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Authors: Chelsea M. Cameron

Tags: #New Adult, #Contemporary Romance

Slowly We Trust (8 page)

BOOK: Slowly We Trust
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“Come on, Aud. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” She went to the door and held it open for me.

Once again, I had two options, but I was pretty sure Trish could outrun me. She might be shorter, but I was wearing heeled boots.

“Come on, come on. Aren’t you just a little bit curious?” I sighed and stepped away from the car.

“Fine. But I’m not getting a tattoo or piercing anything. No matter what. I mean it.” I pointed my finger at her to make my point.

“You’re just here for moral support. Got it.” She nodded and I walked slowly into the shop. Okay, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. The floor was tiled in black and white squares and it was surprisingly bright, like a doctor’s office. A girl with black and blonde hair filed her nails as she sat behind the desk right next to the door. She looked up at us as the door closed.

“Can I help—Oh, hey Trish. What can we do for you?” Obviously, Trish had been here before, which I knew had to be true.

“Hey Madeline. Um, I think I’m going to do my tragus. Is Magnus in?” A man poked his head from the open doorway right behind the desk.

“Did I hear my name?” He smiled when he saw Trish and she walked behind the desk and gave him a hug.

“And you brought a friend! You know you get ten percent off when you refer someone.” He wiggled his black eyebrows, one pierced twice. I couldn’t count the amount of other piercings that adorned his face, and his t-shirt showed sleeves of tattoos. He was quite a spectacle. I tried not to stare too much.

“Not this one, she’s a virgin.” Trish came back over and put her arm around me.

“Um, standing right here,” I said. Trish thought I was a virgin, based on the stories I’d told her, but that didn’t mean I wanted her telling anyone within hearing distance about my sexual history.

“I mean a body modification virgin. Single holes in your ears don’t really count.” I reached up and touched my earlobes. My mom had gotten them done when I was a baby, so I didn’t even have any memory of it. Still, that didn’t mean I wanted a needle going through my body just for the sake of adornment.

Magnus was still staring at me and then he cleared his throat.

“So, what can I do for you, Trish?”

“Tragus?” she said, pointing to her left ear. “I want to do both, but I don’t want to do them at once.” Magnus stepped around the table as conversation from the other side of the room and the buzz of a tattoo machine distracted me for a second.

Magnus inspected Trish’s ear and then led her into the back of the shop, where there was a room with what looked like a dentist’s chair in it, along with a case of various rings and bars for piercings. Some were so large they made me shudder.

Trish hopped into the chair and Magnus put on a set of gloves and pulled out a metal tray, covered it with a cloth and started getting out his tools.

“Don’t you just do it with a gun?” I asked. Magnus gave me a look as if I’d uttered a scandalous curse word.

“Hell no. Do you know those guns can shatter your ear cartilage? Not to mention those things are completely unsanitary.” I gave Trish a look as Magnus got out a bag with a little hoop in it and disinfected it.

Sorry I asked.

Magnus cleaned and then marked the spot on Trish’s ear before holding a mirror up to show her. She agreed on the placement and then held her hand out. I took it and she stared up at the ceiling. Magnus put a clamp on the spot and then picked up what looked like a large sewing needle. Dear God. Was he really going to use that?

“Okay, take a deep breath for me.” Trish did so. “And let it out,” he said as he pushed the needle through the spot.

“Fuck!” Trish said, clenching my hand and squeezing her eyes shut.

“And now I’m going to put the jewelry in. Another deep breath.” She winced when he put the hoop through her ear and then put a little ball in it and used pliers to close the hoop.

“And you’re done.” Trish’s pupils were a little dilated and her hand shook in my grip. I tried to get her to let go, but she wouldn’t.

“Trish?” I said, looking down at our joined hands. “Losing circulation.”

“Oh, sorry.” She unclamped her hand from mine and it was like springing a bear trap. I flexed my hand a few times.

“You okay?” Magnus said, staring into Trish’s eyes. “Sometimes she faints.” He directed that toward me.

“Then why do it?” I asked Magnus.

“Have you ever heard the expression ‘beauty is pain’? I think the opposite is true.” He smiled and patted Trish on the shoulder before giving her a mirror to check out her new piercing. It looked at home with all the other studs in her ear.

“So, how about it? Twenty percent off,” he said to me as Trish stood up on shaky feet.

“You could get second holes in your ears,” Trish said, tugging on my earlobe. I had thought about it before, but didn’t have the guts or the opportunity.

“Live a little, Aud,” Trish said, squeezing my shoulder and winking.

“O-Okay,” I said and before I knew it, I was sitting in the chair and he was cleaning my earlobes and making dots on them. He repeated the process that he’d used with Trish, and before I knew it, I had two new holes in my ears.

“Took it like a champ,” Trish said, as I let go of her hand. “And now that you’ve started, you won’t be able to stop. Trust me. It’s addicting.”

Magnus handed me the mirror and I checked out the delicate crystal studs that now sat right above the pearls I had in my original holes. I was definitely shaky when I got to my feet and Magnus gave me a sheet with instructions on how to care for my ears.

“I’ll help her. I know the drill,” Trish said. “Next stop, first tattoo.” Second holes in my lobes was one thing, but permanently inking my body was something else entirely. I didn’t think I’d ever be ready for that.

Trish ended up paying for my ears, even though I told her not to. She hugged Magnus again and he told me to come back to him anytime.

My ears had started burning and they pulsed with pain.

“Ow,” I said, touching my ear gingerly.

“Don’t touch. That’s the first rule. And I’ll give you some of my cleaning stuff for them. How do you feel, Wild Woman?” I didn’t exactly feel like a wild woman.

“I don’t know,” I said. “But I’m really hungry right now.”

“Then let’s get you something to eat.”

 

 

 

 

 

“Okay, Mr. Mopey-pants. You need sun. And a shower,” Simon said, yanking the blankets off my bed and pulling up the venetian blinds.

The sun was cruel. I closed my eyes against it and moaned.

Simon sat down on the edge of my bed.

“I know that you’re bound to be a little depressed right now. That’s only natural, but you’ve sunk a little too low for . . . well, you. You didn’t act like this with Kandy.”

“Audrey isn’t Kandy,” I mumbled. “Not even close.” Kandy had been a nice girl, and I had cared for her, but she wasn’t
the
girl. And all I could think about when I thought of her was all the things I didn’t like about her. Why the hell had I dated her anyway?

“Come on. It’s time to get up. You’ve missed enough classes and meals and it’s not healthy anymore. Come on, get up.” Simon’s voice was sharp, a tone I’d never heard before. It made me sit up in surprise.

“Now get your ass out of bed before I drag you. Go!” He pointed to the door as he yelled, his face dark as a storm.

Wow. I must be really bad if Simon was putting his mean face on. I ran my fingers through my hair. Or at least I tried to. It was so tangled that the task was impossible. I could also smell the shirt I was wearing, and it wasn’t a good thing.

Okay, so I was beyond disgusting. I’d crossed over to Funkville, USA, population: Me.

“I’ll go shower.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Simon said, collapsing on his bed. “I don’t like being the bad cop. But seriously, you were getting disgusting. I was one day away from carrying you to the shower and shoving you in. Thanks for not making me do that.”

“You’re welcome.” I gathered up some fresh clothes and my shower stuff and headed for the bathroom.

I stood for a long time under the running water, just thinking.

I hadn’t seen or talked to Audrey in a week. Not once. She’d asked me to leave her alone, so I was going to respect that. No starting over, no being just friends. Quitting, period.

I couldn’t remember the last time my life had sucked this much, and it wasn’t just the absence of Audrey that made it that way. Lottie was also having a hard time, and that made it so much worse.

Not just a hard time, an impossible time. She tried to split her time between me and Audrey, giving us both equal visitation, but it was wearing on her. The other problem was that she didn’t feel like she could talk about Audrey in my presence, or comment on her existence in any way. I was sure she did the same thing when she saw Audrey. I’d asked her to stop, but she wouldn’t. My stubborn sister. She loved both of us and she was determined to stay bonded with each of us. Well, she didn’t really have a choice where I was concerned, but she also refused to abandon her friend. Not that I blamed her.

I asked Simon about it when Lottie wasn’t around. Our group had fractured a little bit now that Lottie, Katie and Trish sometimes spent nights with Audrey, leaving “the boys” to fend for ourselves. It was the most time I’d spent apart from Lottie at college, and it felt unnatural. I was always looking for her, or waiting for her to arrive, or turning to tell her something, assuming she was still beside me.

It was like missing half of my body.

I shook my head and remembered that I needed to wash my hair. I still couldn’t get my hands through it.

I should just cut it. I finished my shower and went back to my room and called Lottie.

“Hey, you free this afternoon? I really need that haircut.”

“Yeah, I can absolutely do that for you.” I could hear her walking and then a door closing. That probably meant she was somewhere with Audrey. Thinking her name still made a jolt of pain go through me. I wondered how long it would take for that to subside. If I’d ever be able to see her again and not feel the way I currently felt.

“So I’ll see you in a few hours?” I said, finally remembering that I was on the phone with Lottie.

“I’ll come to you.”

I hung up and Simon threw my tennis racket at me. Good thing I had decent reflexes and I caught it before it hit me in the face.

“Tennis, anyone?” Simon said, holding up my spare racket and made a few practice swings.

“Tennis? Really?”

“Well, if you get sassy with me, I can beat you with the racket, so it’s a win-win.” I gave him a look, but got up and went to change into more athletic clothing.

 

 

“I completely forgot that the word love is in this game. My bad. But still, it never hurts to hit a few balls, if you know what I mean,” Simon said with a wink as we took our places across from each other on the court.

“No, actually, I don’t know a whole lot about hitting balls, Simon.”

“Well, you don’t know what you’re missing. Your serve.” He threw a ball at me and I caught it, pointing at him with my racket.

“Enough. Let’s play.” I served first and Simon volleyed back and then I smashed the ball into the court right on the line.

“That was in,” I said.

“Normally, I would argue with you, but I’m afraid you’ll decapitate me in my sleep with that thing, so I’ll let it slide. Fifteen-Love.”

We kept playing, scoring pretty evenly. Simon was no tennis slouch.

“My parents made me take lessons when I was younger. It was one of the approved Wasp activities.” Simon’s parents were hardcore country clubbers, and also jerks who couldn’t seem to accept that their son was, in fact, gay and not just “rebelling” or “going through a phase.” They’d even sent him to one of those creepy camps where they try to un-gay you, but all that had happened was he’d hooked up a lot, so it hadn’t been a completely horrible experience for him.

I won three out of five sets and by the time we were done my shirt was soaked with sweat and my hair was dripping in my eyes. Yeah, I definitely needed that haircut. I was also starving.

“If I don’t eat something, I’m going to pass out,” Simon said as we both wiped our faces with the scratchy towels in the locker room.

“Agreed,” I said as we walked toward the little café located next to the tennis courts on the first level of the fitness center.

Two girls were waiting for smoothies in front of us, and I could feel them checking both of us out.

“Nice day for a workout, isn’t it?” Simon said with a huge smile. If anyone else would have said the same phrase, it would have been corny, but Simon made it work.

He started chatting with them and tried to bring me into the conversation, but I wasn’t in the mood. I was sure these two were perfectly nice and sweet (or maybe not, I didn’t know them), but they weren’t Audrey. If I couldn’t talk to her, I didn’t really see the point in talking to someone else.

I’d apparently abandoned Funkville for Emoville. I could feel Simon trying to draw me out, but I just wasn’t into it. And then there was a voice behind me that made me freeze.

“Hi, Will.” I would have heard her voice across a room full of people shouting.

I could see Simon staring at me, waiting for my reaction.

For a second, I considered ignoring her and pretending she wasn’t there. But I couldn’t ignore her if I tried.

“Hi, Aud.” The sight of her after not seeing her in a week hit me like a punch in the gut.

She had her hair pulled back in a long ponytail and her tank top and shorts hugged her body in a way that made me remember what it was like to feel that body pressed against mine.

“How-how are you?” she said, moving her hand to brush her hair over her shoulder, but forgetting it was up.

Sweaty, currently. Probably didn’t smell all that great. And missing her.

“I’m good. How are you?”

We moved out of the line so we could talk and I heard Simon ordering me a sandwich.

“Good . . . good.” She nodded and clasped her arms in front of her.

Shit, this was awkward.

“I thought you wanted me to leave you alone?” I hoped I didn’t sound like an asshole.

“I know. I do. But we can’t help it if we run into each other from time to time. We can at least be . . . cordial, right? Exchange small talk. Very small talk. Tiny talk. Micro talk.”

“I don’t want to talk about the weather with you, Aud.” That wasn’t necessarily true. I didn’t care what I talked with Audrey about, as long as we were talking.

“I know. I’m sorry. I should have left when I saw you, but . . .”

I took a step closer. “But, what?”

“But . . . nothing. I’m sorry. I need to go.” She turned and rushed away.

“What the hell are you doing?” Simon hissed. “Go after her!”

“Why? She doesn’t want me to.”

Simon shook his head as if I was being extremely stupid.

“She wants you. GO AFTER HER.” He stepped behind me and shoved, so I had no choice but to move forward. I’d seen Audrey disappear down the hall, probably into the locker room. Once I was moving, it was much easier to keep moving in the direction Audrey had gone.

I had one moment of hesitation outside the door to the women’s locker room. It was probably a really bad idea to barge in.

I barged in anyway.

“What the hell?” A woman washing her hands at the sink said. Huh. The women’s room was a lot nicer than the men’s room. What was up with that?

I hurried as fast as I could to look for Audrey without making too many other women upset. I definitely caught a few sans clothes, but I tried to cover my eyes and only stare directly ahead.

I found her leaning against a locker.

“Aud.” Her ponytail whipped as she turned around at the sound of my voice.

“Will! What are you doing in here?”

“I came to find you.” She gaped at me and then grabbed my arm and yanked me toward the door again.

“It’s a good thing I wasn’t just getting into the shower,” she said as soon as we were out in the hallway. “Or maybe you were hoping to catch me?” Her voice became a little flirty, which I wasn’t expecting. But then, this was Audrey. I never knew where her head was.

“If I said no, would you believe me?” I said, smiling a little bit.

“Maybe.”

We breathed in unison for a moment. It was a rush seeing her again; I couldn’t lie about that.

“I’m sorry,” we both said at the same time, which then made us both chuckle.

“We seem to be saying that a lot to each other, don’t we?” I said.

“I don’t know what you’re sorry for, except telling me you loved me right before I said ‘thank you’ and then told you I just wanted to be friends.” Just hearing her talk about it brought it all back.

“Yeah, I kind of try to forget about that. It wasn’t my finest hour.”

She looked down.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. It was pretty romantic, doing it on New Year’s. Any other girl would have been ecstatic.”

“But I didn’t say it to any other girl. I said it to you.” She looked up and for a moment I thought she was going to cry. Instead she bit her lip and looked away from me again.

“Look, I don’t know how to do this, to see you and have everything be okay. Starting over didn’t work and just being friends didn’t work and staying apart didn’t work, at least for me,” she said.

I couldn’t lie, I’d been dying to know how she’d been doing since I’d seen her last.

“It hasn’t been great for me either.”

She took a deep breath.

“I missed you. And being with everyone else.”

BOOK: Slowly We Trust
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