Can't Let Go (8 page)

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Authors: Michelle Lynn

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Romance, #Contemporary, #New Adult & College, #Can't Let Go

BOOK: Can't Let Go
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“Yes,” I answer and pull away from Camden’s tight hold on my hand. “I’ll be right back,” I tell them, and Camden’s eyes fixate on Dex.

We walk over to the benches, and I see sets of eyes from his group and mine on us the whole way. “I wanted to say, I’m sorry,” he says, his head hanging low.

“Me too,” I tell him. “But, Dex—”

“No, Chrissy. Please, don’t lecture me again,” he requests, and I quickly back down. “I just wanted to apologize, the things I said were shitty.”

“Okay,” I mumble, “I’m sorry, too.”

“How have things been?”

“Busy. Graduation is next week. How about you?”

“I graduated last week. I’m heading to Western in the fall. Are you going anywhere?” he asks, hesitantly. I’m sure amongst his friends, it’s as common of a question as a waitress taking a customer’s drink order. But out here, it’s not usually even brought into conversation.

“I’m going to SCC, community,” I admit, and he nods his head slowly.

“That’s good,” he says, although I know how lame it sounds to someone who gets to go to a university.

“It is what it is.” My eyes shift to Camden, who tries to hold a conversation with Katie and Pete, but I catch him glancing over. I wish I wanted him half as much as my body’s desperate need for Dex.

“Do you want to maybe get together for dinner or something?” He leans against the bench, propping one foot up. I can’t help but stare at his strong tanned legs, arms and just his overall amazing body. His blonde hair is a little spiked, and he’s become even manlier than six months ago.

“Sure,” I answer, knowing full well it probably won’t happen, although, I kind of wish it will.

“DEX!” one of the guys screams. When Dex glances back, the guy waves him over and points to the game area.

“I guess I better get going,” he says and quickly wraps his arms around my body. He brings me to that warm, safe place my body craves, but before I can really relish the feeling, he’s backed up from me.

“Okay, well, message me or something,” I instruct him, watching him back away toward his group of friends.

“I will. Bye, Chrissy.” He waves his hand, flashing that wide smile my way before turning around and venturing back over to his friends.

“Bye,” I respond, giving a small wave of my hand. Watching someone walk away that you care so much for, as a friend and maybe more, is harder than I thought. Our lives are too different, going in directions too opposite to ever remain on the same path. It was always inevitable, but this time, there’s more of a finality to our friendship. One problem is thinking that I’ll never see Dex again, and it pricks my heart a little more than I’d prefer.

Fifteen minutes later my friends’ path crosses Dex and his. As his friends joke around with one another, girls screaming in laughter from the guys jokes, my vision is solely on him and his on mine. Automatically I want to run into his arms, have him hold me and let him take care of me. But his one friend pulls him away and our eyes unlock, and I’m thrown back to our reality. How do I love someone so much that I’d rather lose in order for them to gain more than I can give?

He talks for a second and then looks our way again. Desperately wanting to tear my eyes from his, I excuse myself to go get a lemonade. As I’m pulling my money out, his hand stretches in front of me and I can feel his chest against my back. Closing my eyes to compose myself, and maybe calm my erratic heart before turning around, praying like hell I can keep it together.

“You don’t have to do that,” I tell him.

“I wanted to.” He shrugs, and a small smirk forms across his lips.

“Thank you,” I say, taking a sip of my drink.

“I miss you,” he says.

“I know,” I respond, and his eyes falter slightly. “I miss you, too,” I say, and his eyes perk up.

“Let’s go. I’ll take you home,” he says, motioning with his head to the side.

I glance at a very interested Camden and then back to Dex. “Dex,” I sigh.

“Come on, Chrissy,” he pleads, but I see Camden and think I should be with him. He’ll be here long after Dex leaves for school. I just wish my heart agreed with my brain.

“I came here with them.” I nod my head toward my group of friends.

“So what? I came with them, but I just want to spend some time with
you
.”

“I can’t, Dex. I’m sorry.” Before I stop myself, I place my lemonade on the table and wrap my arms around him so tight I’m surprised he’s not suffocating. He holds me just as firm, and I try to commit the smell of Dex to memory as my face rests in the crook of his neck. “Good luck in school. You’ll do great.”

Without looking him in the face, although I would love to be able to study his face for an hour just to burn the image into my head, I turn on my heels. Running around the opposite side of the stand, I hunch over and sob.

Ranting to myself over and over again that it’s for the best. I would only bring him down. He can’t be worried about me when he has his whole future to figure out. Then I hear his friend come over and just the sound of his voice is enough for me to doubt my decision.

“What are you doing with that girl? You have Bella over there waiting for a rematch from last week. Come on, man.” Dex must not move right away because his friend continues. “I know she was hot, but enough of the slumming it, man. Let’s go.” Then it’s silence except for the employee working the stand, the clinking of pans replacing the beating of my fast heartbeats Dex ignites. Repeating my mantra that he’s better off without me over and over until I compose myself enough to join my friends.

 

*dpgroup.org*

22 years old

 

“HULK, LET’S GO, man,” Brady screams up the stairs. I can only imagine Sadie, tapping her foot. We’re due to meet up with Jessa and Grant in order to be on time to Trey’s parents’ house. My phone vibrates on the bed as I shrug my t-shirt over my body.

Picking it up, still shaking in my hands, a number I don’t recognize crosses the screen. Wavering on whether or not I want to chance this being something at the house, I hit ignore because I don’t want to be bothered with my dad’s so-called “business” today. Then thoughts of someone raiding or maybe some loser found out where my dad’s operation is. Worse case, someone ratted him out. Figuring someone who I have programmed in my phone would have made the phone call to alert me, I wait to see if they leave a voicemail. Which they do—my phone vibrates a second later.

Clicking speaker, I place the black rectangle on my dresser while I gel my hair. My fingers are manipulating each strand, placing it in the perfect spot when her voice comes across. My hands stop mid-air and I my eyes fixate on the phone. Closing my eyes, that sweet sound that’s only lived in my dreams the past years still unglues me to the core. “Um … Dex. I’m in town and … um … I was wondering … if maybe we could … um … talk.” Her voice is practically shaking from the awkwardness of the phone call.

“HULK!” Brady screams again. Debating in my head what I should do. I could easily claim ignorance that I never got the call. Say that I was already out of town. Excuses run through my head as to why I would leave her wherever she is. Then the images of her alone, or worse, not. Knowing even with the distance that has formed between us over the years, I could never, would never not go to her if she needed me.

Walking out my door, I peer over the railing to a sour Brady. “Man, I gotta do something. You guys go without me,” I shout down.

“What is so damn important?” he asks, sensitive to the fact he can tell something’s off with me. Brady is like the father of our friends, protective of us all.

“A friend needs me,” I say, remaining vague. If Brady knew the half of what I did when I leave this house, he’d probably have an anxiety attack.

He stands there staring up at me and wavers at the door. Probably counting in his head how long he has before Sadie, his fiancé, comes in search of him. “What’s up, man?” he asks, stepping up a few stairs.

“I’m not sure yet. I need to make a call.” I’m honest with him because Brady has a sense of comfort about him. Although, I’m fairly certain our secrets are shared with Sadie, he keeps things mostly to himself.

“Do that, and we’ll wait.” He jogs back down the steps, and the front door shuts behind him.

Sitting on my bed, I bite my lip. It’s been so long. Not that she hasn’t crossed my mind; I’m not sure a day goes by that I don’t wonder where she is and what’s she’s doing. I question why she left and never answered my calls. The guilt that I somehow left her behind always resonating inside somewhere within me, even when she’s the one who disappeared on me. The small piece of electronics sits in my hands like a ten pound weight. There’s no turning back, no erasing from my mind once I press that call icon.

Pushing back my fear, I press the call button, release a deep breath and bring the phone up to my ear. She answers on the first ring, confirming something is seriously wrong. “Dex,” she answers. Another stab of the knife that she still has my number programmed, but I don’t have her obviously changed number.

“Chrissy?” I say her name out loud for the first time in four years. How can her name seem foreign on my tongue?

The line is quiet for a few seconds before she continues. “Hi. I’m in Western … at this place called The Loft. Could you come down here?” she asks.

“What’s wrong?” My foot begins tapping on the floor.

“I just need to talk. If you’re too busy—”

“No—give me five,” I quickly tell her.

“Okay.” Her voice is so shallow, I dread what I’m about to discover.

Leaving the house, I lock it up and then walk over to Brady’s Camaro. Sadie rolls down the window. “I have to head to The Loft.” Sadie’s forehead wrinkles, and she turns to Brady, who takes a deep breath. “We’ll drop you off,” he says, nodding his head to the backseat. Sadie opens the door and gets out, allowing me to slide the seat up and fold my over six-foot frame into the back.

We drive the familiar path in five minutes. A million thoughts about what I’m about to walk into stream through my mind. When we pull up outside the dingy college bar, Sadie climbs out of the car, pulling her seat forward to allow me access to exit. “We’ll wait,” Brady says, but I wave him off.

“Don’t bother. Not sure I’ll make it to Trey’s parents’.”

“We’ll wait,” he repeats, and Sadie smiles. Damn happy ass couple.

The second I enter the bar, I spot her. Two booths to the right, sipping a glass of golden beer. My body hyper-aware of hers instantly responds with a warm current that travels from my stomach to my feet. She’s still gorgeous with her blonde hair highlighted from the lone stream of light through the back door that’s propped open.

Taking the two steps, I give a wave at Pete, which makes Chrissy’s eyes tear from mine to veer his way. Sliding into the bench across from her, our eyes lock for a brief moment. Neither of us speaks a word while we take each other in for the first time in years. “How are you? It’s been a while.” I break the awkwardness, and she twirls her straw around her glass.

“Okay.” Her shoulders rise and fall. “Just got back into town a few weeks ago.” She never looks up, and I can feel her leg anxiously bouncing up and down under the table.

“Where were you?” I ask, and her eyes dart to mine. They’re distant and far away from me. Clearly something’s wrong.

“Indiana. Away from here. Not sure why I decided to come back.” Her body shifts, and she gives me the fakest smile to appease me.

“Well, I’m heading out of town. Do you want to join us?” Not sure why I ask, other than I’m thinking getting out of town is exactly what she may need.

“Okay.” The fact she doesn’t ask normal questions, like why, where, and who with explains the whole phone call. Something is going down, and I need to figure out what the fuck it is.

“Let’s go.” I slide out and stand up. She grabs her purse, wrapping it around her body and slides out of the booth. Digging in her purse she reaches for money, but I quickly throw down a five to cover her drink.

“I’ve got it,” she says, picking it up and handing it back to me, replacing it with her own five. Rolling my eyes, I half chuckle that she hasn’t changed a bit. So, I allow her take the independence of buying her own drink.

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