Beautiful Oblivion (30 page)

“Yes, but I don’t even think he knows why he sent them. Let’s just . . .” I reached for him, but he pulled away. “Let’s just forget about them,” I said, gesturing dismissively toward the roses, “and have a good time tonight.” Trenton shoved his hands in his pockets, his lips pressed together in a hard line. “Please?” I begged.

“He sent them to fuck with your head. And mine.”

“No,” I said, “he wouldn’t do that.”

“Don’t defend him! This is bullshit!” he said as he turned for the door, and then turned back to face me. “I’ve been sitting at work this whole time, staring at those fucking things. I wanted to calm down before I got here, but this is just . . . it’s fucking disrespectful, is what it is! I bust my ass trying to prove to you that I’m better for you than he ever was. But he keeps pulling this shit, and showing up, and . . . I can’t compete with some rich college boy from California. I’m barely getting by, with no degree, and up until a few days ago I still lived with my dad. But I am so fucking in love you, Cami,” he said, reaching for me. “I have been since we were kids. The first time I saw you on the playground, I knew what beauty was. The first time you ignored me was my first broken heart. I thought I was playing this right, from the moment I sat down at your table at the Red. No one has ever wanted someone as much as I want you. For
years
I . . .” He was breathing hard, and he clenched his jaw. “When I heard about your dad, I wanted to rescue you,” he said, chuckling, but not out of humor. “And that night at your apartment, I thought I’d finally gotten something right.” He pointed to the ground. “That my purpose in life was to love you and keep you safe . . . but I didn’t prepare for having to share you.”

I didn’t know if I could fix this. It was our first Valentine’s Day, and he was furious. But I knew those flowers had nothing to do with Trenton and everything to do with T.J. being miserable. He loved me, but we just couldn’t make it work. Trenton didn’t understand because any attempt at an explanation would lead to questions—questions I couldn’t answer. It was hard to be mad at either of them, and easy to be angry at myself for putting us all in this situation.

I walked into the kitchen, pulled out the trash can, picked up the vase, and let it fall straight to the bottom.

Trenton watched me with a grimace, and then his entire face softened. “You didn’t have to do that!”

I rushed over to him and wrapped my arms around his middle, pressing my cheek against his shoulder. Even when I wore heels, he was taller than me. “I don’t want those flowers.” I looked up at him. “I do, however, want
you
. You’re not the one I’m stuck with because I didn’t get my first choice. If you think you’re in love with two people, you pick the second one, right? Because if I really loved T.J., I couldn’t have fallen in love with you.”

Trenton looked down at me, his eyes heavy with sadness. “In theory,” he said, laughing once.

“I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. Every woman who’s met you wants a shot at you. How could you ever think you’re the consolation prize?”

Trenton touched my jaw with his palm, and then he walked away from me. “Goddammit! I ruined our whole night! I’m such a fuckin’ jerk, Cami! I was stressing because I wanted to get you flowers, but they’re all so damn expensive . . . and then that ridiculously gigantic bouquet shows up. I’m a dick. I’m an unreasonable, selfish, insecure dick who is so scared of losing you. It’s too hard to believe that you’re already mine.” His eyes were so sad, it broke my heart.

“Since we were kids? You never talked to me, though. I didn’t think you knew who I was.”

He laughed once. “You terrified me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “A Maddox boy? Afraid?”

His face compressed. “We’ve already lost the first woman we ever loved. The thought of going through that again scares the shit out of us.”

My eyes instantly filled with tears, and then spilled over. I gripped his shirt in my fists and pulled him against me, kissing him hard, and then I ran to my room, picked up the small sack and card, and returned to him. I held the sack in front of me.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Trenton blanched. “I am the biggest dickhole in the history of dickholes.”

“Why?”

“I was so worried about the flowers, I forgot your present at the shop.”

“It’s okay,” I said, waving him off. “This is not a big deal.”

He opened the card, read it, and looked up at me. “The card I got you is not this good.”

“Stop. Open your present,” I said, a little giddy.

He reached in, and pulled out something rolled in white tissue paper. He opened it up, and held out the T-shirt in front of him. Still holding it high, he poked his head around. “Your present isn’t this awesome, either.”

“It’s not awesome. It’s just a shirt.”

He flipped it around, pointing at the
Star Wars
font. “ ‘May the Schwartz Be with You’? This is the motherfucking pterodactyl of T-shirts!”

I blinked. “So . . . that’s a good thing?”

Someone knocked on the door, and Trenton and I jumped. I wiped my eyes while Trenton peeked out the peephole. He turned to me, clearly confused.

“It’s . . . it’s Kody.”

“Kody?” I asked, opening the door.

“Ray’s been trying to call you,” he said, upset. “She and Brazil got into it again. She needs a ride home. I was going to go get her, but she thinks it would go over better if you were there.”

“Shit,” I said, rushing to put on my coat.

“My truck’s running,” Kody said. “I’ll drive.”

I pointed at him. “Don’t start any shit.”

Kody held up his hands as I passed. We all piled into his truck and drove to the Sig Tau house.

Cars lined the street, and the house was decorated with red lights and strings adorned with beer cans and cutout hearts. Some people were milling about outside, but most were running from the street for the warmth of the house.

Trenton helped me down the four feet from Kody’s lifted truck, and we met Kody on the driver’s side. The bass from the music was thumping inside my chest, and it reminded me of the Red. Just as I began to take a step toward the house, Trenton held me back. He was staring at the space in front of Kody’s truck.

“Fuck me,” he said, his head jerking toward the house.

Travis’s Harley was parked in the street, and an empty, half-pint bottle of whiskey was lying next to it, held up by the crisp, dead grass.

A girl screamed, “Put me down, damn it!”

It was Abby, and she was hanging over Travis’s shoulder, beating the hell out of him with her fists, and kicking. He stomped over to a car and threw her into the backseat. After a short conversation with a guy in the driver’s seat, Travis crawled into the back with Abby.

“Should we . . . ?” I began, but Trenton shook his head.

“They have been back and forth like this for weeks. I do not want to get caught up in that disaster.”

The car pulled away, and we walked inside. The moment we stepped into the main room, people were staring and whispering to each other.

“Trent!” Shepley said, a wide smile on his face.

“I just saw Travis,” Trenton said, pointing behind him.

Shepley chuckled. “Yeah. They’re going to end up back together tonight.”

Trenton shook his head. “They’re nuts.”

Kody took a step. “We’re looking for Brazil and Raegan. Have you seen them?”

Shepley glanced around and then shrugged. “Not for a while.”

We searched downstairs, we searched the main floor, and then went upstairs. Kody didn’t miss a single room, or even the closets. When we got to the balcony, we found Brazil.

“Jason,” I said. He turned around. He nodded at Trenton, but gave Kody a once-over.

“This is a Sig Tau party, guys. Sorry, but you can’t stay.”

“I’m Sig Tau,” Trenton said.

“No offense, man, but not anymore.”

Kody turned his shoulder toward Brazil, clearly trying his hardest to keep from attacking him. “Where’s Ray?”

Brazil shook his head and looked down. Then he looked up at me. “I tried to make it work. I really tried this time. I just can’t do clingy.”

Kody leaned in closer, and Trenton put his hand on his chest. “She’s not clingy,” he said through his teeth. “You should feel grateful for the time she wants to spend with you.”

Brazil started to respond, but I held up my hand. “Jason, we’re not here to judge you.”

“Speak for yourself,” Kody growled.

I jerked my head toward his large frame. “You’re not helping. Shut up.”

“Do you know where she is?” Trenton asked. “We’re just here to take her home.”

He shook his head. “I haven’t seen her.”

We left Brazil alone, taking the stairs to the main floor. We walked outside, and Trenton hooked his arm around me to ward off the cold.

“What now?” Kody asked.

“Try to call her,” I said, shivering.

We walked back to the truck, and then froze when we saw Raegan sitting on the curb next to Kody’s back tire.

“Ray?” Kody said.

She stood up and turned around, holding up her phone. “It died,” she cried.

Kody scooped her up into his huge arms, and she hugged him, crying. He climbed up into his truck with her still in his arms, and then Trenton and I walked around. Oddly, Raegan didn’t want to discuss her fight with Brazil. Instead, Travis was the topic of conversion.

“And then he said, ‘and to the absolute fucking horror of losing your best friend, because you were stupid enough to fall in love with her,’ or something like that.” She put her palm on Kody’s chest. “I died.”

I looked to Trenton, but instead of the amused expression I expected, he was lost in thought.

“You okay?” I asked.

“That hit a little too close to home,” he said.

I kissed his cheek. “Baby. Stop. We’re good.”

“We didn’t even make dinner.”

“Let’s go to the store,” Kody said. “Pick up some groceries. I’ll cook.”

“I’ll help,” Trenton said.

“Oh, I have groceries,” I said. “I’m stocked for a while.”

“Do you have pasta shells?” Kody asked.

“Yes,” Raegan and I said in unison.

“Butter?” Kody asked. We nodded. “Flour? Southwest seasoning?” I looked to Trenton, who nodded. “Milk? Jack cheese?” I shook my head no.

Trenton spoke up. “You’ve got pepper jack, though.”

Kody nodded once. “Just as good. Tomatoes? Green chiles? Bread crumbs?”

“No bread crumbs,” Trenton said.

Kody jerked the wheel to the right, and we drove to his apartment. He was inside for less than a minute, and then we were on our way, with a box of bread crumbs.

“I’m starving,” I said. “What are you making?”

“A gourmet Valentine’s Day meal,” Kody said, rather over-dramatically. “Southwestern Mac and Cheese.”

We all laughed, but my stomach growled. It sounded amazing.

Trenton whispered into my ear, “I’m sorry I didn’t take you to dinner.”

I hugged his arm. “This is much better than what we had planned.”

He kissed my cheek and squeezed me against his side. “I agree.”

E
VEN FOR JUST A FEW CLASSES, MIDTERMS WERE KICKING
my ass. Kody, Raegan, Gruber, Blia, and I were all studying at the Red before it got busy or when it was slow, and Trenton was helping me study at Skin Deep. Spring break was quickly approaching, and I was eager for the time off and the extra money I would make from working extra hours, but I had to get through exams first.

The first week of March was a blur, and the week of midterms was even worse, but even though it took me the entire allotted time, I finished my tests and felt good enough about them to enjoy break.

Sunday night after work, instead of driving to my apartment, I drove to Trenton’s. If Kody wasn’t spending the night at our apartment, Raegan was at his. After the first few days of
are we or aren’t we?
they picked up where they’d left off, and I’d never seen Raegan so happy. Their honeymoon period was beginning to make me uncomfortable, though, even if I was getting to enjoy Kody’s breakfasts again. As much as I loved seeing her smile, sleeping at Trenton’s was a relief, for several reasons.

Monday morning, I rolled over, and slowly began to wake up. Trenton’s entire body wrapped mine. Alternating between big spoon and little spoon as we turned from one side to the other had become a nightly ritual. I was more comfortable sleeping on my right side, and Trenton was more comfortable on his left, so we tossed and turned a lot.

I yawned, and out of habit, Trenton pulled me closer. His white walls were broken up by old bronze framed family pictures, portraits of his mother, and many snapshots of us: at the Red Door, at Skin Deep, and the ridiculous shot of us celebrating the completion of my sixth tattoo, an intricate peacock with deep yellows, blues, greens, reds, and purples, spanning from my hip to midrib. Trenton said it was the best he’d ever done, and he traced it tenderly at night before he fell asleep.

My body was becoming a walking piece of art, and that was just fine with me. Trenton had asked me a few times why I continued to work at the shop, even after Coby finished his program and was back on his feet, and I teased that it was for the free tattoos. But, truthfully, Trenton would have done them for free, anyway—a perk of being the artist’s girlfriend.

Between appointments Trenton doodled and sketched at my desk, and when I fell in love with one, I would have him draw it on my skin. I had the originals framed and hung them in my bedroom, and Trenton had the re-creations in his bed.

I climbed out of bed and trudged to the bathroom. The sunlight hitting the bright white walls made my eyes squint. I stubbed my toe on the towel rack I’d helped him pick out, and then I opened the medicine cabinet to grab the toothbrush I kept there. It was all very domestic, and even though I thought I couldn’t do this, I did . . . and I cherished every moment.

I sat on the bright orange couch and rubbed my eyes. At that time of the morning, if the blinds were open, the sun would hit the mosaic of broken glass and mirrors that hung above the couch just right and spray a million rainbows on the opposite wall. I loved to sit there with a cup of coffee and enjoy the view. I only drank coffee at Trenton’s. Raegan and I didn’t have a coffeemaker, and here I could make one cup at a time.