Chapter 3
Carolyn watched him walk out the door and raised her hand to wave. She’d never even gotten his name, she realized. Would he call? Would she ever see him again? Could go either way. Usually, she had a better sense of these things. Could tell whether a guy was interested from the start.
He’d been looking at her all night. Since he walked in the door, almost. But he hadn’t come over. And the sadness in his eyes made her heart hurt every time he looked at her. That’s why she finally went over to him. She didn’t usually do things like that. Approach a man first. She always let him make the first move, but something about him and the look in his eyes moved her forward, toward him.
And when they’d started talking, it was immediate. She saw his raw pain and the ache in his eyes ignited her own. She wanted to hug him and find some way to make him feel better. But he was also closed off. Numb from the pain. She remembered that feeling from when her dad died. How letting in anything meant you had let in everything. And how it was so much easier to keep it all out.
Well, maybe he would call. Maybe he wouldn’t.
“I’m bored,” Mikaela said, “Ready to head out?”
“Sure. I drank enough for one night.”
They left the bar arm in arm, walking back to their dorm.
“Too bad he didn’t come over,” Mikaela said.
“Who?”
“Oh, come on. Big hottie? I saw you checking him out. The one you went to talk to.”
Carolyn shrugged. “We’ll see if he calls. What’s the plan for tonight?”
“Hmm. Netflix and ice cream?”
“I like it.”
Campus was nearly empty this time of year. It was early summer and only a few classes were in session. She was taking classes all summer, just like her roommate, to get done their program faster. For her, it was also to avoid having no place to go for a few months.
They got back to their dorm room and put on the next episode of Gilmore Girls. Carolyn picked up her science book and started reading her homework for the weekend. She had a paper due in a few days and needed to get started on it.
As she read, she found her thoughts drifting back to the man from the bar. What was he doing now? Was he okay? Would he call? Maybe she should have gotten his number instead.
Well, she couldn’t afford to lose focus now. She would work on her paper and not think about him and that was that. She had to work tomorrow anyway.
After an hour of studying, her phone rang. She reached over and snatched it up. Mikaela raised her eyebrows at her from across the room. But when she looked at it, it wasn’t an unknown number. It was her ex.
She sighed and threw the phone down. A minute later, it beeped with a voice mail. She shouldn’t listen to it. Knew she should just hit delete and be done with it. But what if it was somehow important?
She pressed the button to hear the message. “Carolyn, baby, it’s me. I’m not drunk, I swear.” She rolled her eyes. He was. He only ever claimed to not be drunk when he was drunk. “I just wanted to say I miss you. I think you should come back home. I mean, no, I know you’re at school and stuff, but when you’re done. Give me another chance. I know your mom misses having you home. My family misses you, too. Please. I love you. We can make this work, I promise. It won’t be anything like last time.”
Right. Sam was always full of promises that he never kept and creative half truths. Like just now, for example. Maybe he wasn’t drunk. It might not be a lie. But, he was likely high and had also been drinking. So, technically, he was telling the truth saying he wasn’t drunk, but it didn’t matter much because he was still messed up on something.
Sam called her like this often. She’d been at school a year and a half. After high school, she’d gone to community college for a few years to make things cheaper. Now that she was far away from him, Sam couldn’t take it. Of course, he never knew she was going to leave to go to school. That wasn’t part of the plan until things started going badly between them. Then it had become a way to get away from him.
He still called about once a month when she was lucky, more often when she wasn’t. She’d thought to block his number or change it, but every once in a while, he called and was so messed up, she had to call his mother or sister to go get him so he didn’t drive drunk and kill himself or someone. She was afraid that blocking him would end up hurting him or someone else.
But she also wanted him to leave her alone. She was done with him. She wouldn’t be going back. She was sick of his phone calls and obscene reactions if she posted online photos of her with a guy. That had been a fun night the night she’d updated her relationship status and added a pic. And that relationship had ended partially because he was so freaked out over Sam’s reaction.
For now, she just refused to answer his calls, kept him blocked online, and if his messages sounded particularly bad, she called or texted his sister to check on him. That was all she was willing to do at this point.
“Your ex?” Mikaela asked.
“Yes.”
“Man. I thought it was going to be big hottie.”
“Yeah. I hoped so, too.”
She picked up her book again and started taking notes as the next episode came on. By the time they’d watched three episodes and were ready for bed, she had the entire outline of her paper done and was in good shape.
Weeks had gone by and she hadn’t heard from the guy at the bar. She figured he wasn’t going to call. Maybe had lost her number. Either way, she’d stopped hoping every time the phone rang and had stopped thinking about him.
So, when her phone rang at midnight one Friday night, the last person she expected was him. She only glanced at her phone, assuming it was going to be Sam. But the number was unknown to her and it was a local number. Could he really be calling, or was this a wrong number?
“Hello?” she said warily.
“Is this… Carolyn?”
“Yes.”
“This is Gabe. From the bar.”
Her heart jumped. It was him. And now she had his name. “Hi Gabe from the bar.”
“Sorry to call so late. Can you talk?”
“Sure. How have you been? Holding it together or are you falling apart like I did for about two years?”
He breathed hard into the phone. “Falling apart.”
“Yeah? What’s going on? You drinking?”
“Yeah.” He gave a humorless chuckle. “Is it that obvious?”
“No, it’s not that. I met you in a bar though. So, I figured you were the drown-your-sorrows type. How often are you getting drunk?”
“Every day.”
She made an involuntary pained face. He was on a bad path. One she knew too well. She’d been down it herself. So had Sam. And, in fact, she’d met Sam on that downward spiral. Only problem was, she’d gotten out. He hadn’t.
“And when you get drunk every day, are you still functioning? Going to work or whatever? What do you do anyway?”
“I’m a football player. I’m supposed to be in pro training camp. They gave me time off when Austin died, but I should have been back weeks ago. I think… I think I’m blowing it, Carolyn.”
He was crying. She could hear it in his voice and his quiet sniffles. Her heart ached. She hoped she said the right things to him.
“Gabe. It’s going to be okay. The pros. That’s pretty serious. You must be one hell of a football player.”
“It’s the new shifter league. I was supposed to be the starting quarterback. I don’t think that’s going to happen, though.”
Her mouth hung open. A shifter? She’d never known a shifter before. They usually didn’t just blurt it out like that. Either he was that drunk or just didn’t care. “I should have guessed you were a shifter or a football player, big as you are. Makes sense you’re both. I don’t know a ton about football, but a starting quarterback is a big deal, right?”
“Yeah. One of the biggest.”
“Why do you think you’re blowing it?”
“I haven’t made it to training. Coach keeps calling me and telling me I have to get back or they’re going to give up my spot. I think he’s giving up on me.”
“What else is going on?”
“What do you mean?” She heard him sniffle again, like he was trying to clear his nose.
“What other things have you given up? What else is falling apart?” She remembered how she’d dropped out of school, had stopped hanging out with her friends. Had given up dancing and sewing. Everything she loved. The things that made her feel alive and happy.
“Everything,” he said in a near whisper.
“Like?”
“All I do is sleep or drink. I go out and drink sometimes, but I think my friends are even getting sick of it. I got into a fight the other day.”
“You sound like you’re a total mess.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” He sounded slightly agitated. How drunk was he right now?
“Not at all. I’m just stating a fact. Do you see it? Do you see how your life is falling apart?”
“Yes. Why do you think I called you?”
“Good,” she said. “I just wanted to make sure. If you don’t see it, there’s nothing you can do about it. But if you see it, then you can. Are you ready to put your life back together?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think I can. I think it’s too late.”
“It’s not. Where are you right now? Home or out drinking somewhere?”
“Umm…”
“Gabe? Do you know where you are?”
“Someone’s house. It’s a party. I’m in the bathroom upstairs.”
Something in his words made her heart race. This wasn’t right. Something wasn’t right about this, but she wasn’t sure what. Pure intuition had her on alert. “Okay. What’s in the bathroom with you?”
“Lots of things.”
“Have you taken any of them? Like pills or anything?”
There was a long pause and she started to panic. She was out of bed, pulling on her clothes with one hand while holding the phone with the other.
“Gabe? Have you taken anything?”
“No,” he said finally. “But I…”
“What?”
“I have this razor blade.”
“Put it down. Where are you? Like what city, do you know?”
“Umm… I didn’t drive.”
Well, that was good. “Do you have a smart phone? Who are you with?”
“Yeah. My friend Ryan. He’s somewhere. Probably with Rachel in a bedroom, I don’t know. He doesn’t know I’m in here. I couldn’t find him. That’s why I called you. I don’t know what else to do.”
He’d started crying again and her mind was spinning. What could she do? Was this going to work?
“Okay, go to your map on your phone. Hold your thumb on the dot. It should tell you an address.”
“Yeah.” He gave her the address.
She grabbed her keys, shoved her feet into flip flops, and ran out the door. She drove with one hand on her phone and the other on the steering wheel, panicking. She didn’t know how close he was or what might happen. All she knew was she had to get to him. And there was little time.
“Tell me your favorite childhood story, Gabe. One about you and Austin.” She wanted to keep him talking, keep him focused on happy things. At least until she could get to him.
“We used to go fishing a lot.”
“Where?”
“This pond near my parent’s house. One time, Austin fell in. He was really little. My dad had to shift into bear form and swim out to him. You know bears are really good swimmers? And then, he grabbed Austin in his teeth and swam him back to the dock. He was all cold and wet.”
“Then what happened?”
“Nothing really. My dad shook out and he kinda wrapped Austin in a bear hug.” He started to laugh. “You know what I mean. But he warmed him up. We kept trying to catch fish with a pole, but my dad just walked out into the water, still in bear form, and reached in and grabbed the fish right out of the water.”
“I’ve seen bears do that on TV.” She turned onto the street he was supposed to be on. “Can you do all the things bears can do? Or are there differences? I’ve never known a shifter before.”
“We’re pretty much the same. Bears don’t shift into humans, though.”
“Right, no, I didn’t think they did.” She chuckled.
“No. Right.”
“I think I’m here. There are cars and stuff out front along the street. The blue house?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is there a window? Can you look outside?” She heard some shuffling.
“It’s just trees.”
“Oh. You must be around the back.” She walked beside the house, to the back yard, where a few couples stood talking. She looked up and saw a light on. “Do you see me?”
A large shadow covered the window. It had to be him. She waved her arm.
“I think so.”
“I’m coming up.”
She went into the house and found the stairs. People were everywhere. Dancing, standing and talking, sitting in corners making out. The music was loud and the kitchen seemed to be full of people cheering each other on to do more shots. No one noticed her come in or go up the stairs.
“Can you open the door?” she asked quietly. She faced a hall of four doors. She thought there was a light coming from under one of them, but wasn’t sure.
The door creaked open slightly and he blinked at her. She hung up the phone and put it in her pocket. Then she stepped into the bathroom, closed the door behind her, and drew him into a tight hug.
He shook as he held her. They stayed in that embrace for a long time. She didn’t move away from him, didn’t try to end it, though her ribs were hurting. It was nothing if it gave him comfort right then. When he let go, he looked at her.
“Why did you come?”
“For you. Because I’ve been where you are and worse. I didn’t want to see you go through that.”
She walked over to the sink and saw the razor blade sitting on the counter. It was clean. He hadn’t cut himself. She put it in the cabinet and turned back to him.
“Can we get out of here?” she asked.
“I don’t have a car.” He looked dazed. Maybe he was on pills more than he was drunk. His words didn’t have the drunken slur, but he looked half asleep.
“I do,” she said. “I’ll take you home.”
She grabbed his hand and led him from the room. He came slowly behind her, lumbering with his heavy feet. She took the stairs slower, not wanting him to fall. At the bottom of the steps, she turned to him.
“Do you know where Ryan is?”
He looked around the landing and shook his head.
“Get out your phone and text him that I’m taking you home so he doesn’t worry or wait for you.”
He took out his phone and started punching the message. He put his phone back and looked at her expectantly.
She reached out her hand and took his again, leading him to her car. When they got in, she asked, “Can you get there from here? Or do we need the GPS?”
He scrunched his face in thought for a moment. She took out her phone and got his address, then followed the directions.
It took only a few minutes to get to his house. She walked him to the door.
“Are you coming in?” he asked.
“Depends. What are you going to do if I don’t?”
He blinked at her and didn’t answer. She didn’t know if he didn’t know what he was going to do or didn’t want to tell her. But she felt like he shouldn’t be alone right now. Though she hardly knew him, she opened the door and went inside, looking back to him to follow her in.
“Do you live alone?” she asked.
He shook his head. “My roommates are probably sleeping.”
“Then we better go to your room.”
He led her down a hall and into a bedroom, walking in and turning on a dim lamp by the bed. She closed the door and sat down in the chair from his desk, sitting backwards so she could face him.
“Were you going to kill yourself?” she asked. “I almost did after my dad.”
He sat on the edge of the bed, facing her, mere feet from her. “I thought about it. It seems so much easier.”
She didn’t miss the present tense. He still thought it was easier. “You’re right. It is. And your parents just lost a son, so it should be nothing for them to get over losing their other son. Now’s the time to do it, really, while everyone is still grieving. That way they can do it all at once.”
He hung his head and wouldn’t look at her.
“It only seems easy,” she said. “But do you know that people who feel suicidal almost always find that within a few months, or sometimes years, things are better. I know lots of people who wanted to kill themselves at one point and didn’t and are glad about it.”
“I guess.”
“It doesn’t just happen by accident, though. You have to do something about it. What about football? You love it?”
“Completely.”
“Then you have to get back to it. Can you still go back to training or is it too late for that?”
“I think I can. I don’t know. Coach stopped calling a week ago. After he said it was my last chance.”
“Okay, so let’s assume you don’t make the pro training and become a pro. Isn’t there a semi-pro league or something?”
“Yeah. And amateurs.”
“And playing in one of those is better than not playing at all, right?”
He nodded slowly.
“Good. Do you have a job, or is that your job?”
“Football is my job.”
“Wow.” She stopped for a moment. “That’s really cool.”
He looked up at her with slight surprise on his face.
“I mean it, Gabe. That’s huge. Pro ball? That’s serious. How many people would kill for that ability? And the starting quarterback? That’s awesome.”
He shrugged.
“You have so much to live for. Your parents need you. The team needs you. Do you have a girlfriend or anything?”
He shook his head.
“Okay, well, someone out there wants to be. And whoever she is, she needs you, too. You have your whole life ahead of you. You’re, what, twenty-eight?”
“Twenty-six.”
“You’re so young. Think about all you could do. Play football for a few years, then find some awesome career being a coach or teaching gym class or something. Who knows. What would you do when you can’t play ball anymore?”
“I don’t know. I hope I’d be a dad by then and have a family. I should be able to play for at least ten years. Maybe more. Coaching could be fun. I don’t really know.”
“So, a wife, kids, coaching. That sounds like a pretty sweet life. I’m sure by that point, you’d be so famous, you’d get to do guest appearances and stuff, too.”
“Yeah.”
“The thing is. You won’t get any of it.”
He pulled his eyebrows together and looked at her.
“If you give up now, or if you kill yourself, you won’t get any of it. It’s not easy. You have to do the work.”
“I know.”
“Are you ready to?”
He covered his eyes with his hand. “It’s just so hard. Most days, I think, I’m going to get up and go for a run, or go to training, then I get out of bed and the pain just hits me and I can’t…”
His voice faded as he started to cry again. She moved to sit beside him, putting her arm around him.
“Gabe, you lost your brother and that’s going to hurt for a long time. It’s never going to stop hurting, but you’ll get used to the pain. It’ll become more manageable. Trust me. It’s not going to be easy, but few things in life are. Is it easy to become a pro football player?”
He shook his head.
“But you did it. You did a really hard thing and you’re good at it. This is just another really hard thing. You can be good at it, too. But you didn’t wake up one day and become a pro player. How long did it take you?”
“Years,” he whispered.
“Years. And you had to practice and train to get there. You didn’t just walk in one day and decide to be a pro player and do it. You had to decide to do it. You had to learn the game, you had to practice and train and get better. But you got there. This is just like that. You’re going to have to decide to go on. Then, you have to learn how and practice every day to get good at it. Just like football. The more you do it, the better you get. If you give up now, then you might as well end your life because you’re just as dead as your brother. I’m sure he’s looking down on you right now. Do you think he’d be happy about what you’re doing with your life?”
“He’d be pissed.”
“Is anyone happy with your life at the moment?”
“No,” he said. “Especially not me.”
“So, what’s your decision?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you going to keep living your life in a way that makes everyone unhappy, or are you going to decide to make a change? To learn how to go on?”
He sat for a long time, thinking. “Where do I even start?”
“Start right now. What can you do right now to make things better?”
He lifted his head to meet her gaze. He looked for a long time into her eyes, then he leaned toward her, slipping a hand to the back of her neck. She leaned toward him, like she was drawn to him. She closed her eyes and felt his lips touch hers.
He moved his mouth against hers, parting her lips and slipping his tongue gently between them. She pressed herself closer toward him, letting her hand move to the back of his head. He turned his body more to face her, his kiss becoming more fervent with every second.
He paused for a second, pressing his forehead against hers. “This is making my life better.”
She smiled and pressed her lips to his again.