by Blair Holden
His body goes lax when he sees me on the other side of the bed, listening to an audiobook.
“Hey, Tessie.”
“Hey, sleepyhead, feeling rested?”
“I feel like I got run over by a train.” He huffs and falls back into bed with a thud. “That was some nap.”
“I’m glad you got some sleep. You’ve been running around like a machine lately.”
“I couldn’t sleep back there, even when I tried. You’d think staring up at the ceiling all night would get exhausting.”
My heart aches for him, but I know the feeling. I’ve missed being near him, being held by him as we fall asleep. The only time I’ve managed to get some rest is when I’ve passed out from utter exhaustion after hours of studying.
I turn off the light on my bedside table and snuggle up next to him.
“Got a few more hours of sleep in you?”
He still looks tired, and all of a sudden, like it’s infectious, I feel utterly worn out. My head hits the pillow and I crash, but not before knowing that Cole’s here and he’s still holding me as I pass out.
Chapter Four: They Respect My Privacy Like McDonald’s Respects Arteries
When I was younger, there were very few moments of adults giving you life lessons. My parents, even when they were blind to the wreck that was their marriage, weren’t the kind of people who sat their kids down after they’d done something wrong and explained to them why it was wrong in the first place. Travis and I got told off, Travis more so than me, and we’d be treated like god-awful people for quite a while, until we eventually realized we weren’t supposed to sneak into the neighbors’ garden and play with their dog without asking permission first.
My grandparents, bless them, were the opposite. Whenever the O’Connell matriarch and patriarch visited, they made sure to make up for our own parents’ lack of, well, parenting. I remember a time when I’d been around six or seven and Cole had been unusually sullen to me at school. I’d come home and told everyone in the vicinity that I wished he were dead. At this point I was well acquainted with what death was and how people never came back once they were gone. Grandma heard me and had given me a look so filled with disappointment that I realized immediately that I’d said something horrible. She took me aside, sat me down in her lap, and gave me a lesson I still remember today.
“Sweetheart, you do remember those guns you saw hanging in your grandpa’s office back home?”
I’d nodded, unsure of what that had to do with my punishment.
“Well, do you know that once your fire a bullet from one, you can’t ever take it back? So if your grandpa aims it wrong or regrets making the shot in the first place, there’s nothing he can do about it?” She raised a brow and looked at me expectantly.
“That sounds bad...wishing you could take something back and you just can’t.” It sounded horrible.
“It is bad, and you know what’s worse? Words, honey, words. You can hurt someone a lot with your words, and once those words are out of your mouth, you can’t take them back, just like the bullet.”
“But Mom says we can apologize and it makes everything okay.”
She sighed. “Apologies don’t fix everything, sweet girl, I wish they could. Words that really hurt someone stay in their hearts for a long time. What’s worse is that unlike the bullet, these words find a way to come back and make you feel even worse. Say that Stone boy had heard you today; you know his Momma died? How would he feel? How would he continue to feel?”
I realized then that he’d feel bad, he would feel real bad, and that I didn’t want to ever make someone feel that way. Maybe somewhere along the way I forgot my Grandma’s lesson, but there’s something so spine-chilling about knowing that your actions can’t be undone, you can’t press the reset button, you can’t press pause or delete or any of that. It makes you cautious; it should make you cautious.
But what we should do and what we actually do in life are two completely different stories.
***
Christmas holidays are off to a good start, despite Cole’s melancholic mood. He’d gone home and decided against telling his family his doubts about the future of his college football career, but I know they could tell that there’s something off about him. Even Jay had come up to me, concerned about how unusually quiet his stepbrother was being. I don’t tell anyone anything—what happens in college should stay in college—and here back home we’re free, freer than we’d been in ages. We spent most of our time relaxing with our friends and families, catching up on some Christmas shopping and eating more food than is humanly possible.
But at the back of my mind, an annoying voice tells me that I need to try harder to figure out what’s going on with Cole, but I don’t listen to it.
Our dinner with Dad’s new girlfriend, Danielle, went really well—to everyone’s surprise. Cole and I were joined by Travis and Beth, and all of us managed to have a civil evening together, with no barbs thrown. I’d nearly shed a tear at how my brother and father’s relationship had transformed, and then to see my dad happy with a genuinely nice, mature woman was the cherry on top. At least he’d refrained from posting updates about his wildly inappropriate relationship with a cabana boy on social media, unlike one other parent of mine.
But with the way things are going, way too smooth and peaceful for my liking, you always feel a sense of foreboding, and it’s exactly that which is Cole is trying to talk me out of.
Christmas is a couple of days away and my house looks more festive than ever before. But unlike previous Christmases, what’s present very much this time is genuine love and warmth. Previous years had celebrations that felt cold and sterile; that day would start with us four bickering among ourselves and it would end pretty much the same way. A gigantic tree or award-winning lawn decorations isn’t what the holiday spirit is about, especially when the people living inside the house can’t stand to be in the same space for more than a couple of hours. This time around, everything and everyone’s different. Beth and Travis are staying over for the days that I’m here; we’re catching up and it feels wonderful. Beth, Megan, and I have sleepovers constantly. Cole is over more times than not, or I’m at his place. Our parents meet up for drinks often, and life feels good, but it also feels like I’m living inside a bubble that could burst any second.
“Shortcake, you need to stop stressing; it’s contagious. I feel like I’m supposed to have a panic attack that I really don’t want to have.”
He’s sprawled across my bed as I sit at my vanity, my fingers tapping restlessly on the table. I’m not a hugely pessimistic person, or so I like to think, but there’s a nagging feeling that’s been clawing at me for a couple of days, one that I shove to a side and lock up in a box even the TSA would find hard to open. I don’t want to be the person that makes everyone’s day go downhill, which is why I’ve been trying to hide this growing inner panic, but how do you hide that from someone who spends just as much time with you as you do?
That panic grows when I open my email inbox and see the top couple of emails that settle into my stomach like lead. They’re all requests for interviews, very exposing interviews about someone who people think is my ex. They respect my privacy as McDonald’s respects arteries. As the chances of Cole being drafted sooner, and that too by a big team, increase, so do people’s curiosities and the urge to dig up more dirt about him. The amount of money I’m being offered is obscene, and some of the questions make me feel sick. I haven’t told him about it, but I don’t want to give Cole yet another reason to want to give up his career.
Sighing, I power off my laptop and stand to face Cole.
“We should do something fun, something we’ve never done before.”
He waggles his brows at me. “Sounds adventurous,” he lifts himself up on his elbows, “what do you have in mind?”
“I’m not even going to acknowledge that with a response,” I tell him straight-faced and start gathering my stuff. I tuck myself into multiple layers of sweater
s, scarves, and coats until there’s no way I look remotely sexy, and look at my boyfriend, who still has no intention of leaving the room.
“Let’s go! I want a burger, and I think Beth’s pulling a shift for old time’s sake at Rusty’s.”
Groaning, he makes a huge production of lifting himself up off the bed and shrugs on his coat. I manage to school my features into something resembling joy and literally push him to leave the room. Once we’re safely out of the house, I’m able to put those interviewers and their questions out of my mind.
***
“So...” Beth half glares, half frowns at Cole as she settles his coffee in front of him a bit too harshly. “Are you fake broken up or not?”
In response he slings an arm across our booth seat and gives her a look that would’ve scared me.
But nothing scares Beth, apparently.
“I don’t need to answer that question, but since you look like you’re two seconds away from ripping me to shreds, then I’d say that it’s complicated.”
“What the hell do you mean it’s complicated? You’re either together or you’re not; this fake breakup is bullshit and you know it. Tessa’s not a wimp; she’s faced bullies way worse than what she’s dealing with right now, and that was before your superhero ass showed up. Don’t you dare belittle her like that,” she growls, and Travis has to get up to restrain her from physically attacking Cole. I’m frozen in place not having expected this outbreak.
“Beth,” I begin but she refuses to be placated. Thankfully the only people in the diner right now are us four and Megan and Alex, so I’m not completely mortified to have been put on the spot like this.
“You don’t realize, do you? What being snubbed like that does to a person? You’re doing to her what everyone in her life has already done to her! Making her feel like she’s not good enough for you? You would’ve thought with the way you chased her that you’d value her more than anyone else, especially given your past mistakes.”
And that’s it. Maybe I should appreciate the fact that my best friend is standing up for me, that she’s only got my best interest at heart, but I can’t let her continue berating Cole, who’s gone deathly pale next to me; I’m not even sure if he’s breathing.
“Okay, that’s enough, you need to stop.”
Megan’s always the voice of reason; maybe she’ll stop me from saying something I’ll regret. “Beth, maybe you should let them handle this on their own. Now’s not the best time to bring it up.”
She glares at all of us, at my brother holding her, and then specifically at me. She blows out a breath like she’s disappointed and then storms off to the kitchen. Shortly after that, Cole follows suit and stalks out of the diner.
Our food sits in front of us, getting colder by the second, but no one seems to be in the mood to eat. I start to get up and go after Cole but Alex is already there, out the door, and maybe that’s a better idea. Maybe he needs some time away from me and the constant guilt he’s had to suffer because of his decision; I’m a constant reminder.
Travis looks torn between going after his girl or staying there for me, but I gesture with my head for him to go to her. Beth needs to cool off; I know that she’s coming from a good place, but she stepped out of line here.
Megan scoots closer to me and rests her head on my shoulder, sighing like she knows I’m not going to like whatever she’s planning on saying to me.
“I know you might hate me but...Beth has a point. She might not have put it across in the best way, but I know that you know she’s right.”
She doesn’t finish the rest of her carefully thought-out plan, and I’m glad for it. I don’t need other people telling me what I already know. But I’m just so sick of thinking about this, about overthinking and convincing myself repeatedly that Cole and I are fine; we are in actuality, but I’m too tired to try to prove a point right now.
I get up to go after Cole, glancing at the kitchen. “You’ve got her?”
Megan nods. “She loves you.”
“And I love her for that, but some things she just won’t get.”
***
I find Cole in our park, our park where we first danced, and he’s back at the very spot because that’s where I asked to meet him after he’d had a chance to cool off. I’m not sure what magic Alex has worked, but Cole’s obviously in a better mood, since the moment he sees me, he grabs my hand and kisses me like crazy. Resting his forehead against mine, he breathes, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have just left like that.”
I shrug, still feeling a bit woozy after the kiss. “She shouldn’t have attacked you like that.”
“But she didn’t say anything we haven’t thought about before.”
“There’s something called tact; clearly my best friend has forgotten how to use it.”
He chuckles against my skin and that, combined with the cold, has me shivering. “You cold?” I shrug again and he wraps his arms around me. There’s determination in his voice when he says next, “I’m going to find a way to fix everything.” I don’t have the heart to tell him that maybe it’s all spiraling out of control already.
We grab some hot chocolates on our way back to my house, the past events of the day long forgotten. Unfortunately for us, Beth and Travis seemed to have planned their day in a similar fashion since they’re both headed right toward us, with Beth’s head ducked down and my brother whispering into her ear. They must sense us there since Beth’s head snaps up and she looks at me, eyes full of remorse.
She leaps away from my brother and rushes to me, grabbing on to my arms. “I’m sorry.” Her eyes are slightly puffy. “I was having a bad day and I took it out on you.” She looks at Cole as well. “Whatever I think about your relationship is my problem, not yours. You can figure things out on your own, I just...I wanted to help but I guess I messed up real bad.”
And my heart breaks for her, because this concern obviously stems from something in her past, things she refuses to talk about, but I don’t let her dwell on it for too long. Hugging her tightly to me, I say, “We’re good.”
She pulls back and looks at Cole. “Well get in on the hug, idiot, or I’ll think you still hate me.”
He grins and wraps his arms around both of us. “To think I’d want to mess with someone who might possibly have mob connections.”
The awkward group hug breaks off and Beth winks at us. “Possible? I’d show you my membership tattoo but Travis might kill you later.”
“Hey, I heard that, no one’s seeing any tattoo.” Travis tosses his arms across Beth’s shoulders, looking relieved that we’re past our drama.
“So you’re not denying my mob connections?” She pinches his side playfully.
“All I know is that the day we started dating seriously, I got a phone call from a guy who supposedly knows a guy who’ll put me in a body bag if I ever hurt you.”
“Sounds about right.”
We let them be and leave, before they get a little too hands-on for sisterly viewing. But we barely make it to the front door before my Dad opens it on his own, looking more stressed and frazzled than I’ve recently seen him look. He’s got his phone clutched in his hand and his eyes dart nervously toward Cole and me.
“Dad, is everything okay?”
He looks visibly shaken, something that Travis must also have noticed since he’s coming our way, Beth’s hand in his. “What’s wrong?”
“I just got a call from my media cell at the office.” He runs a shaky hand through his hair, “I...I should’ve mentioned this earlier, but I’ve been planning on running for a bigger office than the one I hold right now, and my opponent’s playing dirty.” He exhales, but we’re all still confused. It’s chilly outside and worry settles into our veins like ice. Dad’s political ambitions haven’t always been the best for my family, but they’ve never had a direct negative impact either, so it’s strange that he’s so panicked right now.
“Dad,” I say softly, “let’s go inside. It’s cold out here.” I take him gently
by the elbow and steer him inside, everyone else following suit. We sit in the living room and I get him a glass of water that shakes in his hand.
“So this call...was it bad?”
He sets the glass of water on the table and hangs his head.
“They’re going in for the kill. They...they know a lot about your mom and me, about Travis and his drinking and about you...Tess, they’re making up these horrible lies about you. I’m going to kill those bastards with my bare hands.”
I start shaking, and all the ominous feelings that have been building up inside me the past couple of days seem to culminate in this one moment.
“What do you mean? What the hell could they possibly have to write about her?” Cole growls next to me.
“Bulimia,” Dad chokes out, “depression, self-harm.”
“What the fuck.” I don’t know who says it first, Travis or Cole, but they’re both on their feet, veins pulsating in their necks. “Dad, you’ve got to stop this from going to print. I don’t give a shit what they write about me, it’s nothing that people don’t already know, but you can’t let them do this to her.”
“You think I want this to happen?” He’s shouting too. “You think I want them to drag my children through the mud? No political career is worth that. I’ll withdraw my papers; I said that, but they’ve already gone public with the information. We’re trying to combat it now, do some damage control. My people were ambushed, they didn’t see this coming, but everyone’s working as hard and fast as they can.”
“Tess, hey, you okay?” Beth is on her knees in front of me, clasping my hands in hers. “This doesn’t change anything; no one’s going to believe tabloid crap or care. You know it’s not a big deal, right?”
I wish...I wish it weren’t, but the ravenous, gossip-hungry reporters whose emails fill my inbox come to mind, and I know that people are going to care a damned lot.
