Trigger

by Julia Derek

“He already knows that my dad left when I was five and that my two stepdads were losers, too. It doesn’t matter. I seriously doubt he wants to see me again. I fucking almost killed the guy, Ricki!”

  “Yeah, that’s true.” She sighed. “That does complicate the situation.”

  I suddenly didn’t feel like talking about Dylan any longer. “What’s going on with you?”

  We spoke a little about Ricki. Before disconnecting though, Ricki made me promise to at least think about calling instead of emailing Dylan to apologize.

  I remained seated on my sofa, the phone in my lap. I felt a little better after talking to Ricki. Not great, but my mood had definitely improved. Ricki always had that effect on me.

  My eyes found the photo with me and Hannah on the side table. Despite knowing better, I walked over to the silver-framed photo and picked it up. The photo displayed us when we were fourteen, right before all the horror in high school happened. This was how I wanted to remember Hannah, eyes burning and her lips smiling wide, like life was always going to be as great as it had been the day this photo was taken. Not like she had been less than a year later, cold and pale and serious, lying inside a white coffin.

  As always, looking at that happy face for more than a couple of seconds made tears sting my eyes and that constricting blanket of guilt folded itself around me. I didn’t need this right now, so why had I gone over to look at Hannah? I really must be a masochist, just like my mom liked to call me for choosing to pursue acting when there were so many better—safer—options in life.

  I examined the feeling of guilt to see if it felt smaller than the last time I had experienced it, the morning after Dylan spent the night at my house.

  It was as big as always.

  Dylan

  Six days had passed since Nina had tried to push me off the cliff. Six long days during which I was still dreaming about her, still finding her interrupting my thoughts. Wishing she was in my arms, her hungry mouth on mine, her naked skin against my body. It made me furious. What was the matter with me? The girl was obviously nuts, yet I couldn’t stop thinking about her? I needed help. Help as in a night out with the boys. It usually cleared away most issues.

  I texted Jack, asking him what was going on for the evening.

  We’re going to a party. They’re opening a new club on Sunset. You coming?

  I texted back, saying that I would, glad nothing had changed with my friends. They were as eager to party as always.

  A couple hours later, I was sitting in my car, driving in the direction of the club where I’d meet up with Jack and our other buddy, Ryan, at the bar. I left my car with the valet outside and walked into the loud club, pushing against all the people arriving at the same time. Getting inside took me a good ten minutes. I cursed myself silently for not having chosen to come earlier or later. I was well aware that eight o’clock was prime time for these kinds of openings where hors d’oeuvres were served, and I hated elbowing my way into venues.

  By the time I reached the bar in question, I was exhausted. Ryan and Jack were already standing there, drinks in hand and talking to some scantily clad, heavily made up girls, most of whom looked surgically enhanced in their faces as well as their bodies. I wasn’t crazy about the look of silicon boobs, having always avoided girls endowed with them, at least if they were grotesquely obvious. Right now, though, I didn’t care if their fake boobs were the size of melons; I needed to talk to girls, any girl that would distract me from thinking any more of Nina. I greeted Jack and Ryan, who introduced me to a couple of the girls. Thankfully, the music wasn’t as loud where we were standing, allowing for all of us to have a conversation. I began with the platinum-blond girl closest to me. After speaking to her for a few minutes, or attempting to speak—it wasn’t easy as the girl was high on something and not really there—I excused myself and went to the bathroom. I sincerely hoped that when I got back, I’d find a better girl to talk to, someone who was in the same world as I at the moment. In most other places this wouldn’t be much to ask for. Unfortunately, at a major club opening in Hollywood, it was.

  I hadn’t even reached the bathroom when I saw her. For the first time in over six months. Emma was walking arm in arm with another girl who wasn’t nearly as attractive. My tall model ex-girlfriend was dressed in a slinky black dress that showcased her long, slender legs and slim body. She hadn’t noticed me yet, and it was doubtful that she would since I was surrounded by lots of people in the darkness. I had stopped moving and was just watching her, surprised that I didn’t feel a thing. Nothing, not even anger at the way she had dumped me. I was truly over her.

  She turned around for some reason, and, against all odds, her large gray eyes found me. The faint smile on her face died as she quickly turned away and continued walking with her friend, back into the club.

  Nina

  “Do we really have to?” I said, my heart sinking when I saw the crowds of people at the entrance of the Blue Moon, the new club opening on Sunset tonight. I couldn’t stand crowds. There were so many people hovering outside the building, the entrance was blocked beneath the huge neon sign that displayed the name. Ricki and I were standing in front of it, several yards away, about to enter. “Look at all these people. We won’t be able to move in there. We should just go home.”

  “Come on,” Ricki said, pulling my arm. “I’m sure it’s not as packed inside. It’ll be fun. And you need to have fun right now, honey. A lot more than I do.”

  I moaned. “Fine. But if I freak out inside, you better have my back, alright?”

  “Don’t we always have each other’s backs?”

  “Yeah, that’s true. We do.” I smiled. “Okay, let’s go then.” I hooked my arm through Ricki’s and, together, we worked ourselves toward the entrance.

  Ricki was right. Partying a little, getting drunk and dancing, was just what I needed. I had felt terrible since the day I almost killed Dylan, nearly a week ago now. Having had some time to reflect, I no longer thought it was something about him but something about me—only—that had prompted such a violent reaction from me. It had to be. So I had made an appointment with a doctor to see what might be wrong with me. Too bad the doctor wouldn’t be able to cure the big hole in my chest that had developed from missing Dylan so much. Sadly, he had yet to respond to the email I sent him the day after the incident. I’d concluded an email was the better approach. It gave Dylan the option to decide how to proceed.

  I’d told him I was sorry, so sorry for what I’d done, and that I had no idea what might have pushed me do such a terrible thing. But I was willing to do whatever it took to get to the bottom of it.

  I hesitated to use the word “push” in the email at first, but then, after some thought, I stayed with it. After all, it was the truth. Something inside me had literally pushed me to do what I did to him, pushed him away from me. It was best to be truthful, bare myself completely. I’d hoped that, if he felt I was being perfectly honest with him, he might give me a chance to explain myself. In person.

  Something inside me pushed me to do what I did, but I don’t know what.

  Maybe together we can figure it out.

  I’d changed my mind about seeing him again. If he was up for it, willing to give us another try, I’d do it. To believe in me that much, after what I did, he was worth pursuing further.

  But, obviously, he wasn’t willing to give us another go.

  Oh, well. Maybe it was best if we stayed away from each other. I didn’t think he might not have gotten the email. We’d exchanged a few emails since we first met, which meant the chance my email had gone into his spam folder was minuscule. Surely his computer recognized my address by now. No, he just didn’t want to have anything to do with me, so I should move on.

  Getting to the club’s entrance through all the people wasn’t as bad as it had appeared. Apparently, half of them had already given up on getting inside because it didn’t take much to let me and Ricki get through. Ricki happened to know one of the doormen, which, unlike
for a big chunk of the people around us, would guarantee a fairly smooth entrance.

  With me attached to her hand, Ricki walked toward one of the three black-clad doormen. They were all busy directing people, some of them in or out of the club, others to remain in place and be patient. Ricki’s friend, a grim-looking, muscular man around thirty with a shaved head and no neck, caught Ricki’s eye and gave her a nod to move over to the right, where the VIP line was. It didn’t take long for us to get inside the dark club, which was just as packed as I had feared. But it was too late now, so I did my best not to let all the people pushing around me bother me.

  “Let’s find a bar,” I said to Ricki, speaking loudly to be sure my friend could hear me over the loud music. “I want a drink right now.”

  “Me, too. I think there’s one over there on the other side of the dance floor.” Ricki nodded in that direction and we took off.

  To my relief, I got one of the modelesque bartenders’ attention almost the second we’d reached the bar counter. I must look like I needed a drink as badly as I felt I did now that I’d been mangled and stepped on by so many people. I ordered a glass of white wine for Ricki and an Absolute Pear on the rocks for myself, grateful to see how much vodka the bartender poured into the highball. A drink that large should last me for a while.

  I had a few big sips of my drink, the liquid burning my throat as it slid down, while scanning the crowds. I felt a little calmer.

  Ricki suddenly grabbed my arm so forcefully I almost dropped my glass.

  “Watch it!” I said, squeezing my highball hard. Ricki was staring at someone at another, bigger bar on the other side of the dance floor. I soon spotted the object of Ricki’s strong reaction. My heart skipped a beat.

  “Isn’t that Dylan?” Ricki said.

  Dylan was standing with a couple of guys, talking intimately with a typical Hollywood bimbo dressed in a tiny, skin-tight dress that left little to the imagination. He looked as handsome as always, happy, like he was having a great time.

  “Yes,” I responded, staring at him. I had another couple of large sips of my drink to soothe the sharp pain that had suddenly developed inside me. Well, he sure moved on quickly.

  Not able to stand watching him talking to that bimbo, I turned away and focused on Ricki. She was still looking at Dylan and the girl he was talking to.

  “I’m sure he’s just talking to her because he’s bored,” she said. “And, deep inside, misses you like crazy.”

  “Yeah, right.” I swept the rest of my drink. As I placed the empty glass on the bar counter, I discovered the same bartender standing right in front of me.

  “Another one?” he said and smiled pleasantly.

  “Definitely,” I said and made myself smile back.

  Dylan

  The other scantily dressed girl didn’t seem high at all, which made her much easier to talk to. I maintained a conversation with her for what must have been five minutes during which the girl pressed herself against me in a way that would have normally turned me on, but failed to do so tonight. The suggestive way she was leaning into me, touching me every twenty seconds in different places, only served to annoy me. I was careful not to display this on my face, though, not wanting to upset the girl. Instead, I kept smiling wide all the while.

  When I thought she was about to begin kissing me, I couldn’t take it any longer. I pretended to be beset by a nasty coughing fit. As I had suspected, my loud, drawn-out hacking made the girl leave of her own accord.

  I could use another drink. As I was about to turn back to the bar counter, my eyes caught what looked like Nina. The backside of Nina. My heart picked up speed as I kept staring. I was certain it was she and not my brain conjuring her up only because I wanted to see her. The luscious silhouette of her body against the backdrop of L.A. by night was imprinted on my mind, and this girl looked exactly the same against the backdrop of the bar that bathed in light from the many tiny overhead spotlights.

  Besides, next to her was that girl who looked like a vampire. Unlike Nina, she was standing so that I got a good view of her profile. Yes, that was definitely Nina’s friend…

  Which meant it was Nina standing at the bar, just like I’d thought.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, the knowledge of her being so close making my heart swell with happiness, even though a little voice in my mind kept reminding me that she was bad news. Someone I needed to erase from my mind. She hadn’t even tried to contact me to say she was sorry for what she’d done, something I’d secretly hoped she’d do, and which might have made me think twice about forgetting her in the end. I sighed. She was definitely psycho. A normal person would have reached out for a chance to explain herself.

  What was she doing here anyway? It seemed too much of a coincidence that she had simply planned to come here tonight as well.

  Is she following me?

  The thought produced a mixture of emotions within me, some of them, to my horror, positive, prompting me to smile. As soon as I realized what I was doing, I wiped the smile off of my face. Fuck, I really needed to see someone, get some help with my dangerous attraction to this girl.

  No, I decided. It was probably only a coincidence. There weren’t that many new clubs opening in the city each night, and this one had garnered extra attention. Besides a slew of celebrities, everybody who wanted to be somebody was here. And Nina wanted to be somebody. I was just trying to flatter myself.

  I forced myself to remove my gaze from her. Hopefully, she hadn’t seen me yet. I didn’t think us having a chat would be wise. Based on how our last interaction had ended, who knew what she would do to me this time. For all I knew, she might be armed with a knife or a gun. Suddenly, I wanted to go home, be far away from this girl who made me feel so many conflicting emotions. But before I’d leave I would have another drink. I ordered another screwdriver and got into a conversation with Ryan.

  I had only finished half of the drink when Ryan stopped talking, his face having turned into a stiff mask. He was looking at something behind me. I turned around to see what had captured my buddy’s attention to such a degree.

  “Emma!” I said when I saw the woman who was standing behind me. What the hell did she want?

  She gave me a sheepish smile that failed to touch me in any way. “How have you been, Dylan?”

  “Um, not too bad. How about you? Things going well with Hugo?”

  She glanced down at her feet. “Actually, things aren’t that great.” She looked up, straight into my eyes. Again, I felt nothing. Damn, I’m really over her. “I made a mistake in leaving you for him. I don’t know what I was thinking. Well, I guess that was the problem.” She laughed hollowly. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  I could hardly believe the words I was hearing. Was Emma trying to tell me she wanted me back? It had sure sounded like it. I must have completely misread her when I spotted her by the bathrooms, thinking she couldn’t get away from me fast enough.

  I didn’t say anything, just watched Emma keep rambling on.

  “…he’s such a nasty, mean guy. You wouldn’t believe some of the things he says to me, how he treats me!” Tears glittered in Emma’s pretty big eyes now. “Last night he threw me out of his apartment, claiming I was annoying him so much he couldn’t stand being in the same room as me!”

  I suddenly felt sorry for the tall, slender woman in front of me. She was nothing more than a spoiled child, really, when it came down to it. Someone I should pity. I took her in my arms and stroked her head, feeling paternal. Emma’s arms were around my neck instantly, hugging me like someone deprived of love.

  “I want you back, Dylan,” she whispered into my ear, her voice muffled with tears. “Please take me back.”

  I kept stroking her blond hair, not saying a word in response. And then I caught the furious eyes of Nina, staring straight at us from the other side of the dance floor.

  Nina

  “That fucking guy is just too much!” I said, my fourth Absolute Pear on the rocks
in my hand. I swept the rest of it and ordered a fifth from the always accommodating bartender.

  “Nina,” Ricki said, placing a hand on my arm. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough to drink now?”

  I shook off Ricki’s hand and let out a loud guffaw, slapping the bar counter hard. “I really do have a built-in asshole detector. Fucking awesome!” I ordered the drink from the bartender, holding the money away from Ricki so she couldn’t snatch it away from me. I was hurting so bad inside I needed to have another drink. The sight of Dylan holding that tall, blond girl close, caressing her hair, had felt like someone was drilling a gigantic screw into my intestines. Just one more drink and then I would go home and pass out on my couch, forget all about ever having known Dylan Whitman. He had clearly never been that into me.

  Who the hell is that chick anyway? And why is Dylan hugging her like that? As much as it pissed me off to admit it to myself, this girl was very pretty—no, gorgeous was a better word, super model gorgeous—the kind of girl all the guys had fought over to date when I was in high school. They sure as hell hadn’t wanted to date me, Nina. I was considered a dirty Russian Jew. I could only thank my lucky stars that guys felt differently about me these days.

  Fuming, I received the clinking glass from the bartender and chugged its contents. God, that felt good, I thought as the burning liquid rushed down my throat and hit my stomach. It did make the pain inside me go away, if only temporarily. Maybe now that I had drunk so much, it would stay away longer. The floor felt a little unsteady suddenly and I remembered that it had been a while since I had eaten. Wait, more than a while. I hadn’t eaten since lunch and that had been at one. I turned to face Ricki. My friend had a twin standing beside her all of a sudden, a twin who did exactly the same things as Ricki did with her face. Wow, I must be really drunk, I thought and for some irrational reason this thought cracked me up. Ricki contemplated me, looking awfully serious. I felt someone grab my upper arm.