If I Can't Have You (11 page)

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Authors: Lauren Hammond

BOOK: If I Can't Have You
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~16~

Sometimes I wish I were a little kid again, skinned knees are easier to fix than broken hearts.
 
~Author Unknown~

The next day Whit parades into our room with an exuberant grin. “I know what you need!” Whit cheers. “A little retail therapy!”

I don’t need retail therapy and the only thing I can think about doing at this point is hurling myself over a cliff. “I’ll pass.” I lie down on my stomach and plant my face into the pillow.

Whit flops down beside me. “I know it’s going to be hard for you, Robs, but you have to get over this.” She places her hand flat on my back. “Think of this in a positive way, at least you didn’t let him water your garden.”

I lift my head and glare at her. “Ugh, Whit.”

She shrugs. “What?”

No, I didn’t let him “water my garden” but it was close. And right now I hate myself more than anything for letting him get that close. Also, I hate myself for being fooled by his super model looks, charm, and charisma.

I change the subject. “If we go shopping in town, there’s a really good chance that we’ll see him and I don’t think I can handle that right now, okay?”

Whit falls back on the bed with a sigh. “You can’t avoid him forever.”

“Yes I can and I will.”

Whit rolls over and props herself up on her elbows as I roll onto my back. “No you can’t. This is a small town and you’re going to see him eventually.”

“Not if I can help it.”

“Seriously, enough of this shit!” Whit hops up off the bed and starts yanking on my arm. “Get up. We’re going shopping.”

“No we’re not.”

“Robs, I am not going to let you spend the rest of the vacation cooped up in this room!” Whit pulls me until half of my body is dangling off the edge of the bed. “Get up.”

I don’t move. Whit tugs on my arm with more force and grunts as she begins to make more progress. Now my entire abdomen is hanging off the edge of the bed and I’m digging my toes into the mattress to keep myself from falling. “Whit, stop!” Another forceful tug and I feel like she’s going to rip my shoulder out of its socket. “You’re hurting me!”

She doesn’t listen and says, “So.” Then she continues tugging. Finally I fall into a heap on the floor. Whit drops my arm while I lie there on the floor. She crosses her arms and taps her foot impatiently. “Get a move on it, Robs.”

“No,” I groan.

Whit crouches down right next to my ear. “Trust me, if I have to pull you out the door by your feet I will.”

I grumble and push myself off the floor, sitting up with my back against the bed frame. “Whit, the hurt still feels too fresh. Too new. Just give me another day or two. I promise. I’ll come out then.”

She shakes her head, standing up. “Nope. I’m not buying it.” She walks to the door. “Let’s go. Robs, I know you. One, you give up way too easily. Two, if things get hard or difficult you shut yourself out. You never face your problems head on.”

I raise an eyebrow. “And how is that a bad thing?”

“Because then the problem never gets solved. You’ll never have closure. You’ll never move on. Look how many years you’ve spent pining over this tool. The only way you’re going to be able to move on is if you confront the problem head on. Yeah, it will be painful. Yeah it’s going to suck. But at least you won’t be spending every vacation from here on out seeing him places and feeling awkward around him, wondering why.”

Her words make sense, but I’m still wary about leaving. What if I see Drake out with Sadie? I know that will be my undoing and I don’t want to give either one of them the satisfaction of seeing me cry in public over what they’ve done to me. Also, what if Drake asks me to talk? I don’t think I’m in the right frame of mind to have a normal conversation. I’m too pissed and heartbroken and more than anything I think that any conversation that I have with Drake will most likely lead to a slap across the face over me sticking around to listen to whatever lame excuse he’s going to give me.

And I know he’ll have one ready. A lame excuse.

Guys like Drake always have something prepared in situations like this.
 
He’ll either say, “It’s not you, kid. It’s me,” or “I just don’t want to be in a relationship right now.” I swear I can hear the sound of my hand connecting with his jaw ringing in my ears already.

Whit extends her hand and wiggles fingers, leaning over inching closer to me. “Seriously, Robs. It’s only for a little while. If we see him and it’s too overwhelming for you we can come back.”

I glimpse at her from the corner of my eye. “Swear?”

She flashes me a cheesy grin. “I promise.”

Whit is so persistent. Sometimes I have a hard time telling her no—no I have a hard time telling her no all the time.

My parents give us the car to use for the day. They are headed down to the beach with the Marshalls. I’m in the driver’s seat and dad stands at the window and motions for me to roll it down. I hit the power windows button and he leans into the car. “Why don’t you guys take Sadie with you?”

“No.” I don’t think I can say it fast enough. Sadie walks in front of our house with her cell phone in hand, texting away. I scowl at her and wish that her phone would spontaneously combust and blow her hand off. She’s probably texting Drake.

“Hey, Sadie!” Dad calls.

I grip his wrist and squeeze. “Dad, no!” I glance at Whit and a nervous flicker resides in her eyes.

Dad ignores me.

Sadie stops, glares at me for a second, and averts her attention to dad, flashing him a fake smile. “What’s up Mr. M?”

I’m pretty sure my fingernails are digging into dad’s arm, but he doesn’t pay attention. “The girls are going into town to go shopping. Would you like to join them?”

If looks could kill I swear Sadie’s fierce eyes would give me a heart attack. “That’s okay,” she says coolly. “I have other plans.” A smug grin tugs at her lips and she waves at me. I assume by the look on her face and the way she said, “I have other plans,” she means that she has plans with Drake. And I feel like I’m about to go crazy on her.

“Jesus, kiddo,” Dad huffs. But I can barely hear him. I can’t take my eyes off of Sadie and the phone that’s glued to her palm. Is she talking to him?
Is she? Is she? Is she?
Or is she just saying it like that because she knows it will get under my skin and eat at me like a flesh eating parasite. Dad pries my hand off his arm. “Robin, sweetheart. You really need to cut those fingernails. They’re like claws.”

I face dad and he’s examining bright red crescent shaped marks on his forearm from my nails. “Sorry, Dad,” I mutter under my breath and try to look around him to see if Sadie is still on her phone, but I can’t see her. She’s disappeared from my view.

Whit shrugs and looks out the passenger window and dad leans into the car again. “Well you two be safe okay?”

“We will daddy.”

He kisses my forehead and then I back the car out of the driveway.

In Paradise all the town shops are so bunched together. One right next to the other, kind of like the beach house we come to every year. And it’s nice that everything is so close. One because then you don’t have to walk far to get to where you want to go and two because it’s extremely hot and you don’t have to spend too much time in the blazing heat. There’s like a ten second time span in between walking from one shop to the next.

After we park the car, the first shop we go into is a swimwear shop. It’s a small cubicle of a store with the girls swimwear on the right half and the boys on the left. When we enter Whit flashes me a look with an excited gleam in her eye. “Do I smell a sale?”

My eyes focus on the back of the store and there’s big read sign hanging over and few racks that reads; 25 percent off. “You’ve got a good sniffer there, Fido.”

Whit doesn’t hear me. She’s already walking with a pep in her step to the back of the store.

While Whit peruses the sale rack, I thumb through a few of the racks in the front of the store, but every bathing suit I pick up has like a zillion dollar price tag. I pull out a skimpy white lace bikini and examine the contents of it. Seriously, who wants to pay a hundred bucks for some string and two fabric triangles that barely cover your nipples? Not me, that’s for sure.

I make my way to the back of the store and Whit has a few suits in her hand while she continues going through the rack. “I see you’ve found some stuff,” I mutter and skim the sales rack. I’m over the shopping trip and it just started. I wish I would have just stayed cooped up in my room for the day.

Whit faces me and holds up a neon orange bikini. I frown and point to it. “What is that?”

Whit glances at the bathing suit then back at me. “Um, a two piece bathing suit. You should buy one sometime, Ms. Speedo.”

“I’ll pass. It’s way too loud for my taste.” The last thing I want to wear is a neon orange bikini. “It reminds me of an orange caution cone on a construction site.”

Whit scrunches up her face and places the suit back on the rack. “Good point.” When Whit turns back around her eyes widen and her mouth drops open.

I start turning. “What?”

Whit grabs my arm and squeezes before I can twist all the way around. “Don’t turn around.

“Is it him?” I lower my voice, and a flash of worry sparks in my eyes.

“No,” Whit says. “It’s worse. It’s
her
.”

Sadie.

What about her damn plans? She probably just said that to avoid riding with us. Not that I really care. She’s the last person on the planet I’d want riding in a car with me right now. The sound of metal scraping against metal throbs in my ears as Sadie looks through a rack of swimsuits. “Whit, we have to get out of here,” I whisper.

There a huge part of me that wants to confront Sadie, but when I think about it I really have no right to. I mean I do, but I don’t. Sadie and I aren’t friends anymore so how would she know that I’ve been head over heels for Drake for the last three years. Then again, she saw us at the party together. If she couldn’t tell by the way I acted around him that I was interested in him than she had to be really drunk. Or maybe she didn’t care that I was interested. Some girls thrive on that you know.

But Whit doesn’t give me any time to confront her. A nanosecond later she’s stuffing the swimsuits in her hand back onto the rack and yanking me out the door before I can give Sadie a second look.

Outside the store Whit places both of her hands on my shoulders and looks me in the eye. I meet her gaze and exhale as a million questions pound through my brain and my heart begins to dislodge from its cavity. I focus on the sidewalk, staring at a few loose rocks. I can feel the tears building, ready to fall, drop from my eyes and dampen the cement.

Whit shakes me. I look at her and pain ripples through her features. She embraces me. “I’m so sorry,” she says apologetically. “I shouldn’t have made you come today.”

I back away from her and wipe my tears away with my wrists. “Its fine,” I sniffle. “Honestly, I didn’t think it would be this difficult.”

All I can think about is the way their limbs were tangled together and the way Sadie was kissing Drake. So deep. So passionate.

“What? The shopping trip?”

“No.” My voice cracks. “Mending a broken heart.”

~17~

Relationships are like glass.
 
Sometimes it's better to leave them broken than try to hurt yourself putting it back together.
 
~Author Unknown~

For some reason that I can’t explain, I tell Whit I’ll be able to handle it if we go to one more store. But I don’t know if that’s true. It seems like every time I say that I’ll be able to handle whatever the day throws at me, my day automatically takes a turn for the worst.

I guess that’s ironic because as soon as we walk into the CD shop my day does get worse. Much, much worse.

Elliot spots us as soon as we walk into the shop. He’s in the back of the store and he raises his eyes from a CD in his hand. He and I exchange a glance then he smirks and bites his bottom lip. A quirk that totally reminds me of Drake and I have to look away. I close my eyes and see Drake’s face. I see his lips. He’s whispering words. He bites his lip and my breath hitches just thinking about it.

 

I feel Whit’s eyes on me, but I don’t meet her gaze. I know the look she’s wearing and it will be too painful for me to stare at her when she’s wearing the “I’m worried about you, Robs,” look. Instead I mumble, “I’ll be in the front of the store.” Then I distance myself from her. I don’t wait to see if she’s following.

I pick through a bin of CD’s finding nothing that appeals to me and move on to the next one. After picking through that bin, I still can’t find anything and now I’m not only tortured and in pain, but I’m frustrated too.

 

“Nothing good, huh?”

Elliot’s voice startles me and my head snaps up. “What?” The sound of his voice stabs my ears and I dig into the bin in front of me, shuffling through piles of CD’s to do everything I can to avoid looking at him.

“Are you avoiding me?”

Elliot catches on fast. I want to tell him, yes I’m avoiding you. You remind me too much of that douche-lord sibling of yours, but instead I keep my eyes on the bin of CD’s, praying that Whit will come over and insert one of her famous, one-liners. I wait a minute and Whit doesn’t show. God never answers my prayers when I want him to. “No.”

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