FLAME (Spark Series) Page 15

  I laugh at him. I imagine his mother’s persistent voice begging him to tell her all the juicy gossip. It reminds me of Laney and when we were younger. We always knew when the other one was hiding something. If it was good gossip, we’d spill and gush about it all night. If it was parent issues, we knew to stay quiet. After a while, it all just seemed similar and hardly surprising.

  “Well, that’s kind of cute. I’ve never talked to a mom before. You think she noticed?”

  He laughs and says, “Probably. She notices everything.”

  After the phone conversation with his mother, our relationship somehow seemed more intimate. It wasn’t exactly the “meet my mother” route typical relationships have, but it was surprisingly nice.

  * * *

  A couple more weeks pass, and I offer to help him start packing. Although he has another month until he leaves, he’s accumulated a lot more stuff over the years being here. I try to stay numb and push my emotions back as I tape up boxes. I pretend it’s not happening so I can keep my game face on.

  “How are you getting this all home?” I ask, looking around at all his belongings.

  “There’s a student abroad traveling service that helps us with shipping things back over. Packing is the easy part. It’s going to be getting it all home and unpacked that’s gonna suck arse.”

  I nod as he explains. I really hate talking about his “home” but I know it’s inevitable. Perhaps it’s the fact that it’s getting closer, and I have yet to really accept it.

  “So, what can I help with? What can be packed up?” I stand, ready to help.

  He points to his desk. “You can start there. Most of what’s in it I don’t need for class anymore—old notebooks and such.”

  I grab a box and stagger to the chair. He has binders stacked on top with old textbooks and notebooks. So they will fit snug in the boxes, I organize them nicely. I look through the notebooks and smile as I see all his notes from all the classes he’s taken over the past four years.

  “Hmm…I could study all these and save myself four years worth of college.” I laugh, flipping through the pages.

  “That’s if you can read the handwriting,” he teases.

  I shrug casually. “I’m sure I could decipher it.”

  Once the top of his desk is cleared, I move to the drawers. It’s mostly pens and pencils, highlighters and notecards. In the bottom drawer, he has tons of filled out notecards all with his handwriting.

  “You write on notecards?” I ask, stunned.

  “Yeah, study habit of choice. I’m a visual learner and it helps to write it down first. Helped me learn faster.”

  “Hm…good idea.”

  I collect them and put them into large sandwich bags so they won’t scatter. I’m not sure why he wants to save all this, or why he has for all these years, but I pack them anyway. I’m sure if I were in college or had any college experience, I’d understand the concept, so I just go with whatever he asks me to do.

  The top drawer is different, however. There are envelopes stacked with a rubber band around them. I figure they must be from a friend back home or perhaps family, but then why not just email? Or call?

  I look around and notice Drew has left. He must be using the bathroom or taking a food break. I know I shouldn’t snoop, but I can’t help myself. I undo the rubber band and begin digging.

  The return address is from a Sarah Jayne in London. A girl? I know it’s not his sister, so I flip it over and grab the letter that’s inside.

  My eyes quickly search for any major keywords, not wanting to take the time to read it word for word just incase Drew walks back in.

  I love you.

  I’m waiting for you.

  I’ll never want anyone else.

  I blink over and over. Who the hell is she?

  I put it back in the envelope and dig through the rest. They basically all say the same thing.

  I haven’t forgotten about you.

  Please come back to me.

  I love you always.

  I can’t tell if he’s ever written back, as she never specifies she received his letter or not. She never says I love you, too. She’s starting to sound like a major stalker.

  I put all the letters back in the envelopes and wrap the band back around. I’m sure she’s just an ex-girlfriend, but why has he never mentioned an ex? I know we haven’t gotten into much detail about our past relationships, but you’d think if she was an important person in his life, he would’ve at least talked about her one time or another.

  I continue packing everything in his desk, but decide to leave the stack of letters out. I won’t be able to pretend nothing’s bothering me, so I’ll casually ask him about her.

  He walks in soon with two plates filled with food and two sodas shoved in his pockets. He places everything on the bed and motions for me to sit down next to him.

  “Who’s Sarah?” I blurt out.

  So much for casual.

  “Huh?” His expression is a mixture of shock and confusion.

  “Is she an ex-girlfriend or something?” I continue asking.

  “Um…she was a girlfriend, yes.”

  I fidget with my hands, which are sitting in my lap, as I continue interrogating him. “You’ve never mentioned her before.”

  I watch him intently as he swallows before responding. “I know. It never really came up.” He shrugs as if it’s no big deal.

  “It never came up?” I bark. “It never came up that you have an ex-girlfriend writing you love letters?”

  “We’ve never talked about our exes, Carissa. You never seemed to want to talk about our pasts, so I thought it was an off-topic conversation.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” It’s the first time I’ve raised my voice at him, fury and rage overcoming me. “I read them,” I say honestly. “I know it’s an invasion of privacy and probably a trust issue I have with men, but I read them. I read how she’s waiting for you and still loves you and wants you back. I think that’s pretty significant information to tell your current girlfriend, don’t you?”

  “You shouldn’t have read them,” is all he says. His expression is giving me nothing but fear and anger.

  “Well, you should’ve told me. I mean…is it true? Is she waiting for you? Was I…was I just a filler for you until you went back home to Sarah? Come on, Drew, tell me. Was I just a convenient piece of ass?”

  “That’s not fair, Carissa. You’ve told me nothing of your past! I never expected to meet someone like you.”

  “Not fair?” I shout. “You want to know? Fine. His name was Damon. I was a freshman, and he was my first and only boyfriend in high school. I thought I was in love with him. I followed him around like a lovesick puppy. And then one day, I wasn’t good enough for him. So he broke up with me in front of the entire school. Broke my fucking heart. He destroyed me. And apparently, I’ve never recovered. So there. You happy? That’s my pathetic little story.”

  He stands, holding a hand out in comfort. I back away, not wanting him close. I stand up and put the chair in between us. I don’t want his comfort or his bullshit excuses. I just want to leave. Now.

  “Carissa…you don’t open up very well,” he fires back. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured to tell me anything after sharing something personal with you.”

  “That’s your excuse? Really?” I bolt for the door.

  “Carissa, wait!” I turn around to him facing me.

  “Let me make this easy for you, so you can return home to your little girlfriend guilt-free.” I walk out the door without glancing back. I don’t hear his footsteps, so I know he’s not following me.

  And I’m not sure which pisses me off more—the fact that he isn’t or the fact that I want him to.

  17

  “You walked out?” Julia harasses me.

  “What would you expect me to do?” I ask, washing down the beer-spilled bar. “Get on my hands and knees begging him to pick me? Psh.”

  “Hey, whatever you do
on your hands and knees is your business,” she retorts. I flash her an annoyed look and she laughs. “It’s not like he’s still seeing her. I mean, it’s been what? Four years? I bet if you’d let him explain, he would’ve told you he doesn’t even have feelings for her anymore.”

  I roll my eyes. “Well, he didn’t. He didn’t say that. All he said was I don’t open up to him and it wasn’t fair I read them and blah blah. He wasn’t very convincing in that he wasn’t going right back to her.” I stop cleaning for a moment. “In fact, he didn’t say anything about not going back to her. So for all I know, he is.”

  “This is a new side of Carissa I’m not sure I know how to handle,” she teases. “You actually care. I think you love him.”

  I sip my diet coke just as she speaks, making me spit the liquid out as she says the word love.

  “Hm…that sure got a reaction out of you.” She grins.

  “I don’t even know what love is, Julia. For all I know, this was just a temporary affair. Apparently, it was much less serious than I thought. It just sucks I spent all those months with him. All those months I could’ve spent carelessly fucking other men.” My guard is up and it shows. I don’t like hurting, and I’m doing anything that numbs the pain. But even this, I know, isn’t true. I don’t want to be fucking other men. I only want Drew.

  “I know you’re vulnerable right now, Riss. But look at it this way. You finally know what love feels like. You aren’t broken like you’ve believed all these years. Deep down, you’re a good person, and you have a good heart.”

  “Are you trying to make a move on me?”

  “Shut up! It’s okay to let your guard down. Not everything has to be responded to with a sarcastic remark.”

  I roll my eyes. “It’s how I deal.”

  “And I get that, I really do. But you haven’t slept with any other guy in what…six or seven months? That has to be some kind of Carissa record.”

  “And where has it gotten me, Julia? A broken heart and a more damaged soul?”

  “You aren’t damaged. But is it worth letting him go before he leaves for good? You still have a month left. Go to him. Spend the remaining time you have with him before it’s too late and you regret it.”

  I sigh. “I hate when you’re right.”

  I haven’t spoken to Drew in three days. He’s called and even stopped by, but I pretended to be unavailable. I don’t know how to deal with what I’m feeling. The only thing he’s done is fail to mention an ex-girlfriend who’s apparently waiting for him. Should this be a big deal? It’s not like we were going to do a long distance relationship or anything. I knew it was ending. But perhaps, that’s the real issue.

  I decide to call Laney, needing my best friend’s advice right now. And although she’s pregnant and still in her honeymoon phase, she never refuses to take my calls.

  “So, how are the lovebirds doing?”

  “We’re great, thank you,” she answers all giddy. “Eric took me to the state fair and on a Ferris wheel. I indulged in a real chili cheese dog and cotton candy.”

  “Wow. Sounds like you’re starting to fit right in. Are you wearing cowgirl boots and a hat, too?” I tease.

  She laughs with me. “Just the boots. No hat. It doesn’t work with my hair.”

  “Ha! Good to know you’re doing your hair still. I figured you’d have permanent sex bed hair.”

  We laugh as we tease one another and it makes me feel relieved. Velaney has a way of bringing me right back to Earth—right where I need to be.

  “So it’s dish time. What’s the scoop with Drew?” she finally asks.

  “Are you sure you’re ready?”

  “Lay it on me.”

  I tell her everything. I don’t hold anything back. I even tell her how I think I overreacted and how I don’t know how to fix it—or myself for that matter.

  “Well…um…”

  “I know. I’m fucked up, right?” I huff.

  “I just never imagined you having this issue. I’m like a proud mama.”

  “I’m glad my heartache is amusing to you, but—”

  “Oh relax, Riss. This is not a big deal. He obviously wants to talk to you. Just let him. Let him explain anything he needs to explain. Just listen. And enjoy the next few weeks of endless mind-blowing sex.”

  I chuckle at the fact that I’m the one getting relationship advice from Laney. This is so unlike us.

  “Okay, Mrs. Know-it-all. And what about after he leaves?”

  “Well, then you fly your cute ass down here and veg out with me. We’ll watch dirty inappropriate movies, and you can drink margaritas while I drink apple juice and sprite.”

  “And that’s suppose to help my broken heart how?” I chuckle because it’s so cute she’s trying.

  She sighs, and for the first time in this conversation, I can tell she’s being genuine. “Riss, I wish I was there. I know how hard it’s going to hurt, and my heart aches just thinking about it. The only advice I really have for you is to just go to him. Enjoy the rest of the time you have with him.”

  She’s right. I know she’s right. I thank her for the chat and hang up so I can sob in private. The hardest part of all this is letting him back in just to watch him leave. Can I do that? I have to…if I want these few short weeks with him, I do.

  * * *

  I work another shift, needing to clear my head before I confess my insecurities to Drew. I miss him. I really miss him. And not just the sex. His perfect blue eyes and baby face. His messy dark blond hair. But most of all, I miss how he makes me feel—the way he makes me feel like I’m the most important person in the world.

  “So, sweetheart, what’s on your mind tonight?” Roger, a regular at the bar, asks me.

  “Only you, Roger. Always you.” I wink, handing him another bottle.

  He laughs deeply. “This is why you’re my favorite.”

  “This is why you always get top shelf liquor.” I wink.

  “Alright, so tell me what’s really on your mind.”

  “I hate that you think you know me.” I scowl.

  “I do know you, sweetheart. I watch you work every night.”

  “That’s borderline creepy, Roger.” I laugh.

  “Hey, you give me a good reason to creep.”

  I continue with my shift, laughing and joking with the customers and Julia and Kenna. I finally feel better, getting things off my mind.

  I didn’t have a lot of accomplishments growing up. There wasn’t anyone to impress; however, the one thing I was good at was spelling. When I hid in my room from my parents, I’d read. Some days, I wouldn’t have any books, so I’d read the dictionary. I got really good at blocking out the screaming and sex moans when I dug my head in a book. It took my mind off my own horrible life. Even if it was just temporary, the books gave me hope. They made me feel happy for just a moment, which was better than never feeling happy at all.

  I had won my class spelling bee tournament in seventh grade. Velaney helped me study for the school-wide spelling bee every night. We’d talk on the phone and she’d quiz me all night long.

  The day of the tournament, I wore my best dress. It was a size too small since my mother hadn’t bothered to buy me more, but I made it work. Laney brought me a pair of shoes and a headband to match. I was so excited. It was my time to shine.

  I told my parents every night for two weeks about the event. It was a Friday afternoon and they both promised to take off work.

  As I walked on stage with my number pinned to my shirt, I held my head high with confidence and determination. I was going to own this.

  I was up against twelve other students. They were all the top spellers of their classrooms, making it a much more challenging competition.

  The gymnasium was packed. All the students were invited to attend along with all the competitors’ parents. As my name was called, I stood up and walked to the microphone waiting for my first word. I couldn’t help my eyes gazing over the crowd, looking for my parents. My eyes made conta
ct with Laney as she put two thumbs up in my direction.

  I smiled and listened as I was told which word to spell. I breezed through the first round without a glitch. I continued looking over the crowd, still not seeing my parents.

  I tapped my foot nervously, wondering where they were. They promised!

  By the time there were only three of us left, they still hadn’t shown up. My heart sank at the realization, filling with sadness and anger. Should I really be surprised?

  I’d lived with disappointment my entire life. Disappointment in myself…in others…in anyone who let me down. I’d never relied on anyone because of this. Laney was the only person who hadn’t disappointed me. She’s the only one I’d ever fully trusted. But even so, was it a good enough excuse to push everyone else away? Everyone who worked to make their way in, and I just pushed them out?

  “Carissa! Riss, wake up!”

  My eyes flutter open, and I soon realize I’m lying on the bar floor. Gross.

  “What the hell happened?” I ask Julia and Kenna who are kneeling over me.

  “You passed out.”

  “Or blacked out.”

  “You hit your head pretty hard. You should go get checked out,” Julia recommends. I don’t feel pain, well physical pain at least. But I nod in agreement.

  Three hours and two scans later, I’m back home. No damage or explanation as to why I’m blacking out. That’s the second time this year it’s happened, and now there’s no explanation.

  The doctor pegs it as stress-related. I explain to him what happens when I blackout, that I immediately re-live some past traumatic experience. He recommends I see a therapist to deal with my stress issues.

  Stress issues? How about trust issues, hating my parents issues, never feeling loved issues? Is there a special pill for that?

  I decide to do some research of my own. There has to be some explanation. Post-traumatic stress disorder? Or do I just hold in so much rage and hate that my body literally passes out from it all?

  Whatever the hell it is, I don’t want to live like this anymore. I don’t want to continue living like an empty shell. Even though I only have three weeks left with Drew, I want those weeks. Whatever happened before we met, or whatever happens after he leaves, doesn’t matter. Nothing should matter but what we have now.