Chapter Fifteen: I’d Meant to Sweep You off Your Feet, Not Injure You
Somehow, I surprise myself by surviving Sunday lunch with my dad. He’d bailed on me for our originally scheduled dinner on Friday, and I could not have been more thankful for it. The last thing I need is for either of my parents to say those detested words, the ones every parent is dying to say when reality slaps you in the face: “I told you so.”
Instead I put on my happy, well, relatively happy, face and we went for lunch, minus Travis, to the fanciest restaurant in town. I tried not to play with my food and he tried not to push any buttons that would make me explode. Perhaps Dad convinced himself that I was going through PMS; hence, he just ordered me a large ice cream sundae and we went on with our lives.
“So, how’s everything at school?”
“Good.”
“Yeah? How’s that economics class you were telling me about? Still tough?”
“Pretty much.”
“Well, you don’t seem too worried about it.”
“I’m not.”
The pattern continued for a painful five minutes before he gave up and let me hack at my ice cream. I’m pretty sure that at this point, if someone drew my blood, they would actually find huge chunks of ice cream floating around in my bloodstream.
But, oh well, possible risk of disease aside, I did manage to survive the rest of the day until Travis drove me back to school. I’d learned the important lesson of never leaving my own car behind and being at someone else’s mercy, because my brother took the opportunity to try to lecture me. I’d already beaten myself up enough over how disastrously I’d handled things with Cole that hearing someone else talk about it just made me feel like throwing myself in front of a semi.
Yes, I’d been feeling pretty morbid, and no, I’m not suicidal, just really hurt. Megan and Beth had let me go quite reluctantly, and it sucked knowing that I wouldn’t get to see them until Thanksgiving break, but the grown-up thing to do in this situation is not to hide in my childhood bedroom. I even managed to ditch those cursed Scooby pajamas that got me in trouble in the first place.
Yes, it’s all their fault; maybe they had remnants of Nicole’s voodoo magic on them.
By the time Travis drops me off in front of my dorm, I’m emotionally exhausted. My head hurts from thinking so much about what I’m supposed to do now, and my body’s suffering from the lack of sleep. My brother looks at me with barely concealed pity in his eyes.
“Go talk to him, Tess; I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.”
“I know…I know that if I go and apologize, maybe things will be okay. But I don’t want them to be as they were before. I feel like we were both hurting each other unintentionally, and it needed to come out in the open.”
He sighs. “Well, it is now. Use the opportunity to talk about your problems; that’s the way relationships work. I look at you two sometimes, and it seems like you’ve got everything figured out, that you’re so sure of each other, but then…”
“We screw up just like any other high school couple?”
“Don’t do that; don’t undermine what you have. You guys are lucky to have found each other so soon; what you need to do now is work hard at keeping it.”
I wipe a stray tear off my face and kiss my brother’s cheek. “Hanging out with Beth seems to have made you really smart.”
“Yeah, and I’m telling you that you guys need to talk to each other; now go and do it.”
Nodding to him, I say goodbye to Travis and trudge up the stairs to my dorm, with my duffel lagging behind me. I must come across as a sorry picture; maybe a coat of lip gloss or mascara would have helped.
Thankfully, I don’t run into anyone I know by the time I make it to my room. Quickly unlocking the door, I shuffle inside and collapse on my bed.
“Well…hello to you, too.”
I don’t even open my eyes; I feel so tired and deflated that the only thing I’m capable of at the moment is breathing. I’m probably freaking Sarah out, but she respects the roommate code, never question your roommate’s crazy.
“Hey.”
“I’m assuming the weekend didn’t go as planned.”
I sigh. “Not at all.”
“Well, if it makes you feel better, I fought with my boyfriend, too. Closed the Skype chat right on his face!”
The way she says it makes me laugh because she’s pretending to be tough. Sarah fights with her boyfriend all the time, quiet as she is around other people. They make up within twenty-four hours, so I’m not about to sympathize.
“Wait, how do you know Cole and I fought?”
I sit up straight and look her right in the eyes so that she can’t lie to me. Sarah’s sitting at her desk, book in hand, and looking at me with slight panic.
“Did I say that? How would I know…I just assumed…”
“Sarah, did you talk to Cole?”
She doesn’t take long to break under my rather intimidating stare. “Okay, okay, stop looking at me like that. He stopped by to see if you were back; actually, he came up a couple of times. I didn’t want to pry so I didn’t ask him, but he may have mentioned that you had an argument.”
The fact that he checked up on me makes me happy; the fact that he’s ignoring my texts makes me mad. I’m such a mess right now that it would be right up my alley to walk right up to him and give his groupies some really entertaining material. But I realize that before any sort of confrontation with Cole, I need to be calmer, because look how well the last time turned out. Staying cooped up in the dorm room isn’t going to help; all I’ll do is gorge myself on more sugar; isn’t that what they call the silent killer?
Speaking of…
I take out my stash of Nutella from the duffel and place the jars on Sarah’s desk. “That’s for being an awesome roommate and not asking for a switch.”
Her big brown eyes light up as she takes in the treasure in front of her, and not even bothering to look at me, she says, “Any time, Tessa.”
I leave her to have a moment with Nutella; every girl deserves to have that special bonding time.
From our shared closet, I grab my workout clothes and quickly change into them while Sarah’s distracted. I throw my hair up in a bun and grab an energy drink from our minifridge. No time like the present to exercise some frustration.
“If he comes by again…”
“I’ll tell him to look for you in the gym.”
If he wants to kiss and make up, then he’ll have to do it when I’m at my sweaty best; if that’s not a relationship test, then I don’t know what is.
“Thanks.”
The treadmill and I became friends back in the days of Fatty Tessie; while most people prefer running, I’d coveted the treadmill at my home gym. When you have as many body issues as I had, the last thing you want is people to see you panting and heaving. The summer that I lost all my excess weight included a lot of bonding time with the treadmill, so whenever I get on it now, it gives me a sense of comfort. I run, pushing everything out of my head and only concentrating on the task ahead, which is running till I can’t possibly go any further.
An hour later, I’m the promised sweaty mess and breathing hard as I towel off before hitting the showers. I’m doing some simple stretches when a pair of Nike-clad feet come into my line of sight. My heart rate’s already crazy, and I didn’t think it would be possible for it to accelerate any more, but it does, and I look up.
Only to be bitterly disappointed.
It’s not Cole, and of course there’s a possibility that he might not even know that I’ve come back, but still, it does suck that we’ve gone about two days being angry at each other.
“That was quite the intense workout.” The guy is in workout clothes as well, but, unlike the rest of his fellow gym buddies, there’s not an ounce of sweat on him, or extra fat. He’s tall, around six feet, with muscled arms and a well-toned chest. His hair, which he sweeps off his forehead as he smiles at me, is dark, almost black, matching his eyes. They match perfectly with his naturally tanned skin, and, for a moment, I’m taken aback.
Cute guys tend not to approach me, and when they do, bad things happen.
But, given the fact that I look like someone tried to drown me in a pool of my own sweat, there would be no way that he’s hitting on me.
“Thanks, I guess.” I look around awkwardly, not knowing as usual what to do in situations where other human beings talk to me.
“I haven’t seen you here before; is this your first time?”
“No, I usually come really early in the morning, so that might explain it.”
He laughs and rubs the back of his neck. Wait, is he nervous?
“I’m not a stalker or anything, actually, I’m a trainer, that’s why I was asking. I didn’t creep you out or anything, did I?”
The poor guy’s flushing, and his unease immediately thaws out my anxiety; he’s as socially inept as I am, so, basically, there’s no need to worry.
“No, of course not! But if you hadn’t been a trainer, then I might have asked you how many bodies you’ve got stashed in your ice cream truck.”
It takes a horribly awkward minute for the joke to register before he laughs and offers me his hand.
“I’m Bentley, senior and part-time gym trainer.”
“Tessa, freshman, and a rare exerciser.”
We fall easily into a conversation about school and our majors before I leave him to hit the showers. I thank my lucky stars that I brought decent clothes to change into, even if they are my trusty yoga pants and a gray, long-sleeved top that fits nicely.
I walk on over to where Bentley is helping another student in the weights section, and when he sees me, he holds up a finger, indicating that I should wait.
I stand there and on a whim, check my phone, noting that the screen is still blank and my texts are still unanswered. I’m brooding over these issues when Bentley taps me over my shoulder.
“So, are you heading out?” I notice the way his eyes roam over me, nothing creepy, but he definitely checks me out.
“Yeah, I usually just do the hour of cardio, not really an expert on the rest.”
His face lights up when I tell him this. “I could help you with that; just log on to the gym’s website and schedule an appointment with me. If you’re more comfortable working out in the morning, I could switch shifts; we could start you up with some basic strength training…”
He really does tend to ramble when he’s nervous, and right now he’s biting his lip as if he’s somehow scared me away, but I tell him that I’ll definitely look into making the appointment and smile at him as I leave.
It’s only then that I notice him leaning against the wall of the entrance to the gym. As per usual, Cole looks incredibly stunning with jeans and a white T-shirt with a black jacket over it. His eyes give nothing away as he watches me walking toward him. I reach for him automatically whenever he occupies the same space as me; it’s impossible for me not to. Even now, when I fear the outcome of his ambush, I can’t help but walk right up to him, until there’s enough space between us to be pushing what’s socially acceptable.
I notice immediately that he’s been having as difficult a time dealing with how we hurt each other as I have. There’s a nearly two-day stubble on his face, and his eyes look tired, defeated. He’s the exact mirror of me.
“Hey,” I say softly, but there’s no telling what he’s feeling, not with the blank expression on his face.
He’s glaring at something over my shoulder, and I look over to see what’s caught his attention. Cursed as I am, it turns out that Cole and Bentley are locked in some kind of a stare-off, neither willing to back off. This continues for a good couple of minutes before I decide to step in. I cup the side of Cole’s face knowing it’ll bring his attention back to me immediately.
“Hey,” I repeat, “What are you doing here?”
It takes him a few moments to make sense of what I’ve asked, and then I receive the answer in the most glorious way possible. His hand goes to my nape as he brings me forward, and he crushes his lips against mine in a frenzied, hotter-than-hell kiss.
Of course, I forget that we’re in public, of course, I forget that we need to talk about our issues, because when he kisses me, nothing else matters. That’s how it’s always been, and I’m not sure whether it’s good or bad, and nor do I want to know.
My arms go around his neck as I stand on my tiptoes to return his kiss. His hands rest on the small of my back, just a few inches above my butt, and I know it takes him a lot of self-restraint not to move lower. We kiss, it’s angry and messy, and it shows how we’re feeling; it’s nothing like the soft kisses he gives me right after he’s told me that he loves me. I can actually feel the hurt rolling off of him, and that’s what makes me back off.
I’m breathing heavily as I put my hand on his chest and create some space between us. “What was that for?”
The fact that he glances back at Bentley before giving me his answer has me furious. Of course, he’d just been marking his territory, like all men seem to think they need to do. I push away from him and turn to see a dejected-looking Bentley standing there, looking extremely uncomfortable. I want to go and apologize to him, tell him that my boyfriend’s not always such a jerk, but the fact that Cole’s standing there looking smug makes the situation all the more embarrassing.
I rush out of the gym and I know he’s close on my heels.
“Tessie, wait!”
Ignoring him, I push past the latest crowd of gym goers and continue to storm toward my dorm. He won’t be able to get in until I provide my ID, so there’s a huge chance of him being out in the cold all night. Of course, given the fact that he’s taller than I am and has legs that make mine look like stumps, he catches up with me in no time and pulls me back by the arm. I struggle, and he cages my back against his chest, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“Stop fighting me,” he croons in my ear, like I’m a child. It does give me the urge to stomp on his foot, so maybe he might be on to something.
“Let me go, you oaf!”
He chuckles; he actually has the nerve to laugh at me right now. “I’m not letting you go, ever, now stay still.”
Because we’re hidden by the shadows of various campus buildings and because it’s gotten relatively empty out, it gives him the perfect opportunity to press us against the back of a building. His lips find their spot on my neck, and as he begins to plant small kisses there, some of my resistance begins to fall apart.
“Why’d you do that? Why did you kiss me like that?”
“Like what?” He hums against my skin.
“Like you were mad at me.”
He freezes for a second, his arms go lax, and I feel a sudden chill take over me. Cole presses his lips to my cheek and then turns me around to face him.
“I didn’t mean for it to be like that but…”
“You were jealous! The stunt you just pulled there, what did the poor guy do to you?”
“Poor guy, my ass, he was basically peeling your clothes off with his eyes!”
“That’s crap and you know it! He was being a nice person; you didn’t have to embarrass him like that.”
To his credit, Cole starts to look a little apologetic. “Okay so maybe I handled things the wrong way but you have to know that he likes you right?”
“No Cole, that’s not right. Not every interaction I have with a man has to become sexual. He’s going to be my personal trainer and you need to get over your Neanderthal mentality and accept it.” I might be putting my foot down but ‘m not really sure about the personal trainer part, I might never have the nerve to face the guy ever again after what Cole just did, but he doesn’t need to know that.
Then something clicks; somehow, the reason for his overreaction becomes apparent.
“You’re angry with me, aren’t you? I hurt you by not trusting you; it’s okay to feel that way. Be mad at me; tell me that I’m wrong. Just be honest, please, what is this even about?”
His shoulders slump in defeat. “Shit, I’d meant to sweep you off your feet, not injure you. You need to know that I want you to be able to trust me; there’s nothing I’d value more than knowing that I’ve earned that trust. But, Tessie, you’ve got to learn to stop doubting us. I can’t fix us if you’re the one who doesn’t believe that we can work.”
“I never said that! I trust you, I do, but you’ve been so distant lately. All I ever hear are promises that you don’t get to keep. That’s what hurts me, Cole.”
He’s quiet now; we both are. I’ve rarely come right out and told him how much I’d hated the way his life has changed so much since we got to college; I’d refused to even admit it to myself. But the more popular he got and the more new people that came into his life, the worse I’d started to feel about myself. For a girl who’d always had insecurities, and had them for good reason, seeing constant judgement in people’s eyes isn’t really healthy. But I did try my hardest to go along with it, to not let it become too obvious how much I’ve been affected by people seeing me as nothing but Cole’s plain-looking girlfriend. I know there’s so much more to me that these people don’t see. They don’t see the long hours I put in at the library or how well I’m already doing in my classes. They don’t know about all my hopes for the future and how hard I’m working to make those dreams come true. These people, the ones who just want a piece of Cole, don’t define me, and I won’t let them, but sometimes it hurts that they don’t try harder to get to know who I really am.
“I’ll quit the team. If that’s what you want, I’ll quit it right now.”
“Of course that’s not what I want,” I cry out, “I just…I don’t know how I’m supposed to fit into your life right now.”
“I love you, Tessie; you’re the most important thing in the world to me. Nothing matters more than you do; you need to believe me.” He leans in and kisses me deeply, and when he pulls back, there’s a sense of peace that comes with it.
“I believe you, Cole, but what you’re seeing here isn’t about you. I’m not in a good place right now.” Then I voice the fears that I should have told him in the first place. “Being at college is not what I thought it was going to be like. Sometimes it feels like I’m still stuck in high school, and…”
“I only make that worse, don’t I? That’s why you never go out to parties?” He looks devastated right now because he knows how much I’d looked forward to being here, how it’d always been a dream of mine.
I move in closer to him and rest my head on his chest. “No, you’ve always made things better. I just need you to understand where I’m coming from. If I do stupid stuff, if it’s hard for me to trust you, then you need to know why. And…” I gulp, “I need to know if things will be the same for a while, with me being disappointed every time you fail to show up.”
“I’ll never let you hurt again, Shortcake; I’m so sorry.”
Someone said that the road to hell is paved with good intentions; I just hope that the saying came to bite them in the butt.