“About an hour. I’m really tired though.” She yawns. It happens like that a lot. She’ll seem okay, but then her body can hardly stay awake any longer.
“I’ll put you to bed.”
“I’m okay. I want to visit with you.”
“It’s okay. I need to go to work anyway. I just wanted to stop in and see how you’re doing.” At my fake job. Fast food won’t bring in the kind of money and flexibility I need to be here for her. Hospice might take care of the fact that she’s dying, but that’s not all there is to worry about.
“If you’re sure.” She yawns again. I stand, about to push her into the other room, but she stops me. “I feel like walking. Can you help me walk?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, pain lancing through me. How f**ked up his this? She’s thirty-eight years-old. She shouldn’t need my help walking to her bedroom. “Absolutely.”
She leans on me as I help lift her from the chair. Her arm wraps around me loosely, so I hold her tight to make sure she doesn’t fall. It takes four minutes to make a thirty second walk, but soon we make it to her bedroom. To the hospital bed in her room. I help her sit down, but when I try to take the robe off, she stops me. “I like to wear it. It makes me feel close to you.”
I bite my tongue. Shit, this is hard. “That’s what all the ladies say.” I wink at her before making sure she can lay down okay. Pulling the covers up, I give her another kiss on the head. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
She doesn’t answer and I know it’s because she’s worn out. My hands are begging to hit something. To do something, anything to try and make the pain inside go away.
When I get to her bedroom door, I hear a creaked, “Colton?”
Turing back, I look at her. “You can do anything in the world. I’ve always known that. Don’t forget it.”
My insides shatter. I’m definitely not who she thinks I am and I’m not even sure I want to be. Luckily, I don’t have to answer her, because that quickly, she’s out.
***
There’s a different smell permeating the next house I walk into: alcohol, weed, and who knows what else. Music thumps so loud the walls vibrate.
“’Sup, man?” Adrian nods his head at me. He’s leaning against the wall with a girl kissing his neck.
“Havin’ fun?” I smile at him, knowing he’s not going to be in the living room with this chick much longer. They’ll find a room, closet, car or something soon. Not that I blame him.
“You know it,” Adrian replies and I keep walking.
When I left home, all I wanted was to be alone, but stepping into our packed, shitty, little house I know this is exactly what I need. Distraction. Probably the same kind Adrian’s getting.
I head straight for my secret stash, locked in my closet, grab the bottle of Tequila and take it with me. Space opens up on the couch as soon as I walk back into the room, so I take it, putting the bottle to my lips and gulping some down at the same time.
It isn’t two minutes later I feel someone sit beside me. “Hey, Colt.”
Still leaning against the back of the couch, I turn my head to look at Deena. I knew it would be her. Her black hair’s pulled back. She’s wearing all kinds of makeup, but I don’t care about any of that. She’s exactly what I want right now.
“Wha’cha doin’?” I ask.
“Looking for you.” She pulls her bottom lip into her mouth and I know it’s a game. I’m okay with it being one too. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Then what are you doing way over there?” I don’t move. Don’t have to.
Deena doesn’t have to be asked twice. She climbs onto my lap and her mouth comes down on mine. Screw the tequila. Screw everything else. I grab her, taking the kiss over and fighting to forget everything else.
It doesn’t work, but I find a way to pretend.
~CHAPTER THREE~
Cheyenne
I can’t believe how much it sucks to walk across campus alone. I feel like a loser, like everyone knows, even though they probably don’t. Yet. The school’s not that huge, so it’s bound to get around soon.
My phone buzzes. Seeing its Gregory for the ten millionth time, I hit ignore. Does he really think I’m going to talk to him? That after one day I’m ready to hear more of his excuses? Obviously he doesn’t know me at all. Did I ever give him a chance to really know me?
I have a sudden huge craving for caffeine. Nothing makes things better like an iced, skinny caramel macchiato. I pick up my phone to call someone and realize I have no one to go get coffee with me. No one. I haven’t really had the chance to get to know many of the girls here. The ones I do know are the people Gregory introduced me to—girls in his sister sorority and girlfriends of his frat brothers. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to let this happen to me.
My heart starts to beat faster. I breathe deep to try and calm it.
It doesn’t take long to get to the coffee house and order. I sit in the corner, trying to work through my mess of a life. Gregory’s words bounce around in my brain. No one’s going to go after you. They know you’re mine.
I hate that he’s right. Need him to be wrong.
How the hell do I do that alone though? Ugh. I don’t want to date. Just the thought of the smiley, get-to-know-you phase makes me want to puke. And dating here at school isn’t going to be easy, considering everyone seems to be friends with Gregory, or at least know who he is.
Gregory.
A moment of hurt sneaks its way into my heart. I don’t want to miss the idea of him. The idea wasn’t real. I don’t even know if I loved Gregory. Yeah, we said it, but did I really love him? Love, on principle, scares the hell out of me. I haven’t let myself love someone in…
“You can’t go where Mommy’s going.”
I squeeze my eyes shut as though that will quiet Mom’s voice in my brain.
I might not have loved Gregory, but I thought we would be together forever. I thought we’d be happy together. Now, I know I wasn’t the only one with secrets. At least mine didn’t consist of being with someone else.
And why does every thought in my brain have to go back to Gregory? I’m a nineteen-year-old college girl. I should be living it up. Enjoying my independence and...singleness.
I sit up straighter. I might feel like crap inside, but I’m not about to show it.
I look around. None of the guys who walk in the coffee shop are Cheyenne material. And why am I looking at guys anyway? Because I made it look like someone’s been hitting on me. Or maybe I just want to show him, people will look at me.
The door opens. Oh my God. I duck down in my seat. What are you doing, Cheyenne. Sit tall, be proud. You’re better than this.
Only I can’t make myself do it.
I gave him two years and he doesn’t care?
He called me half an hour ago yet here he is with Red on his arm.
Two years.
Oh God. My chest hurts. My breaths come out faster and my vision becomes blurry.
This can’t be happening to me.
I fight to slow my breathing—find something to concentrate on, keeping my eyes anywhere except on Gregory. There’s a little menu with their specials and I read it—the same thing over and over just to give myself something to focus on. The coffee shop gets kind of quiet. An eerie feeling settles over me, and I swear I hear whispers.
I look up, hating myself for not having more self-control. I immediately wish I hadn’t peeked.
I glance over again, see Gregory say something to Red, kiss her and then run outside. I’m pretty sure Gregory didn’t see me, but the fact that Red is walking over tells me she did. It’s strange, the conflicting emotions warring inside me. There’s the tough Chey. The one I’ve worked to become who wants to get up and give her hell, but the weak girl—the one who hid in rooms at the parties and cried when Mom was gone who wants to freak out.
“He feels sorry for you, you know?” Red crosses her arms.
“And I feel sorry for you, if you believe that.” I roll my eyes at her.
“We’ve been together since last year. I knew about you. I also know your families are friends. That Gregory took you under his wing, and now he feels some stupid sense of obligation to you. That’s all it is. I know it. He knows it and now you know it too.”
Her words hit all of my buttons. I feel used. I was an obligation to Mom, then to Lily and Mark, and now Gregory too? And with him, he doesn’t even know everything about me. No! “Did you ever think he said that to get in your pants? I mean, not that it was obviously very hard for him to get there.”
Her face turns as red as her hair. “Screw you. I feel sorry for you, thinking all this time he really still wanted to be with you. I know what it really is. He wants me. Now you can live with that. If you’ll excuse me, my boyfriend should be back any second. He just went to get something out of the car.”
She turns and walks away. I push to get up and find a way to defend myself, but Gregory’s voice breaks through. He’s standing by the door, obviously having walked back in.
“Watch where you’re going!” Gregory says.
Gregory’s standing straight, trying to make himself look tall and Red steps up to his side. Another guy stands in front of him. He has dark blond, clouds-over-sunset colored hair. It’s messy, like he hasn’t combed it all day and he’s a good four inches taller than Gregory. His pants are wrinkled and there’s a hole in the knee. I can tell it’s from wear and not jeans that you buy to look like that.
A black t-shirt stretches across his chest and all the way down his right arm are tattoos. Like, so many of them I can’t even see his skin.
Tattoo Guy laughs. I see the tightness in Gregory’s face. I wonder if Red knows it. If she knows him well enough to read what his look is saying. He’s pissed that this guy would laugh at him, and embarrassed, too.
Tattoo Guy turns away, shaking his head, but Gregory grabs his arm. He doesn’t like to be made a fool of and I’m sure he needs to show off for his new girl. Not smart. I’ve never known Gregory to get in a fight and this guy looks like he does it often.