Andrew’s doing. With our shit getting way too serious, he somehow found his way in to lighten our moods. Ben and I laugh so hard we’re brought to tears.
“Go,” I say to him. “Go to her. You need her… and she needs you.”
“You sure?”
“Go.” I say again, shoving his shoulder.
“Andrew?”
“In here.”
Ben walks me into the kitchen having given up getting laid tonight to literally help a brother out. Apparently Andrew’d called Ben to set us up. Could I get any luckier?
With me sitting at the bar and Andrew grabbing drinks from the fridge, just like normal high school friends would do in case one or both of his parents might wander in, Ben lays it on us. “Mom and Dad just pulled out of the driveway. Basement’s ready. You boys have fun. I’ll just be in the other room watching TV.”
Andrew steps deep in my space, sliding his powerful arms around me and leans in to kiss me long and deep. “Been waiting all night to do that,” he tells me when he pulls back, then plants another kiss to my temple. “Come on. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“Bet you do.” The flirt in my voice clear, although we both know he’s getting lucky tonight.
As Andrew leads me to the basement door, basement only in technical terms because the finished, massive space sits beneath the rest of the house—could be a whole other home—we hear Ben yell from the TV room, “If I hear one of you shout, ‘stick it in me harder’ again, I’m gonna beat the shit out of both of you. Don’t need to be reminded how alone I am tonight.” My boyfriend barks out a laugh.
One of us? He’s being polite. Ben knows our voices. He knows who shouted it the first time. Not that we’ve ever discussed that with Ben, but Andrew doesn’t like to bottom. When we reach the bottommost step a wonderful garlic smell hits us.
“Lasagna?” I ask, excitedly.
“Pasquinos. Ben stopped for me.” We walk to the table in the second kitchen set up for a romantic dinner.
After Pasquinos lasagna, bread sticks, antipasto and tiramisu, after Andrew took me to the guest bedroom and made love to me, slow sweet and beautiful, we lay there naked in each other’s arms. He holds me like I’m precious to him.
“I love you, you know Collin,” he says, suddenly sounding serious.
“I know. I love you too.”
He leans away from me, pulling open the top drawer of the bedside table, taking something out, pushing the drawer closed again and leaning back to me.
“Move to Lafayette after graduation.” It’s not a question, he’s not asking.
“What?”
“Yeah. You come down after graduation. We get an apartment, establish residency then you don’t have to live in the dorms. We can be together all the time. I know you and Ben both got into Perdue.” He hands me what he’d taken from the bedside table. A box. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
It’s a ring.
“It’s not just a ring. It’s a promise. You and me, we escape fucking small town living for good. We build a life away from families who don’t understand us. Build our own family. What do you say?”
Oh my god! “Oh my god! I… well… yes. Yes. I’ll have my car packed. As soon as they drop that diploma in my hand we’ll blow this town forever.”
“Speaking of blowing… ”
Chapter 20
Collin
“Come on… pick up. Pick up,” I whisper to the air with the phone up to my ear.
“If you wanted Kip, you got him. Leave a message, I’ll get back to you.”
It’s been nine days since I’ve talked with him or seen his face. Nine days. I knew right when I’d shoved him what a mistake I’d made. But then to drag it out, let a week and a half pass before ever trying to set us right, well that just puts me at the top, King of the assholes.
He’s not in class, I know the man’s schedule by heart. And he’s not at work because I checked that schedule yesterday. He’s just ignoring me, which I can’t really blame him for.
“Kip…I don’t know what to say. I’m so damn sorry. Please call me back. Please.” I hang up shoving the cell in my pocket as I walk into class. Two hours with American Contemporary Lit. The postmodernists. Fun.
Sabrina waves me down, and I take my usual seat next to her, lucky to have a friend in here. The girl who sits on the other side of me, Emily, tends to get a little handsy when she gets excited, and it seems like she’s really always excited, especially now. She seems especially excited since we started reading William Gaddis, to the point where I need Bri to run interference for me.
Yet another misguided girl.
Emily, she’s pretty enough. Sweet enough. Wouldn’t it make life easier if I could want to be as handsy with her? But even thinking it feels fundamentally misguided. The only person I want to get handsy on ignored my phone call.
“He’ll come around. Just give him time,” Sabrina says, leaning over to talk in my ear.
“I really screwed things up, Bri. He has no reason to come around.”
She looks at me, brows furrowed. “Yes he does. You’re the reason. Have Errol and I always had smooth sailing? No. And you know it because you’ve witnessed us from the beginning.”
“But you never shoved Errol in the chest and accused him of cheating because he said he loved you.”
“Right, but I did knee him in the balls and dump a milkshake over his head for telling me that looking at my ass made him hungry for pigs in a blanket.”
Snickers from at least three chairs surrounding us tell me we have some eavesdroppers.
“Pigs in a blanket are like his favorite all-time food.”
“Well I know that now. Sure as hell didn’t know it at the time. We didn’t talk for two weeks after that.”
“How did you get back together?”
“He came up with a kickass apology which ended in the most mind-blowing orgasm I’d had up to then.”
“That’ll do it.”
“Hell yeah it will.” Emily butts in.
Bri and I both turn narrowed eyes at the girl, and she looks away quickly, studying the notebook in front of her really hard.
Once it seems
like our conversation will be private again, Bri lays her hand on my wrist to get me to look at her. “So now you just need to come up with a kickass apology and prepare yourself to give him the best orgasm of his life.”
It’s a good idea, but I think girls get more out of those giant all or nothing apologies than guys do. Whatever. It doesn’t matter because if he won’t answer my call there’s no chance of an apology to begin with.
“Mr. Pratt,” Professor Scheppler calls on me, taking me completely off guard as my mind has been anywhere but his pointless class. “What do you think Mr. Gaddis was trying to say, what point was he trying to make with our reading for today?”
Fuck. Can’t he see I’m having an existential crisis here? I don’t care what his point was. That’s what I want to tell him. But with or without Kip by my side, I can’t graduate without the damn class, so I suck it up and answer. “Gaddis’ work criticizes how capitalism corrupts the creative mind.”
“Can you explain further, Mr. Pratt?”
No. Can you leave me alone and pick on someone who wants to answer? “He’s comparing the Marxist view of aesthetic, the use value versus the purely monetary value which can or cannot be placed on artistic endeavors.”
“Well you’ve made it easy on yourself. There’s your topic for your paper due the week of midterms. Now if you’ll all take a sheet and hand the stack back, we’ll go over the guidelines for said paper.” Professor Scheppler places a stack of papers on each of the front desks. Take one, pass it back. Take one, pass it back.
At least I don’t have to pay attention any longer. I know how to read.
Time pisses me off, dragging on purpose. Time knows I’m ready to drown my sorrows in coffee and hit the gym to work off the sexual frustration nine fucking days without my boyfriend has caused.
I keep a mental countdown going packing up my backpack before the professor even finishes his lecture. Rude? Probably. How many fucks given? Exactly none. I need to get out of here. Bri tries to keep up with me, but I just can’t talk anymore. She’s living in Happyland, a town I’m not a part of at the moment.
Underside of Courage (Beautifully Disturbed Series Book 2) Page 13
