Storm: Book 2 (4 page)

“Okay. Listen. That girl. I
did
have sex with her.”

“Oh that makes me feel much better,” I say flicking my gaze upwards at him.

“Let me finish.” His face is stern and he stands up, facing me. “She was before you. Coach really asked me to train her. I let things cross the line and go where it shouldn’t have gone. But that was before you. It was just one time. A mistake. She doesn’t want to let it go even after the dozens of times I’ve told her there’s nothing and will be nothing between us.”

I continue to listen, partially wavering on if he’s actually being sincere and waiting for him to put his foot his foot in his mouth, like most boys do when they continue to talk.

“She means nothing. Brynn, you know I wouldn’t disrespect you like that. Inviting another girl over while you’re there? Really? You know I’m better than that. Give me that much.” He places the fingertips on my knee making me remember yesterday and how he held me in his arms. I felt safe. The safest I’ve felt in a long time.

“Why should I believe you? Saying, ‘it’s not what you think’ is like the biggest cop out of all time.”

His eyebrows scrunch together, seemingly trying to find the right words to say.

“Because a beautiful person like you deserves much more than to be lied to. Because everything I’ve done and shown to you up to that point has been honest and real. Why would I stop being that now?”

He has a point. I’ve never met someone more selfless. He’s given himself to me in ways no one else has before. His time, his energy. And he’s asked nothing in return. My stern face crumbles, softening under his gaze. His hand creeps up my leg, resting on top of my hand.

“What in God’s name did you see in her? She’s not your type at all.” I slap his knee.

He smiles weakly. Something isn’t right with him.

“You like girls with beefy legs and long curly hair.”

He laughs, but then quickly turns solemn again, his jaw hardening. “Brynn, just know that I think you’re a beautiful person, inside and out and I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

I nod. “And that’s why we can’t be together.”

My breath hitches. Wait. I don’t think…I
know
I heard that wrong. It feels like I got punched in the gut.

“Chase, I don’t understand. Why would you say that? Please tell me.” There’s no life in my voice. It’s raw and shaky.

He smoothes the legs of his shorts and looks up at the sky.

“There’s no easy way to say this.”

“Then don’t say it. Just don’t say it.” Everything with me is always too good to be true. Just as I’m on the edge of things looking brighter for me, the rug is always pulled out from under me.

“I can’t let things get serious between me and you. He exhales and his green eyes turn cold, distant. “My past…I can’t let you get involved with me.”

“Everybody has a past. Look at my life. I’ve been through hell. I’m still going through it. But you help me see that things
can
get better. Please don’t do this. We can work things out. What can I do? Anything. Please don’t do this to me.”

“Brynn my past—”

“But you’re perfect. There’s nothing wrong with you. You…you—”

“I can’t let you in.”

I stand up flailing my hands and tears stream down my face. I’m shouting and I know I shouldn’t be. This isn’t the place for it.

“Don’t do this to me.” I stop my foot down on the concrete.

“I can’t let you get mixed up in my life.” He looks off into the distance. “My so-called life.”

I grab his hand. “We can work it out…together.” My voice is weak, trying to be demanding, but it’s too shrill from the pain of hearing his words.

“I have secrets Brynn. With everything that you’ve gone through recently…to get you caught up with me and have you fall apart, I couldn’t live with myself if you got wrapped up in this mess. I’m not who you think I am.”

“Just what are you saying? Tell me what happened. Please just tell me. I won’t judge you. You know that.”

He stands up and hauls his book bag over his shoulder. “Brynn. I care about you too much to have you mixed up with someone like me. I’m no good for you.”

“Don’t say that,” I say clutching his hand. He pulls away.

“Please Brynn. Don’t call me anymore.”

He turns from me and walks into the herd of students stampeding to class.

“Chase!” I shout. He doesn’t turn around. “Chase!” I scream louder.

Chapter 5

“Your mom is doing a lot better,” Aunt Vera says. We’re talking over Facetime and in front of me is a bowl of popcorn that I haven’t touched yet. After Chase broke it off with me I can’t seem to eat anything.

“Yeah, I know I just called her a little bit ago. She didn’t answer.” I’m trying my damndest to not break down in tears about Chase. So far I don’t think she can tell.

“She’s sleep I think. But, she’s really in good spirits. Finally out of the hospital.” She stammers, appearing to say something but trying to find the words.

“What’s wrong?”

She sighs. “It’s Robert.”

“Can we please not talk about him?”

“Well, I just thought you should know. He’s being sentenced on charges. The court date is next Thursday.”

That was fast. Good news. Good to know they’re not stringing this along. I feign my interest.

“And?”

“You should go. I think it would be cathartic for you.”

“I don’t want to be in the same room as that man.”

“Well Brynn, I just though you should know. I thought you wanted to know. To, you know…get closure.”

“I’ll get closure when he’s in a casket and not seeing mom anymore.

“Fine by me. I texted you the information anyways.”

“Thanks, but I’ll pass.” I pause. “Aunt Vera, I just want to say thanks for you know—”

“You’re going to have to tell her yourself. I’m not going to keep it to myself. It’s not fair to her.”

Aunt Vera, who got a call from the university hospital about my overdose, said she wouldn’t tell my mom about it as long as I get help and would tell her myself.

“I know. I want her to get better first and then I’ll tell her. I promise.”

“And how are you doing? You taking care of yourself?”

“I’m fine. I’m done with that stuff. Honest. I’m going to a peer group to talk about it soon.”

“Good. I’m not going to act holier than thou and say I didn’t dabble in a few things in my day, but I just know that stuff will end up catching up to in the long run.”

“I know.” I look at the clock. “Can I talk to you later? I need to start studying. Thanks again. If you talk to mom, tell her I love her.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you soon.”

I close my laptop and still can’t get over how Chase dumped me like I was nothing. I reach for my water bottle. It’s empty. Empty like my life. My life is a mess in every way I know possible—even ways I never knew
were
possible. And the only bright spot that I did have, is now gone. That’s my life. Total darkness. I get a sliver of sunshine or a shred of goodness here and there and then it’s back to hopelessness. I only get a taste of what it’s like to feel good. Maybe I should just drop out and live on the beach and learn how to surf. Those people always seem happy. The only person I knew that could help me cope was Chase and now he’s gone. I’m alone. Everyone back home was so proud of me, saying how Los Angeles would be my oyster and this is my big break. I’m disappointing all of them. And LA doesn’t seem like the oyster I thought it would be. I’m at a school with thousands of students in a city of millions of people, and I’ve never felt more alone in my life.

I swallow hard and plop back onto the couch. I grab my psychology textbook and open it to the first page. It’s blank. Just like my life. I stare at page for what seems like hours.

Chapter 6

I’m sweating bullets. I sit in the lounge area next to my dorm lobby, sitting Indian style on throw pillows among a circle of girls discussing issues affecting their lives on campus. One girl speaks about meditation and how it’s helped her with her alcoholism another girl discusses her newfound sexual discovery with another woman. Another thrashes out about the hatred of her mother. I thought this was supposed to a group about upliftment and positivity. Coming here only leaves me deflated.

Ever since I passed by the group a few days ago, it had been gnawing at me to go. I don’t normally do shit like this. I’ve been here for forty-five minutes, listening, bouncing back and forth in my head whether I should speak. What would I say? Would I make a fool out of myself? I don’t know any of these girls. The girl, Amy who is the head of the organization said no words were shared outside of the circle.

I always hated public speaking, but with everything that was happening I had to let shit out before I explode. Or harm myself. Or start using again. I don’t even know why I came. I hate sharing secrets. No one keeps them anyways. Why couldn’t we meet in a more private area? This is the place where guys come to play dominoes and plug up their video games on the big screen television in the corner of the room. A group of guys holding two liters of orange soda and two large pizzas skate pass us in the hallway, burping and calling each other asswipe and douchebag.

I envy them. They look like they don’t have a care in the world. Exactly how college students are supposed to look and feel. On top of the world, with the entire world ahead of them and feeling like they could conquer any obstacle placed in their pathway. Brick walls are placed in my pathway all the time and I can’t break through them. Feels like I just run right into them and then the bricks crumble right on top of me. I just want to be free. I just want the hurt to stop.

I see Amy, the leader of the group, nods her head towards me, urging me to speak. She’s a dirty blonde with cute, black penny loafers and a black wool skirt that was too hot to wear in California at this time of year. I already introduced myself at the beginning. I don’t need to speak anymore.

“It looks like we have a new guest, a new friend who’s joined us.” With both hands she brings up her huge mug of chamomile tea and sips, with the teabag still in the mug. She smiles and gestures over to me with a head nod. “We would love to listen to anything you’d like to share this evening.” Her smile is warm and inviting, comforting. “There’s no compulsion to do so.”

I look around at the other girls. All six of them. They’re all diverse, from all different walks of life. There’s Kim, a girl from Seattle who is also a powerlifter. Sarah, who sits next to me, a redhead from Ireland, is a bubbly, lively thing who’s getting over an addiction to prescription pills. She was the last to speak. All eyes are on me. I pick my nails and I bite my lip knowing if I say my name and start talking I’m going to have to keep going to these things. It’ll just be a headache I just need to get my own head straight before I do any Kumbaya, holding hands, expressing feelings type of crap.

I swallow hard and I decide to dive in.

“I…I’m Brynn,” I say. My voice is shaky. I’m a freshman. Sorry I’m a little nervous.”

Every girl says hello to me in a relaxed, mellow tone.

“Would you like to share anything with us tonight Brynn?” Amy asks in a breathy, airy tone, almost soothing.

I close my eyes and breathe deeply, ready to let everything pour out of my soul. I shut my eyes tighter and my skin flushes hot as flashbacks from that cold backseat pop into my head. Brynn fight the pain. Fight through it. I take another breath. Fear carves up my face.

“I’m sorry. I just hate speaking in front of people,” Each word comes out labored and terse, forcing them off my tongue.

“It’s okay,” Amy says. “Take your time.”

My heart is pummeling my chest as vision after vision of that Friday night in Connor’s backseat plays endlessly through my head. My breathing is sporadic. They’ll think I’m some whore. Some promiscuous girl who had it coming. They don’t know me here. They’re strangers. I haven’t told my own mother, let alone a stranger. This isn’t right.

I bury my face in my hands and breathe loudly through my fingers, resisting every tear that wants to fall from my eyes. I shake my head furiously.

“I just can’t do this. I’m sorry,” I say and run over to the bathroom across the hall.

I splash cold water over my face. “Just say what you have to say and leave,” I say to myself as the water drips off my chin and I look into the mirror. “Just say what’s on your chest and get out. That’s it. You don’t have to do this. No one is forcing you to do this.”

My phone buzzes. It’s a text from Aiden and I ignore it, sliding my phone back in my pocket. I pull my phone out to make sure my eyes served me correctly. That jerk has the nerve to text me after what happened at his office.

The door opens and Amy gingerly walks in with her hands folded below her waist as I have my hands planted on the porcelain sink, droplets of water trailing from my forehead to my jaws drop from the tip of my chin one after the other right down the drain.

“Brynn,” she says, standing to my right, “No one is ashamed of you. It takes a lot of courage to even come to these little meetings.”

“I’m sorry I broke down like that,” I say staring into the drain sucking the water down.

“What are you apologizing for? Whatever happened it’s not you’re fault.”

I nod, looking into the mirror back into my eyes.

“As I always say. There’s no compulsion to speak, but you can’t hold it in forever. We’re not your friends, your family or anyone else. We’re strangers. But there’s one thing we don’t do. We don’t judge. Every young woman in that circle is dealing with issues. Rape, drugs, self esteem issues. No one is bigger than the other. We’re all coming from a place of pain, hurt and looking for a sliver of hope and strength. You’re safe here. You may not be ready now, or next week or next month. But one day, you’ll be ready to speak and it’ll pour out of you. And when it does, we’ll still be here—that shoulder you need to cry on.”

My eyes dart over to her at her reflection in the mirror. I nod as if to say I understand.

These girls are strangers. I don’t need to be here. I can handle this myself. I got this taken care of. She leaves while I plant my hands on the cold sink and just breathe.