by Blair Holden
“I can smell the chocolate, Cole. It’s speaking to me.”
He chuckles. “Okay, Barefoot Contessa, I will sleuth and serve you in just a minute.”
“That was a terrible pun, but I can’t believe I’ve never thought of it before.”
Kissing my forehead, Cole leaves for his car and I’m just about to head up the stairs when Jay walks in from the direction of the kitchen, carrying a plate of goodies.
“Cookies?”
I know I shouldn’t be embarrassed that my former crush slash current boyfriend’s stepbrother had to come bail me out of jail, but I am. My relationship with Jay is complex in the way that to me he represents everything that was once wrong with me. If Cole thinks that he drudges up my insecurities, then he has nothing on the kind of person I was when I’d liked Jay. Looking at him now makes me remorseful for being so hard on myself, for always trying to measure up to girls like Nicole, for trying to be someone I clearly wasn’t. I don’t want him seeing me while I hit my lows and still go back to being that messed-up person.
But he doesn’t seem like he’s treating me with contempt or pity, as usual he’s the aloof, clueless Jay he’s always been. I’m not exactly comfortable being around him when I’ve got on what looks like just Cole’s buttoned-up jacket.
“You bake?” My hands are drawn toward the goodies.
“I don’t, uh, Stephanie does. She says it’s her favorite way to destress.”
“Wait, Stephanie, like Cole’s date, Stephanie?”
To his credit, Jay’s cheeks color and he averts his eyes. “Yeah, her. He sort of ran out on her when he got the call about you. That was a dick move, she didn’t know anyone, so I had to…”
“I understand, and that was really nice of you, Jay. But then what were you doing at the station?”
“After I told Stephanie what was going on and introduced her to a couple of people she could hang out with, I followed Travis and Cole. Dad told me to, just to make sure he didn’t do anything rash.”
I can never, ever face Sheriff Stone again, ever.
“Right,” there’s silence and then I ask, “so Stephanie…is she here right now?”
He nods and I groan inwardly. “I think she likes me.”
Gosh, he’s adorable, if it wouldn’t be the most awkward thing to do in the entire universe, I’d squish his cheeks.
“Or, you just might have a habit of thinking that girls like you when they actually like me.” Cole waltzes in and wraps an arm possessively around my waist. He couldn’t have been more obvious if he had peed on me.
I elbow him subtly, or, well, not so subtly, since he yelps. “Well, I think Harvard Stephanie sounds great! And you should spend less time out here with us and go help her bake cookies.”
“Is that a euphemism?”
“No, you perv, look, he’s holding a plate of cookies.”
“Which I’m going to peacefully hand over to you, Tessa, without coming remotely close.” Jay looks at Cole nervously, thrusts the plate into my hands, and walks away quickly.
“Did you threaten him?” I say in a hushed voice. God forbid his parents are actually home and watch me destroy their home by making their sons fight.
“No.” Cole makes a sound at the back of his throat.
I glare at him until he succumbs to my withering stare.
“Okay, fine, maybe I did. But the threat has always been there, I just gave him a refresher a couple of hours ago because he seemed a little too happy with the fact that I was taking Stephanie and not you to the gala. He’s an opportunistic asshole.”
“But why’d you speak to him like that now? He’s baking cookies with Stephanie!” I throw my hands in the air.
“Like I said, opportunistic asshole.”
“Ugh! I can’t deal with this.” Throwing my hands in the air again for added effect, I march up the stairs and hear Cole quickly following me. Placing his hand at the small of my back, he leans in and whispers.
“While I’m not into bondage and whips, I’m all up for you finding healthy outlets to let out the aggression you’re feeling right now.” His warm breath heats up the back of my neck.
“Wonderful.” I grit my teeth and try not to let myself be swayed by how smooth he is. Turning toward him I put on my best sexy voice before continuing, “I’m in the mood for a long, long, long night of…” his Adam’s apple bobs, “talking. Let’s talk about our emotions and feelings, and let’s get you in touch with that feminine side of yours. How about that, babe, does making lists get you hot and bothered?”
I grin as he lunges for me and throws me over his shoulder. So maybe talking isn’t all that we’ll be doing tonight.
***
The next morning finds me downstairs before anyone else is up. In Cole’s t-shirt and boxer shorts, I can only hope that I don’t run into any other Stones because I’m still not entirely comfortable with the morning-after routine in your boyfriend’s parents’ house. But my head is killing me, and despite Cole forcing Advil and water down my throat, I’ve still woken up with the mother of all headaches and a parched throat. I pour myself a tall glass of ice-cold water and begin to chug it down, only to douse the front of my shirt with half the glass when Cassandra walks in behind me and nearly gives me a heart attack. Good thing she’s a doctor.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Tessa, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
I cough as the water goes down the wrong way and nearly wheeze at her. “No, no, it’s okay. I’m just extra jumpy today, I guess.” I dab the front of my shirt with some kitchen paper towels as she watches me with concern.
“Hangover?” Cassandra asks, and I want nothing but to disappear, melt into the marbled floor and never relive this moment ever again.
“Just a little bit,” I mutter.
She smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Why don’t you grab some eggs from the fridge and we’ll whip up the best hangover cure you’ve ever had.”
We begin to work together quietly, but my heart sinks because even though she’s being really nice to me, this isn’t the Cassandra that I’ve come to know as a mother. She’s always rooted for me, always been on my side, even when I’d been clueless about Cole’s feelings. She’s played such a huge role in bringing us together and keeping us together that I can’t handle feeling like she’s about to break up with me.
As we eat our breakfast outside on the patio, I try to apologize for last night but she waves it off.
“James and I,” she says, referring to her husband, “we found out what happened, what those girls did. I don’t blame you, especially since it would be hypocritical of me. I’ve had my own share of altercations with drunk groupies. That’s not the problem here, but I do know that you’ve realized that there is a problem.”
My food turns to sawdust in my mouth and I push my plate away, the urge to throw up now stronger than ever before.
“Yes, I have, and Cassandra, I am so sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you and your family. With the gala being so important and the board members not wanting me there, I really can’t tell you how embarrassed I am. I never wanted the issues that my family has to impose on yours like this.”
She places an assuring hand on top of mine. “Please, Tessa, you don’t need to tell me any of that. I would never punish you for the mistakes your parents made. We’re all adults here, I’m not going to preach or judge anyone, that’s none of my business.”
“But?”
She takes a deep breath. “But, and I hope you’re able to see it from my perspective as Cole’s mother before getting too upset.”
My chest feels heavy, like someone’s placed an anchor on it, and my throat is clogging up.
“When you two got together, my reasons for pushing for that to happen weren’t purely unselfish. Part of me thought that if Cole finally got the girl of his dreams, my family would become stronger. He’d get along better with his dad because he wouldn’t be agonizing over you all the time and that he and Jason would be able to become f
riends again.”
“And that hasn’t happened.”
She shrugs. “I’m not blaming you. Those boys have their own share of problems they need to sort out. My real concern here is Cole, and the fact is that despite you two being together, I honestly don’t think he’s any happier for it.”
She might as well have shot me, that’s what the sudden pressure feels like. It feels like someone’s got their fist around my heart and is squeezing it tightly. I’m dumfounded, at an absolute loss for words.
“You don’t think he’s happy with me?” I whisper.
She shakes her head. “I think his happiness is tethered to yours. He’s happy only when you are, sad when you are, he hurts when you do.”
“And the feeling is mutual,” I insist, “it’s the same for me. Why is that a problem?”
“Because that’s not normal.” Her tone is warm but firm. “Your first year of college is supposed to be fun, wild, scary, and an opportunity for you to really discover who you are. All I’ve heard from you two is more of the same drama that’s followed you all through high school. You’re struggling to deal with Cole’s position in the school, and he hates himself for it. We just found out he told Dick he didn’t need his services anymore. I know he’s beating himself up over dragging you into the limelight when it’s the last thing you need.”
“But Cassandra, I’ve told him repeatedly that he shouldn’t blame himself. My insecurities, my issues, family drama, that’s all me. I don’t want him to hurt over me.”
“But he does, and you know he’s not going to listen to you. The two of you are connected too deeply, and right now neither of you is in a good place. I hoped I wouldn’t have to have this talk with you. But after yesterday…Tessa, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t think you’re making Cole happy right now. He’s too obsessed with making sure you never hurt to put himself first, and I think he might resent you for it later in life.”
I suck in a breath but it’s pointless. I can’t breathe, my breath comes out in short pants, like my lungs are seizing up. Gripping the tabletop, I try my best to prevent the oncoming anxiety attack but it’s no use. There’s a whooshing sound in my ears as I squeeze my eyes shut and trap the desperate need to cry.
“Mom, what the hell did you do to her?”
My savior, my hero, always worried about me, always trying to rescue me.
Chapter Eleven: If Denial Was an Academy Award, I’d Be Meryl Streep
My first instinct is to run away, run to the safety of my bedroom and cocoon myself in my cozy blankets while pretending that the last ten minutes never happened. But that’s not the best option here, not when Cole looks like he’s about to murder someone, and the woman directly under attack is the closest thing he has to a mother. I need to fix this and fix this immediately because Cassandra’s words refuse to leave my head. Maybe they’ve lodged themselves there permanently because whether she meant it or not, Cassandra has managed to shift something crucial inside of me. If her intention was to make me question my entire life, then she’s done it. There’s a whirlwind of emotion swirling inside me, but I know that I can’t be rash. Whatever I’m thinking, whatever survival instinct I have right now needs to be crushed because I cannot and will not ruin Cole’s relationship with his mother.
Standing up from the table and ignoring a crestfallen and fatigued Cassandra, I cross over to Cole, who seems to be studying me for physical proof of the damage that’s been done. I wonder if the soul could reflect on the outside the amount of hurt it has experienced. Because it is ironic that surface wounds that you probably forget about after a day or two leave you with scars for a lifetime, but the actual pain, the terrible kind that haunts you forever, can’t be seen by anyone, not even yourself. If I try to picture what my insides look like right now, well, judging by the hurt that I’m experiencing, I’d say someone just doused me with gasoline and set me on fire.
“It’s okay, we were just talking.” I take his hands in mine and he shoots me a disbelieving look, like how could I dare lie to him.
“You’re crying,” he tells me gruffly. Tears I didn’t realize were there wet my skin as he uses his thumb to wipe them off.
“I don’t think you’ll blame me for not believing you when you tell me that you were just talking.” He glares at Cassandra and I cup his cheek, forcing him to look at me.
“Don’t be upset, we weren’t—”
“Maybe you and Tessa should talk privately.” Cassandra walks over to us and gives me a sympathetic look. I realize that she’s not a bad person and that her problem isn’t with me as a person. She’s just a parent looking out for her child, and she seems to think that Cole and I aren’t a good fit. She’s being protective of her family and I understand that, but what stings is how easily she’s removed me from the equation. Maybe I’m being overly presumptuous, but the Stones have always made me feel like family, and to be told that I’m part of the reason why the family is struggling and that I need to distance myself in order for them to retain their ties.
Jesus, homemaker I am not.
“Tell me what you said to her.”
It’s a testament of how firmly Cassandra believes in her stance that she doesn’t even flinch at the bone-chilling tone of Cole’s voice.
“I told her what I told you yesterday after we realized you’d let go of your lawyer and what I said when we talked about the…other issue. I don’t think the two of you are at a place in your lives right now where you need to be so invested in another person. Maybe you can’t see it, but the rest of us can. No one is happy here, and I’d like to see my son happy, you too, Tessa, whether or not you believe me. I won’t get anything out of being the bad person here, but I want what’s best for both of you, and sometimes it is best to step away when the time is right rather than regret your choices when it’s too late.”
With that cryptic prophecy she leaves us, shutting the door to the patio firmly behind her, letting us know that she wants us to talk it out.
I drop Cole’s hands and move away, wrapping my arms around myself because suddenly I’m shivering.
“You knew?”
He flinches but stays quiet.
“H-how long has she felt this way? I can’t believe you let me walk around her house when she doesn’t even want me here in the first place. I feel so stupid, god, I’ve been acting like this is one big family reunion when all this time she’s been planning on telling me that…that we need to…”
Something the size of a golf ball lodges itself in my throat and I can’t get the next words out. Cole wraps his arms around me and pulls me to his chest.
“Listen to me, you more than any other person in the world are what I consider family.”
I try to interrupt him but he continues, “You know me, Tessie, you know the parts of me I’m terrified to show anyone else. Cassandra, my dad, Jay, they mean a lot to me, but I’ve never let myself,” he takes a deep breath before continuing, “I’ve never let myself be vulnerable in front of any of them. For the longest time I’ve felt like the only person I can rely on is myself, that I’m all I’ve got and that’s it. My parents…they’ve tried their best to love me even when I haven’t given them any reason to, but the fear of rejection has always been there. I’m a screwup, was a screwup,” he corrects himself when he sees that I’m about to deny what he’s said about himself, “I don’t think I’ll ever fully let them in, because I’ve seen how bad things get in this house when I do that.”
“Cole,” I whisper, my heart hurting so much for him.
“And with you, there’s nothing I’ve ever had to hide. You’ve seen me at my lowest, at fucking rock bottom, and you came back to me. Do you even realize what that means to me?” He pleads, “If there’s even a shadow of a doubt in your mind about us after what Cassandra has said to you, just know this; there will never be another person for me who I love as much as I love you, who I trust with my life. I’ve always thought that the only person I could ever trust to have my back
is myself, but you made me realize that I don’t always have to be in control and that there are other people, there’s you who’s watching out for me.”
And then the dam breaks because there’s no way I can stop my tears now. Wrapping myself around Cole, I let the sobs break free because there’s only so much emotion a girl can take. I’m not thinking about the future; I’m not making any decisions. There’s no contingency plan here, but all I know is that if the panic in Cole’s eyes mirrors anything that I’m feeling right now, then it’s up to me to prioritize our relationship over anything else. Yes, I may have lost the support someone who I thought loved me, but the most important person in my life is standing right in front of me, breaking apart at the seams, and I owe it to him to not let anyone intrude on what we have. It is not my responsibility to explain our connection to a third person; they can judge all they want. What matters is how we feel, our love and the intense bond that we’ve always seemed to share.
“Don’t listen to her,” Cole begs.
And for that moment, I shut down every single part of me that’s trying to drudge up old demons, the skeletons in my closet that force me to question myself on a daily basis, because if there’s ever been a single universal truth in my life, it’s that I love this boy more than I could ever love myself.
***
I’m not a woman of many talents, or any, for that matter. I can’t draw to save my life; my music teachers would give up after a week or two of trying to unearth some musical gift they thought I’d been born with, and, well, if I’d be into sports of any sort, I wouldn’t have been known as Fatty Tessie. So worldly talents are a no-go; yes, I’m decent at dance and writing, but you know what else I’m good at? Like really great at? Avoidance. If denial was an Oscar award, I’d be Meryl Streep.
If there’s something that requires me to pay a lot of attention, you can bet your savings account that I will avoid the subject unless I really, truly have no other option left. So when your boyfriend’s stepmother chews you up and spits you out like a wad of gum, the only option left is to pretend that it never happened. Once I ran from their house like it’d caught fire, I haven’t been back. No offense to Cassandra, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at her the same way ever again. She might have had Cole’s best interest at heart, but I do not appreciate being ambushed.
