Brandon
I watch Julie leave with some guy from the other side of the street. Oliver isn’t here—or at least he’s not walking outside with her. I can’t imagine he’d be letting Julie waltz around with another man either. I’m sitting in my car—in the shadows—and I hope her psycho brother doesn’t catch me out here.
Shit. There’s her brother.
He runs out of the house, waving his fist in the air. The guy that Julie is with protects her by putting his arm in front of her as a shield. As they have words on the front lawn, I swear I think her brother sees me lurking, but he doesn’t do anything about it. When Julie’s heard enough, she speeds off with the mystery guy—and even though it’s not the great and powerful Oliver Jackson, I get pissed off. By the time I drive back home, I’m fuming with anger and frustration. I heard everything they fucking said, and I don’t like anything I just learned.
None of the lights inside are on, but I don’t care. I’m so pissed that I make it a point to create as much noise as I can opening the front door, because I want Heather to wake up and fight with me. I need to let everything out on someone.
I make louder noises in the kitchen and I notice her bedroom light come on. I want to fight with her—I need somewhere to put my anger besides inside of me. Heather doesn’t deserve that, but she knew what she signed up for.
When she opens the door, the light billows into the dark hallway, and I smile because I know I’m about to get the satisfaction I’m looking for.
Here it comes.
I grab a beer from the fridge and open it. The liquid is so cold on my lips that it actually chills my anger for a few seconds. I sip it and try to come to a truthful realization about my relationship with Julie: I don’t have one anymore.
I hear Heather’s small feet walk slowly toward the kitchen and stop. She tries to hold her breath in hopes that I won’t hear her, but I know she’s there. “Come in here,” I demand, seeing her faint shadow jump a little. She peeks her head in through the doorway; her shiny, dark hair falls around her neck like silk strands of black licorice. “I said come in here.” My voice is heavy with frustration.
“Are you okay?” she snaps at me. “It’s pretty late to be making all this noise.”
I scoff. “It’s like ten.”
She crosses her arms and bites her bottom lip, examining the way I’m chugging beer down one by one and throwing the bottles away. She isn’t impressed by how many I can throw back, but I don’t care about anything except my release right now.
“Are you drunk?” she whispers, like drinking is a sin.
I guzzle the rest of the third one, throw it away, and grab another one. “Are you my mother?” I growl, opening the bottle.
Horror paints her face and I feel bad; I want to make her pain go away because I’m the one who caused it. I can see the hurt in her eyes—the same hurt I would see in Julie’s eyes for years whenever I put her down. Julie was always good to me, and Heather hasn’t done anything wrong. I guess I’m just hardwired to be an asshole, and there’s not much I can do to stop it besides try to suppress it.
“I’m going back to bed.” She shakes her head and turns to leave. For a second, I think I’m going to let myself watch her walk away. The deeper I think about it, the more I want control over her. I throw the bottle away and breathe in deep, making sure she hasn’t left yet. I grab her arm and pull her around to face me. Her eyes are scared, so I let her go, but she doesn’t run from me or try to push me away.
She likes it.
She loves the thrill; she’ll like fighting just as much as I do, and this is going to end up in much bigger fireworks than the ones I had with Julie.
Maybe I’ve met my match, then.
“You shouldn’t grab people like that. You could seriously hurt someone with that grip you have, Incredible Hulk.” She rubs her arm and glares at me with disgust. “You could have hurt me, and then I’d have to kick your ass.”
The fragility in her voice amuses me; I can see her fear dripping from her tongue as she squares her shoulders when I laugh. “You—kick my ass? I don’t think so, Paris Hilton.”
She scoffs and puts her hands on her hips, pretending to be offended. But I can see the sparkle in her eyes. “Well, I would try.”
Heather’s freshness makes me smile. I broke Julie down so much that she eventually stopped fighting back, but not Heather. She looks like she thrives on a challenge. This might eventually be a problem for us since I like to fight too. Two volcanos don’t make a rainbow—that’s just common sense.
“Speaking of sleeping with me—”
She laughs. “I never said I was sleeping with you.”
I grin and slip my hands around her small waist, making her drop her arms to her sides. “Well, let’s stop talking and make that happen. It’s been a long and frustrating night. I could use a release.”
She makes a disgusted noise. “I told you no sex and I mean no sex.”
“I didn’t think you were serious.” I try to smile but end up frowning instead. “What’s your problem?”
“My problem? Are you serious right now? What happened to that sweet guy from the past few days? I mean, you leave for half a day and when you come back, you’re all pissed off and taking it out on me.”
Smart girl.
“Just stop!” I yell at her. “I think you have me mixed up with Saint Oliver. I never said I was sweet and I never said I would treat you kindly. If anything, you should be thankful that I picked your sorry ass up from that hotel and gave you a real home.” I’m growling at her and I want to rip her clothes off. “What part of that don’t you understand?”
Her eyes get glassy. Oh, please don’t cry.
“I think I better leave.” She sniffles and runs from me, shutting her bedroom door behind her. I hear her sobbing from where I stand, frozen in place. What the hell is wrong with me? I know I can have her if I really want her—what’s holding me back?
She’s not Julie.
I don’t bother knocking because I don’t care if she wants to cry in private. I know it’s my fault she’s in hysterics, and I actually feel bad about it. I try and find a little softness in myself as I stand in the open doorway and she refuses to look at me.
“Hey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken things out on you. I’m just…angry.” I watch the light return to her eyes as she wipes them; all she wanted was an apology.
I have to do better. I have to stop thinking about Julie and start thinking about Heather. I have to stop wanting Julie if I’m ever going to have a normal life again.
Heather leans toward me and it makes me nervous. All she wants is someone to validate her and make her feel special again—make her feel worthy of spending the time making herself look the way she does. I can’t hide the fact that I want her; the soft bounces of her small, perky tits taunt me as I walk to her and take her hand in mine. “Forgive me?”
She clutches my hand tighter. “I forgive you. I know what it’s like to be in love with someone you can’t have.”
My eyes widen because she called me out. That’s not how I thought this would turn out, but I find myself not wanting to fight anymore. I think about her feelings—which is odd for me to even admit to myself. My fingers find her tears and I wipe them away. I know she can see right through me. “I’m still in love with Julie,” I say to her. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t love you too.”
“I found her things upstairs.”
I want to yell at her. “Okay, and what do you think about that?”
She shrugs. “I can handle it.”
I laugh then snap my mouth shut. “You seem like a woman who doesn’t like to share.”
She turns toward me and I let her crawl into my lap. Her legs are bony and jab into my thighs, but I try to think of something else. Once she nestles in and finds warmth, I hear her soft breathing and it slows the world down around me.
“I don’t like to share,” she says. “I probably will get tired of it eventually. You’ll have to choose at some point. You’ll have to answer to yourself if you want to keep chasing a ghost.”
“Julie isn’t a ghost.”
“Your relationship is. You have to know how in love Oliver and Julie are, right? She isn’t going to leave him, no matter what you have up your sleeve.” There’s thick sadness in her voice and I know she’s still pining over Oliver just as much as I am for Julie. All I can do right now is mend this present moment with her and hold her for as long as she wants me to.
I just want to feel normal again.
I smile.
Normal.
My life was normal.
Now, my life is…a disaster.
“I can’t be Julie for you just like you can’t be Oliver for me.” I cringe when she says his name. I overheard Randy and Julie yelling in their front yard before I left, and I debate on whether to tell Heather about his accident. I don’t want her to run to him too.
I rub my chin and her eyes lock on mine. “I have something to tell you about where I was tonight.”
Should I tell her everything? Even the parts before Oliver’s crash?
No, stick to the basics.
“I was at Julie’s.” I watch her face, but she doesn’t cry. “I went over there to see her, but she was with some other guy and found out something bad about Oliver.” I think about the entire scene again, leaving out some parts so she won’t be as pissed. “Did you know that Julie is pregnant? Or she might be…I’m not exactly sure.”
Her jaw drops. “No, I didn’t know that.” The color drains from her face as she processes the information.
“Then I guess something else happened.” I wait for her to climb out of my lap, but she snuggles in deeper. “He was in a car accident and he’s in the hospital.”
There.
Now, what are you going to do?
Are you going to leave me, or are you going to stay?
Your move.