Never (10 page)

Not the single word I was looking for, but I was a little more concerned by how weird she was acting. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” She marched right past me, pretty much proving she was nowhere near alright. I wanted to find out what was going on, but she was suddenly in a hurry to get to my apartment.

I followed her inside, pulling the door closed.

She turned to the table and I clucked my tongue. “It’s kind of cold now.” I forced some cheer in my voice. “But I know from personal experience that cold pizza is the best kind of pizza.”

She didn’t say a word, or acknowledge my attempt at a joke. I moved beside her, following her line of sight. She was burning holes in the six pack.

“Hey, it’s after five,” I said with a wink that she didn’t see because she was too busy glaring at the table. I gave up. “What’s up, Juliet?”

“Are you incapable of operating without alcohol?” Her voice wasn’t combative; it was eerily calm. And she wasn’t looking for a response. It was rhetorical. A fact.

“It’s just a couple of beers, not a keg,” I said, feeling a flash of defensiveness slice through me.”I should get some credit for not polishing it off after you left me sitting here for thirty minutes.”

I knew it was a bad choice of words as soon as it came out, but the darts she threw my way were coated with condescension. “We’re not really bringing up the suckiness of waiting around for someone, are we?”

I flexed my fists at my side before turning away from the stifling animosity that was coming off her in waves.

“I thought tonight was going to be about do-overs.”

She walked to the table and pulled out a chair, lowering herself down. She folded her hands in her lap and sat absurdly straight like this was the most uncomfortable experience of her life.

“And that’s what you want? A do over?

“What kind of question is that?” I snapped, feeling the weight of my own hurt over finding out she’d been just outside this whole time. “Of course I want to. Don’t you?”

She looked down at the table and the knots in my stomach grew spikes that cut and dug at me. She didn’t say a thing...but her silence was a loud, screeching reply.

She didn’t want to start over at all.

My nostrils flared uncontrollably and my throat felt like it had been scoured with glass. When I opened my mouth the first time, I couldn’t get the question out because I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear her answer. “What happened between yesterday and now, Juliet?”

When she met my eyes, I wished she hadn’t. Her look hollowed me out, turning the blood in my veins to ice.

“You have the audacity to sit here and act like us starting over is
possible
after what you did?”

“I’ve already apologized for the TA and showing up drunk—”

“And what exactly were you apologizing for with Lance?” she hissed, fair skin burning red with emotion. “For threatening him? Because I only remember your little booze temper tantrum.”

Threatening him.

She knew.

I took a step toward the table but she hurled a look my way that nearly peeled the skin from my flesh. Of course she was pacing back and forth in front of my place, trying to figure out what to say to me. Or how long of a hike it would be back to campus.

“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” she spat.

I ran my hand through my hair, not looking at her, not knowing what to say. “Julie—”

“Don’t call me that,” she whispered, the hurt in her voice punching me in the ribs. Bringing me to my knees. “Just tell me you didn’t. That you
couldn’t
.”

Her absurd request made me pause, sure I misheard her. We both knew I had. ‘Dickhead BF‘ was a role I kicked ass in lately. I’d listened to Candi and trusted a rumor instead of my girl. I’d ignored her requests for some time to figure it all out. And then I’d confronted Lance, almost decking him for something that didn’t even happen. A month ago I wouldn’t have believed I was capable of that kind of insanity. Lately, it sounded right up my alley.

“I know I’ve been saying this way too much,” I started. “But I am—”

“Tell me you didn’t do this, Lucas!” she shrieked, her voice unlike anything I’d ever heard coming out of her mouth. Crazed and terrified. Painful.

I glanced over at her. The fury, the anguish, should have made it unbearable to face the pain my actions caused. But I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Her face was paler that I’d ever seen it, eyes wide and imploring. If hearing and seeing what I’d done to her was a jab to the ribs, the reality of what she was asking was like being buried alive.

Sweat exploded at my temple. I wanted to claw at my throat. I couldn’t breathe.

Even though we both knew I’d done it, she didn’t want to face it. The truth of it gutted her.

But I couldn’t lie to her, even if it was the easiest thing to do. Even if it meant I could draw a breath and dig myself out of this hole of my own doing.

“If you don’t say it, there’s nothing else,” she said painfully. “If you’re the kind of guy that thinks it’s normal to walk around threatening people in my name, then I don’t know you. If you threatened Lance, I can’t be with you.”

I wanted nothing more than to tell her I wasn’t that guy. That I’d never do anything like that. I wanted to tell her that I realized it was a mistake as soon as I did it and I’d take it all back if I could. But I’d already done too much. I wouldn't insult her on top of everything else.

“I can’t lie to you,” I began hoarsely. “I screwed up-”

All vulnerability erased from her face. The light behind her eyes dimmed as she rose to her feet.

“We’re done, Lucas.”

Chapter Twelve: Juliet

“So when are you going to tell me what happened with Lucas?”

I let out a groan and slammed the door. I’d been avoiding that question for the past forty-eight hours. Longer, if you count how long I’d been dodging the question when it came from Kim.

After giving me a week of space where she bit back comments about me living in the same t-shirt and leggings for days and holed up in the dorm with Capri Suns and Hot Pockets, she finally brought him up. Just the sound of his name made me break down, crying for an hour straight. When I was done, she promised she wouldn’t bring him up again. Yesterday, when she packed up her things for Fall Break, I knew she was fighting the urge to break her promise, but I lied about my flight and escaped.

The entire flight I focused on the four day vacation from Seattle and all the things that reminded me of Lucas. The dining hall where we had the Candi incident. The SMB building. The Bio classroom where he’d surprised me by not speaking to me outside of our assignments. Where he pushed away from the table and left without a word. It was like losing him all over again—which was why I’d been stoked for Fall Break. Put some states between me and ground zero. But Mom had picked up the torch. As soon as she saw me at the airport, she knew something was wrong.

What happened Juliet? Is it Lucas?

Even though we’d come to IGA at her request, I moved like I was the one wielding a hefty shopping list and a mission to complete. The neighborhood grocery was as dingy and worn down as the rest of the town. It had the stale odor of a place frozen in time. I half expected outdated magazines at the register or a physical cow to be perched in the dairy aisle that we had to milk ourselves. I’d only been gone for three months and and this place felt foreign.

Mom rolled up beside me, the cart rattling unhealthily like it would fall apart at any moment. “You can’t ignore the question the whole trip, sweetie.”

“You sure about that?” I said stubbornly. “I’ve already told you—I don’t want to talk about it.”

“And I told
you
that it’s not healthy to bottle this stuff up. Keeping hurt and anger tied up inside you is just a disaster waiting to happen.”

I turned to her, anger getting the best of me. “You’re one to talk. How long did you let that jerk Chuck grab your butt at your old job? Because the look on your face the night he did it in front of me wasn’t the look of someone being groped for the first time. You swallowed it and it was handled when he was transferred, not when you finally blew up over it.”

I snapped my mouth shut too late. She was a few feet behind me, but I knew she heard every word. Even though we were the only two people on the aisle, her face reddened with embarrassment as she looked away from me, trying to hide the hurt.

“Mom, I didn’t mean that.” I rushed to her, guilt building in me. When she pulled her gaze to mine, I saw she wasn’t embarrassed for herself. She was embarrassed of
me
.

She shook her head, her eyes sad. “I don’t care what that boy did to you, Juliet—I didn’t raise you to be cruel.”

“I know.” I hung my head. “I didn’t mean it.”

She sighed. “And I didn’t raise a liar.”

I turned so red that my complexion matched the tomato picture on the cans beside us. I couldn’t face her after I said that. It used to make me angry that she put up with so much. That she let the world walk all over her and took it with a smile on her face. But I didn’t know how hard it was for her. How she put up with crap so I could have a better life.

“I’m sorry, Mom.”

She cupped my cheek. “I know you are. And I am too. You’ll talk about Lucas when and if you’re ready.”

I gave her a weak smile, not having it in me to tell her I doubted I’d be ready to talk about any of it in the span of the three days we had together. I wasn’t ready to admit that despite my best efforts, all the promises I made to myself about not being vulnerable and not getting hurt again, there I was, holding my broken heart in my hands.

Naturally, the hopeless romantic in me compared the breakups. I’d ended things with both guys, but with Lucas I didn’t want to. With Jared, I couldn’t wait to be free.

I remembered how Jared slowly went from the guy I fell for, someone funny and outgoing with so much drive that his passion rubbed off on me, to a complete stranger. The guy who made jokes running the gamut from adorably potty humor to cracks that made think about life to someone that was downright cruel. Class and homework were just speed bumps on the way to Party USA. It got so bad that he was barely able to function without taking some liquid motivation from his flask.

The first time he hit me he’d been so drunk he could barely stand ups straight. Or that’s what I told myself. It was the booze. And then he did it when he was sober.

The love soured and it was easy to walk away from us.
Too
easy to walk away. It probably had something to do with the fact that he had an ace up his sleeve. He took a sledgehammer to every happy and beautiful moment we shared from the moment he pressed record. He made it worse when he decided to share what we did behind closed doors with everyone, making me the talk of campus whether I wanted it or not.

After I picked up the pieces, I swore I’d never let myself get blindsided by love again.

And then I found Lucas.

Lucas, the cute boy I’d fallen in love with before I even knew what love was. The cute boy that grew into a hot guy that made my heart race, mouth go dry and the place between my thighs quiver.

I didn’t know that I’d held onto all those moments between me and Lucas until he was close and  all the beautiful, terrifying emotions burst free.

I’d fought it, for the same reasons I’d walked away from Jared, because no love was worth the pain of everything falling apart. And then Lucas stripped me to the bone.

I shook out of it, tuning into Mom’s conversation.

“I was thinking about spaghetti for dinner?” She held out two cans of spaghetti sauce. “Maybe a salad and garlic bread?”

“Sounds delicious,” I said, forcing some cheer in my voice. “And maybe I could make some of my world famous chocolate chip cookies.”

“Now
that
sounds delicious,” she smirked, dropping the cans in the cart. We both knew my dirty little secret. My world famous cookies were really more like Pillsbury's world famous cookies. “Why don’t you go grab the dough and some garlic bread and I’ll do the pasta and meet you at the register.” She glanced at her watch and I gave her a pointed glare.

“Is there a reason we’re suddenly in a hurry?”

“It’s just later than I realized,” she said nonchalantly, headed toward the pasta section. “And I might have to go in later tonight.”

“I knew it,” I said, but got zero satisfaction from it. “I told you we could have just grabbed some chicken or something quick.” She’d been talking me out of my apprehension all afternoon when I told her the last thing she should be doing was cooking up a storm when she had to work. Her response was that she had plenty of time before her shift. And she might not have to go in at all.

“You have to work tonight, don’t you?”

She gingerly placed two boxes of pasta beside the jars like she was avoiding some ticking bomb, not wanting to snip the wrong wire. “It’s just a few hours. Half a shift.”

“Then why are we—”

“It’s your first night home, Juliet,” she said, the worry lines in her face deepening. “And I know you’re probably living off terrible dorm food. You deserve something hearty. Good home cooking.”

“And you deserve to let me take care of
you
,” I said firmly. I gently took control of the cart. “Step one is letting me cook you dinner.”

She didn’t look convinced. “You have many talents, dear. Cooking is not one of them.”

“I can boil a pot of water and brown beef, thank you very much,” I said, sticking out my tongue.

“And you know that you brown the meat
before
you put it in the sauce?”

I feigned shock. “You do?” When she looked worried, I laughed, steering the cart toward the dairy aisle. “Yes, I know that, Mom. Geez.”

She put a hand on my shoulder. “My little girl is growing up,” she joked. When we looked at each other, a moment flashed between us. Things had been a little awkward since everything came out about her and Mr. McNamara. She’d apologized and I said I accepted it, but it wasn’t nearly as cut and dry as that.

Even though she generally avoided all conversations about our time at the McNamara estate, I’d always thought it was out of pain over how much our lives had changed—not because of her role in it by having an affair with Mr. McNamara.