Tears and Other Fears

by Coralee June

  “My parents have high expectations,” he replied cryptically.

  “So high that you’d rather kill an innocent man than disappoint them?” I asked back. What the fuck kind of abuse had he endured? I didn’t feel sorry for him, but the inevitable end William faced was like a detailed map. I wanted every road that led to that fated conclusion. I wanted to break every hand that played a part in orchestrating his death.

  “If I tell you how my daddy hit me, is that going to make you feel sorry for me? ’Cause I’m not here for your pity. I’m here because…” his voice trailed off, and immediately my fucked up brain worked to understand all the little nuances that made Samuel tick. “I’m here because I feel more guilty about using you up than I do about killing your brother. I fucked you because it felt nice, and I want to do it again. I’m here because I know I’ll never have you, and that’s twisting me up more than knowing I held a gun to your chest and drugs to your brother’s lips.”

  I wasn’t expecting that response. I kind of hated that he caught me off guard. I guess we shared that feeling. I hated that the one person who could ease the turmoil in my head was also the source of them. It was powerful, really, knowing that I’d always held that power over him.

  “You’re never going to have me again, Samuel. And I really hope I get to end your life so that you know it was something you wanted that ended you.”

  Samuel wasn’t surprised by my reaction. It was no secret that I wanted him dead. I wanted the entire world to burn at this point. “You won’t win,” Samuel whispered.

  “Why not?” Samuel didn’t get it. Winning was subjective. I could walk out of this coffee shop and blow my brains out like Congressman Bright’s wife did last year and still feel like a winner. The prize was the absence of pain, and I was chasing it down with everything I had.

  Samuel’s face distorted at my question. “Because people like me don’t pay for our crimes. Do you think my father doesn’t know what happened here? You think the school board didn’t notice something off with a straight-A student dying from an overdose? I’m not the only person with a secret, and I’m certainly not the first person to cover one up. There are casualties of war, and your brother was one of them. All you can do is heal now. Isn’t it enough that I feel terrible? But even if I wanted to go public, the system wouldn’t let me. My parents are too important; this school is too important.”

  I slammed both palms on the table. “No. That’s not good enough,” I seethed. “You may think that the guilt is enough, but it’s not. Importance is nothing when you’re dead.”

  “Is that a threat?” he asked.

  “It is. It’s a threat, a promise, and a truth all rolled into one. I’m going to destroy you, Samuel. I’m going to make sure the world knows about what happened to my brother. I’m not scared about my reputation or your parents’ influence. I’m not scared of dying. I’m not scared of being forgotten. I’m scared of pretending William never existed, which is far worse than the fate you handed him on a silver platter.”

  He opened his mouth to answer, but a familiar face approaching and a shift in the air caught my attention. I was so busy staring at Samuel that I hadn’t noticed the approaching trouble. At the entrance, Noah and Young walked through, both looking frantic and scared for their lives.

  “Octavia?” Young called out when he saw me. Noah turned towards the table I was sitting at, and his shoulders slumped in relief.

  It took a good fifteen seconds for the betrayal to set in. It was like tar coating my paper-thin bones and dancing on my soul. The moment Noah’s eyes met mine, I saw that short-lived relief flee his tired-looking body. The next emotion to cross his features was absolute fear. He expected me to lash out, and I had half a mind to do that. But I felt myself wanting to catch him off guard. It was more fun that way.

  “Noah! Surprised to see you here,” I said while pasting on the best smile I could come up with. It bled with resentment. “Did Young call you before or after he found me no longer in his bed? Just curious if he was hoping for a slumber party or...” I let my voice drift off as I ran a long nail down my top, scratching at the worn font.

  “After. I was worried about you, Tav,” Young answered for him in a whisper. He then traveled over to kneel at my chair. I liked having him kneel. He placed a finger on my chin and looked into my eyes with that same sense of love and adoration he held last night, and it was making me cagey.

  “Well, I’m here. Just having breakfast with Samuel. I told him to come home so I could strangle him in his sleep,” I joked but didn’t really feel the humor in my words. The idea had merit, I’d admit.

  Young turned to look at Samuel and gave him an incredulous stare before standing back up. He tugged at the bottom of his shirt before putting his hands on his hips like a goddamn mother hen. He looked ridiculous. “What are you doing here?”

  “Octavia showed up serendipitously. We didn’t plan this, not that it’s any of your business,” Samuel spouted off like he had a right to.

  “The three of us have got to stop meeting like this,” I teased, though Noah’s hot stare was burning my skin, which still smelled of Young, to a fucking crisp. “Look. I just needed some space, ran into Samuel, and decided we should probably discuss the time he held a gun to my chest and admitted to killing William.”

  I was just letting the truth hang out like my grandmother’s breasts at the Christmas brunch of 2013. Samuel didn’t even fucking flinch. “Octavia,” he tsked. That was all he said. Didn’t even deny it, just sat there with a smug smile while holding gun smoke in his teeth. I wanted to run to the counter and grab a butter knife, drag it along his skin and hope for the best.

  “Samuel, I’m surprised you’re even here,” Young began before sitting in the chair next to me. Noah stood awkwardly at my back with his arms crossed. “I thought you were staying with your parents until graduation?”

  Samuel gave me a hard stare before turning his attention to Young. “I had some stuff to do. I’m going home tonight, though.”

  I decided to pipe in. “Did that stuff include paying Renon back? Rumor has it you owe him a lot of money.”

  Samuel’s face drained of blood, but he kept his face expressionless. “Who is Renon?” he asked. I had to laugh.

  “You’re almost convincing, Sammy boy,” I choked out. A hand clamped down on my shoulder, and I shrugged it off. Noah hadn’t earned the right to touch me. Sex with me was a reward system, and Noah would be earning stars for the rest of his life if he wanted to ever touch me again.

  Young continued, “Well, you should have called. We could have met for lunch. Also, please let your parents know that Octavia will be my plus one for your graduation party. I hope that’s alright?” Young asked while placing his arm over my shoulders. It was a strategic move, and the only reason I didn’t shrug off the intimacy was because I wanted to watch Samuel squirm.

  And squirm he did.

  His mouth dropped open. He sputtered. “Oh. I mean, I suppose that’s fine. I wasn’t expecting… How long have…”

  Young stared at his friend before responding. “Since I ended things with Mrs. Robinson.”

  They shared a silent stand-off for what felt like ages. I waited to see who would be the first one to break. It was a battle of wills on a chessboard made of my heart. “Well. Good for you, yes, I’m looking forward to seeing you both there.”

  I didn’t like the power plays and the unspoken threats. All of the orchestrated back and forth was pissing me off. “This is pointless. What Young isn’t saying is that he’s skeptical of you, Samuel. He’s starting to see through your lies, and he’s bringing me to your graduation party to test you. I have a feeling you’re going to fail it like you did that test Young was stealing the answer sheet for.” Young shook his head at my words but didn’t contradict me. “I’m leaving. I’m not sure if I want to go to your graduation party. The only function I want to attend that honors you is your funeral,” I lied. Oh, I’d be going alright. And I’d have Renon wi
th me. It was time to get all my victims in the same room.

  I stood up, and Young followed after me like a sad little puppy, while Noah stared at my back in silence, the desperation from our meeting yesterday slipping away. Maybe he had finally gotten the memo. Perhaps he finally gave up on me. Everyone else always did.

  Chapter 8

  Young waited until my hand was clutching the handle of his penthouse suite before accosting me about bailing on him this morning. He probably wanted to trap me so I couldn’t leave. I never understood why people tried to hold me tighter; it just made me want to flee even more. “Why did you disappear this morning?”

  I closed my eyes to steel myself for a moment before twisting the knob and going inside. I had a feeling that this was going to be a difficult conversation, and I wasn’t feeling like my usual don’t give a fuck self to handle it. Seeing Samuel and Noah at the same time fucked me up. Both betrayed me in their own ways. Both deserved all the bottled up anger curdling in my gut like sour milk.

  To add to my misery, the penthouse smelled like sex and Samuel’s cologne. I didn’t like it. Suddenly I felt the urge to run again.

  “You were holding me,” I replied with a shrug, as if that could explain everything to him. How could I possibly explain that I had a fear of abandonment? I usually left before people had the opportunity to leave me. He had the same demons as I did—had the love of his life ripped from this world. Now, he was just clinging to me because he thought I was a good enough substitute to fill that void. I wasn’t.

  “I was holding you?” he asked, seeking clarification.

  “Yes. You were holding me and looking all peaceful and shit. I’m not ready to leave one prison to settle into the arms of another.” My words had more bite than I intended, but I couldn’t help it. I needed out.

  Young laughed. It sounded addictive. “You left because I was holding you and because I looked peaceful? You’re a mess.”

  “I never pretended not to be. Just don’t expect much from me, Young. I’ll let you down. Remember what you told me? I like to crush flowers in my fist. It’ll be better if you don’t get caught up in that.”

  I knew it was a lie. I had stopped feeling like a fist a long time ago. Right now, I felt empty—well, not really empty. I was filled with a bunch of nothing emotions that made me feel brimming with despair and all the other toxic shit that made me a bad candidate for healing Young. I didn’t know how to be William. I didn’t know how to be someone’s everything and repair all the little cracks of their soul so that they could feel whole again.

  “You’re not a fucking fist, and you know it. There’s something here between us. Last night was…perfect.”

  He wasn’t wrong. Last night was intense; it was everything I didn’t even know I was craving, but I couldn’t admit that to myself. Admitting last night meant something, would mean I’d have to admit that somewhere between revenge and knowledge, I’d learned to forgive Young for his part in William’s death. Not only that, but I’d learned to care about him, too. “I’m not William. Never will be.”

  “I know that, Tav,” he whispered. “Can we just go back and pretend we’re okay for a little bit?” He must have sensed the flee in my bones, because he was changing the subject like it was easy to do. He waltzed over to the kitchen and started pulling out food, tugging on his wrinkled jeans as he bent over to look at the fridge.

  After pulling out eggs and some vegetables, he straightened and searched for a frying pan. He looked handsome despite the thrown together way his clothes and hair looked. I noticed a smearing of red lipstick on his neck, a temporary mark proving that I was on him last night. I couldn’t decide if I liked it or not.

  “You gonna make me breakfast and ask how my day is going? Did you ever do this for William?” I asked. The only way we’d ever normalize our...friendship...was if I made it hurt. William was always going to be a constant comparison in our lives. A constant threat. A constant disappointment. No, that wasn’t right.

  I was the disappointment. The filler. William was just dead.

  Either way, the only way we’d ever truly get over the awkwardness was to let it hurt us so much that we became desensitized to the idea that I’d never be William, and Young would never care for me the way he cared for my twin. Maybe then we could fuck again, ’cause we sure as hell would never make love. I wasn’t capable of that.

  “Yes. I did. So tell me about your fucking day, Octavia,” he gritted while chopping onions, gripping the damn knife so tightly I was certain it would slip and slice his skin. I didn’t really like the idea of blood on his hands, so I maneuvered over to him and grabbed the sharp blade and started slicing through the vegetable known for making people cry. My damn eyes didn’t even water.

  “I ran into Samuel. Threatened him. Found out he wanted to fuck me again, and then found out we’re going to his graduation party. I’m thinking I’ll bring Renon as a date, just to fuck with him.”

  Young paused beside me but had the good sense not to question the stream of words falling out of my lips. “Oh,” he simply said. I’d officially dumbfounded him, and I wasn’t sure if I liked that.

  I didn’t believe in serendipitous moments, because the idea that everything was predestined made me sick. I didn’t want to know what kind of God intentionally stole my brother from me and turned Samuel into a murderer. But at that exact moment, my phone rang from Young’s bedroom. I dropped the knife on the cutting board and wandered over to it, ignoring the ruffled sheets on Young’s bed that smelled like us. Picking up my phone, I frowned at the unknown number and answered it.

  “Hello, Octavia the Vengeful, how are you this morning?” Renon’s deep voice asked. It sounded like he had just woken up and was hungover as hell. A woman’s voice whimpered over the line, and I imagined him stroking some faceless woman’s cunt with his index finger while talking to me.

  “Hello, Renon the Drug Dealer,” I replied with mirth.

  “You’re just the person I wanted to talk to.”

  “Oh? Why?” I asked.

  “Samuel stopped by last night and said he wanted an extension to pay his debt. I didn’t really like that, and I think it’s time we team up. This is a partnership that could have a lot of benefits, don’t you think?” he asked, insinuation in his tone. I could think of a few benefits I’d like to cash in on.

  Yeah. I think I could benefit from having his massive cock pounding me into oblivion. Maybe I could have that cocky tongue lapping me up, too. I shivered at the thought.

  I looked up just in time to see Young leaning against the doorframe. He had his hand under his shirt and was scratching his abs, which were marked up with cuts from my fingernails. I watched in a trance before returning to my call. “Wanna be my date to Samuel’s graduation party? I’ve got an exclusive invitation and could use some arm candy.” Silence met me on the other end of the line, so I spoke again. “I do have a minimum three orgasm rule for all my dates though. You’ll finally have to put that smooth-talking tongue to use.”

  “You’re saying you got an invite to his house? Yeah, I’m in. And I think that’s a fair trade. I get to come to the party; you get to come in my mouth.” Fair trade, indeed. I was definitely liking the sound of this. Maybe I could convince Young to pay up, too.

  “Cool. Young is my date, too. You’ll have to play nice. No pissing contests, unless the contest involves who fucks me harder.” Visions of both of them filling me up had me drooling. I was a mess, a fucking mess.

  He gave a dark chuckle on the other line before responding. “Young?”

  “As in Nathaniel Youngblood.”

  Renon laughed. “Sounds like fun.”

  My eyes shot to Young’s. “Pick me up tomorrow at six. Bye.”

  “You’re really taking him?” Young asked before walking over to me. He cupped my cheeks, forcing me to look him in the eye. I didn’t necessarily like what I saw there, but I didn’t let him know that it had affected me.

  “And you. Is that going to be a
problem?”

  “I don’t have a good feeling about him,” he whispered.

  “I don’t have a good feeling about a lot of things, and yet here we are. I have to deal with the fact that you’ll always care about a dead man more than me, so you can deal with the fact that I’ll always love revenge more than I love people. I’ll always choose myself first. I’ll always fight for myself. I’m a narcissist, I’m single-minded. I’m not good, Young.” His face slipped as I broke off every piece of my destruction and lay it on the table. “The sooner you realize that, the sooner this will be easier for both of us. I’m fun. I’ll keep you on your toes, but we both know I’m something temporary, in every fucking sense of the word.”

  He let out a puff of air before crashing his lips to mine, drinking me up like I was a cup with a leak in it. My tongue danced along his as I sunk into the kiss. His lips were warm and comforting, but the passion in his sweeping movements had me on the edge of a cliff I had no business jumping off of. I knew I couldn’t love him back, but I couldn’t help myself. I was always being tempted by things I knew would hurt me.

  “You’re also a liar, Octavia Wilson,” he whispered against my lips while holding me in place. “You couldn’t be temporary even if you tried.”

  Chapter 9

  Samuel’s house had so many windows, it looked like it was made of glass. I’m sure there was some symbolism hidden behind those transparent walls, but I was too busy navigating his toxic stare and pretentious attitude to really submerge myself in the poetry of it. Samuel was standing in an upstairs bedroom, looking down at us below. I debated on throwing rocks at his window, because I was more than okay with casting the first stone.