Past Imperfect (13 page)

“Is it okay if I stay and do your laundry? I also thought I’d cook dinner. That is if it’s okay with you.”

“You know I don’t expect you to always do my laundry or cook for me.” I didn’t expect it, but I had to admit, that part of this
“
relationship” was pretty good. It was almost like having Miss Sally around except I never had sex with Miss Sally. Although, hers were the first set of tits I ever noticed.

“I like doing things for you, Brad. It makes me feel useful and wanted.”

“Well, as long as you enjoy it.” I turned to leave.

“When will you be home?” she asked.

“Um… I’m not sure. I might go hang out with Jason for a while.”

“Well, I’ll be here waiting for you.” There was a weird tone in her voice. I stared at her for a few seconds, trying to see if I could spot the crazy in her eyes.

Things with Becca and I were different than anything I had ever experienced. We had been doing this for a little over a month, but it was as if we had just met. I didn’t know any more about her now than I did that night we met. And to be honest, I didn’t want to. I didn’t call her or ask her to come over. We didn’t go out together on dates. I never looked for her around campus. She just showed up at places. I went to parties and hooked up with other girls, but never felt as if I was cheating on Becca. You can’t cheat on a relationship that doesn’t exist. I figured she would get tired of being basically my maid and disappear soon enough, but that never happened. Something was going to have to change and soon because I felt a shift in her feelings toward me.

I was making a mental note of all the things I needed to get done this week. I had to stop by Jason’s place and get the notes from Ethics class and then go get my car washed. I was supposed to meet Mom in thirty minutes for dinner. She was in town for business and must have been feeling guilty about something. When she thinks she’s not being a good mother, which is rare, she buys me some expensive item or meal. She’ll ask a few inane questions, that I’ll mindlessly answer, and then we will stare at each other for the next hour. This charade seems to soothe her guilt and at least I get a good meal out of it.

“Faster, Brad! I need it faster!” she moaned.

I was going as fast as I could. I wasn’t a fucking hummingbird. She was the one who needed to hurry up. I liked Becca, okay, but she took forever to come. When we first started fucking, it was a challenge. I tried to beat my best time, but now I was over it, and ready to move on. For the past week and a half I’d been dropping hints that things were coming to an end, but she didn’t seem to be picking up on any of them. It wasn’t that I didn’t like having her around. She ran a lot of errands for me and did my laundry every week, which really freed up my time. But I could feel she was getting too attached and thinking we were something more than we were. So this was it. One last goodbye fuck and I was out of her and here. That is, if she’d finish up already.

“I’m almost there,” she yelled out.

“Becca, I have to meet my mom for dinner in like thirty minutes,” I grunted.

I thrust into her hard one more time causing her to finally come unglued.

“Ooooh, Brad! I love you!” she screamed.

Shit, this was going to be awkward.

I started to climb off when her arms wrapped around my neck, stopping me.

“Don’t move yet. Stay inside of me for a while.” The grip she had on my neck was like a vise.

“I can’t, Becca. I told you I have plans tonight.”

I saw tears pool in her eyes as her grip loosened. I slid out and off of her as quickly as possible. I need to go ahead and let her know this was the end of the road for us. Tossing the condom in the trashcan, I quickly threw on my boxers and jeans. Glancing back, I saw her lying on her side, curled up in a ball, watching me. A few tears managed to roll down her cheeks. I shrugged on my shirt and buttoned it. I felt her eyes burning a hole in my back.

Regardless of what women think, it’s difficult for a guy when he has to breakup with them. There were usually tears and either fury or begging. I’d rather deal with fury because it makes for a quick getaway and confirms that break-up was a good call.

The beggars were more difficult because I had to sit there and pretend to care while I listened to them whine—usually for a prolonged period of time. I’m always somewhat physically attracted to the girls I’m with, otherwise I wouldn’t be fucking them. But things usually fell apart when they opened their mouths. I’d never been very interested in listening. The only exception had been Amanda Kelly. I really liked what came out of her mouth. I liked Becca, but I liked her more for her ability to get the wrinkles out of my shirts than anything else. I inhaled a deep breath before turning around. This was it, I couldn’t put it off any longer.

As our eyes locked, I got a strange feeling that what I was about to do would hurt her more than it had the other girls.

I cleared my throat and said, “Becca, I think we’re done.”

“I know, you said you have plans and you’re dressed already,” she said quietly, struggling to hold her voice steady.

“I’m not talking about tonight. It’s time we move on.”

Slowly raising herself up onto her elbows, she blinked a couple of times in disbelief. “I don’t understand.”

Sweet Jesus, this girl’s got a 4.0 average. Apparently, book smarts doesn’t translate into real-life comprehension.

“We should start seeing other people,” I said as neutrally as possible. My intention was never to be mean, but if the chick pushed me, I had no problem laying it out there.

“I don’t want to see other people. What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing. In fact, you do my laundry better than our maid.”

“Is it because I said I loved you?” Panic surfaced in her tone. “You don’t have to say it back right now, if you don’t feel it yet.”

The look in her eyes was pathetic. I don’t understand why girls can’t just let things go. Why do they need to dig and dig for an answer or an explanation until they force a guy to hurt them? I didn’t have the time or patience to deal with a beggar today. I needed to turn her into a hater, so I wouldn’t be late for dinner.

“Becca, the thing is I’m never going to feel it for you.”

“Why?” Her voice cracked and tears streamed down her face.

“Because, I’m just not.” I glanced at my watch seeing the time ticking away as my impatience grew.

“But I’ve always done everything you asked me to do and I don’t think I’ve asked a lot of you. I don’t need to hear you say the words, Brad. Just don’t run because I said them.”

“I’m not running because you said them.” Pausing for a moment, I knew what I was about to say would tear into her, but she left me no choice. “Becca, it was fun for a while, but now it’s over. We were never anything more than fuck buddies, more emphasis on the fuck than buddies. I’m done and have been for a long time. Sorry, but I need to leave now or I’ll be late for dinner.”

Not giving her a second to respond, I grabbed my jacket, turned, and was out the door in one fluid movement.

The next day I pulled onto campus, headed to Jason’s to pick up the notes from class he was lending. I parked the car and walked toward his dorm. As I rounded the corner I was met by a flurry of activity that made me stop. I recognized a lot of the faculty, staff, and students who were standing around talking. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“Shit Brad, I’ve been trying to get in touch with you all morning,” Jason said with relief in his voice.

“I’ve had my phone turned off since last night. I forgot to turn it back on.” Mom outlawed cell phones at the dinner table. Or rather, she outlawed mine and my brother Peyton’s cell phones at the dinner table. She, on the other hand, needed hers close by for business. What a hypocrite.

“I’m really sorry, man. Are you doing okay?” Jason asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

The look on his face morphed from concern, to confusion, to shocking realization.

“You don’t know?”

“Know what?” I asked.

My gaze shifted away from him toward the crowd of people standing around the ambulance that I hadn’t noticed before.

“It’s Becca…”

Those were the last words I heard before seeing a white sheet-covered stretcher, flanked by two paramedics coming out of the dorm across the parking lot. In one torrential downpour the sights and sounds flooded my senses. I heard crying, gasps, orders yelled, car doors slamming, and sirens.

Not looking at Jason, I asked, “What happened?”

“I’m sorry, Brad, I thought you knew. I mean I know you guys have been together for a while… I just assumed someone had already told you.”

“Told me what?”

He placed his hand on my shoulder in comfort and said, “Becca killed herself last night.”

“Fuck me.”

The second I saw the doors to the ambulance close, I knew I had to get out of there. My pulse sped up and I started to get lightheaded. I saw Jason’s mouth move, but didn’t hear any words come out of it. I needed to get away from the crowd. I couldn’t think clearly standing there in the middle of the parking lot. I walked to my car as quickly as possible and headed home. My place was a short ten-minute drive from campus. By the time I got there I was on the verge of hyperventilating, sweat was pouring down the back of my neck, and the sound of my heart beating filled my ears. I sat on the sofa, elbows on knees, and ran my hands through my hair a few times, hoping to calm down.

My reaction confused me. I wasn’t sure why I was panicking. All I did was break up with her. I’d broken up with a ton of girls. Sure, they would be hurt and angry. Hell, a few even threw things at me, but none of them ever killed themselves. I thought back to last night and the way her eyes looked at me just before I rushed out of her room. They were haunted with loneliness and the desperate need for a connection to someone. It was a look I knew too well. After all, I saw it in the mirror every day. I had a feeling breaking up with Becca was going to impact her more than anyone else, and still, I just turned away. I abandoned her just like I had been all my life and just like my fucking parents, I kept walking.

With my face buried in my palms, my body trembled as I tried to remember if anyone saw me come out of her room last night. I wondered if the police would want to question me.

Christ, what if my parents find out.

I took in several deep breaths and tried to think rationally. I didn’t cause her to do this. I had no idea she was mental. I glanced up, looking across the room at the chair that was stacked with folded laundry. Laundry that Becca had done yesterday. The panic in my chest turned into a dull ache as I thought about the times she was here, cooking and cleaning. She never asked for anything from me, not even to return the “I love you.” No one had ever told me they loved me before. This young girl, who had never harmed me, was the first, and I acted as if her words were meaningless. Not being wanted by someone you love is the worst feeling in the world. It makes you feel as if your very existence is pointless. I kept telling myself that I didn’t kill Becca, but unfortunately, I kept feeling like I did.