Change of Heart (8 page)

I take my glass and spin the stem between my fingers, looking down at the burgundy liquid. “He broke me, Sam. He broke me in such an agonizingly slow manner. I loved him, you know? More than I should have. More than he loved me.”

You’re my best friend.

I look up to meet Sam’s eyes. They’re sad. Full of pity.

Fucking great. More pity. Just what I need.

“Did you ever talk to him about how you felt?”

I can’t help it; I start laughing hysterically. “Did I…ever talk…to him…about how I…felt?” I say between giggles.

Sam’s looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have.

“I think he had a pretty good idea of how I felt when he was inside me night after night,” I say flatly.

Sam’s eyes are wide now. He didn’t know? Shocker.

“What? You didn’t know? Of course not. Why would you? I was just his dirty little secret. Not good enough to be with in public, but good enough to sneak into my room every night. I lost my virginity to him! I gave everything to him!”

Sam’s eyes are darting around the bar, and I look around, noticing that conversations have stopped and people are staring. Whatever. They can stare all they want. I wouldn’t be here long enough to give a damn what these people thought of me.

My shoulders slump in defeat. “He never felt that way about me, Sam.” I can’t stop the tears that build up behind my eyes. “He was just so into himself and his popular friends. He didn’t care about me or how I felt. He never even asked me what my plans were after school. I would have told him. If he cared enough to ask. I never hid anything from him…until I did.”

I push my still full wine glass away. “Call me a cab, Sam, will you? A real one.”

“I got this, Sam,” a familiar voice behind me says.

Well, shit.

Chapter Twelve

Decker

I had to run back to school to pick up some of my missed assignments from my professors this morning. I felt guilty for leaving Casey, but she’s been through so much and looked so peaceful sleeping. I’d hoped I’d be there and back in no time, before she even woke up maybe, but I had to wait for one of my professors to finish a three-hour seminar.

When I finally arrive home, right away I notice her car is missing. Panic sets in as I run to her house and bang on the front door.

Not again. Please, not again. She wouldn’t have gone back to California without telling me…not this time…would she?

When Mrs. Evans opens the door, I don’t even give her a chance to say hello. “Where’s Casey?”

“Hey, Decker. She just went out for a bit, do you want to come inside?”

“No, ma’am. Do you know where she went?” Surely she can sense my desperation in my jerky movements. I probably reek of it, too.

“She had a pretty rough day. We took care of some of her dad’s things. I think she just needed to let off some steam.”

“But do you know where she went?” Clearly I’m not above begging.

She shakes her head, “I’m sorry, I don’t. Where do you kids go around here to hang out?”

I think about it, maybe a pool hall? But no one goes to a pool hall by themselves. A bar? Does Casey even drink? She had wine after the funeral and when we cooked out the other night. Bill’s!

“Thanks, Mrs. Evans!” I call out as I take off for my truck. I jump in and grab my cell phone out of the center console. I quickly ask Siri for the number to Bill’s Tavern, knowing my high school buddy Sam tends bar there a few nights a week. I hope tonight is one of those nights.

“Bill’s Tavern.”

Thank Christ. “Sam? It’s Decker.”

He exhales. “It’s about damn time. She’s here. Better hurry up.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…yet. But she’s well on her way to being hammered.”

“Shit. Thanks, Sam.” I hang up the phone and peel out of the driveway, barely checking my rear view mirror for cars or pedestrians.

Chill out, Abrams. Sam’s looking out for her. She’s not alone. No need to kill yourself or someone else. But why the hell did he let her drink so much?

I ease the truck intro drive and try to go the speed limit all the way to the bar. But let’s be honest here, five miles over the limit isn’t really speeding, is it?

I pull into the parking lot to Bill’s Tavern and cut the engine, breathing a sigh of relief when I see her car parked two spaces over. I take a deep breath and get out of the car, not knowing what I’m about to walk into. I’ve never seen Casey drunk before. She never used to drink at parties in high school. Hell, she never went to parties in high school. And she’s only had a glass or two of wine since I’ve been home.

I push open the door to the bar, and what I hear completely stops me in my tracks.

“What? You didn’t know? Of course not. Why would you? I was just his dirty little secret. Not good enough to be with in public, but good enough to sneak into my room every night. I lost my virginity to him! I gave everything to him!”

The entire place is silent, I swear you can hear the crickets and frogs outside. Sam’s wide eyes search the bar, finally landing on mine. Casey, swaying on her bar stool, looks around briefly, not noticing me in the doorway.

“He never felt that way about me, Sam.” She continues quietly, slumped down on her stool now. I walk up behind her, ready to catch her if she falls. “He was just so into himself and his popular friends. He didn’t care about me or how I felt. He never even asked me what my plans were after school. I would have told him. If he cared enough to ask. I never hid anything from him…until I did.”

My heart breaks. That’s how she felt…like she was my dirty little secret? That’s not true at all. I loved her. I always tried to protect her…to take care of her. Hell, I didn’t think I deserved her. She was so much better than I was. Had I really come off as being that selfish back then? And that’s the reason she didn’t tell me she was leaving? Because she didn’t think I cared?

She pushes her full glass towards Sam. “Call me a cab, Sam, will you?”

“I got this, Sam,” I tell him, breaking my silence and causing Casey to startle.

She slowly turns to face me, and I see the wet streaks on her cheeks from her tears. I did this to her. I broke my best friend. Or rather a major miscommunication did. But yeah…it’s mostly my fault.

“Come on,” I tell her, reaching for her hand. “Let’s get you home.”

She swats my hand away. “I don’t want to go home with you!” she screams, attracting more attention than she already had.

I know she’s pissed at me and I get it. I really do. But drunk or not, pissed off or not, I’m not going to put up with her shit. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose.

“Casey, get up,” I tell her firmly, looking directly into her eyes now.

“No,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly.

I sigh. “Then I’m gonna have to do this the hard way.”

She looks at me with confusion before her face fills with shock as I bend over and press my shoulder into her stomach, lifting her up and onto my shoulder. Thankfully she’s wearing shorts so she’s not giving anyone a show. Well, any more of a show than her beating on my back and screaming like a banshee.

“Put me down, Decker Oscar Abrams!”

I nod at Sam, who mouths “Oscar” at me. Yeah, I’m never going to live that down now. Thank you, Casey.

“I am
so
telling your mother!”

“Go ahead, princess. Tell her all about how you were running your mouth in the bar and being a brat when I offered to see that you got home safely. While you’re at it, tell your mom, too. Take out an announcement in the paper for all I care.”

She slumps in defeat, making it much easier for me to carry her. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” I say, though I’m not really sure if that’s true after what I heard a few minutes ago. I set her down on her feet just outside my truck. “You know we’re going to talk about this, don’t you?”

She rolls her eyes. “Whatever.”

I open the passenger door and give her a boost up. She swats at me twice while I’m trying to help her buckle her seatbelt, and I want to laugh, but I know that won’t help things any. I shut her door, walk around the front of the truck, and get in.

“I’m sorry you heard all that,” she tells me quietly. Her head is now lying back on the headrest and her eyes are closed. I bet she’ll be asleep before we even get out of the parking lot.

“It’s how you feel. Don’t be sorry for how you feel.” Even if I can’t stand the thought of her feeling that way towards me. Especially when she doesn’t know the whole truth.

“I was just so mad at you, Decker,” she breathes out.

“I know, Casey. And we’ll talk about it. But not tonight.”

“Not tonight,” she repeats.

I start the truck and head home. Sure enough, she’s asleep before we pull out onto the main road. I can’t believe that all this time I’ve been mad at her, she’s been mad at me. If we’d just talked back then, really talked about shit instead of dancing around the real stuff, maybe the past three years wouldn’t have happened. At least not like they did. Maybe I’d still have my best friend and wouldn’t be terrified I was going to lose her.

As I’m taking the turns through our neighborhood, admittedly a little faster than I normally would since there aren’t any cars on the road, Casey groans. “Imgonnabesick,” she garbles before leaning forward and puking all over her legs, the car seat, and the floorboards of my truck.

Fantastic.

The perfect end to the perfect night.

Not.

Chapter Thirteen

Casey

The following morning, I wake up feeling like absolute shit. To make matters worse, my mother is sitting beside my bed when I finally open my eyes. I can’t decipher the look on her face through the haze surrounding my brain, and I don’t even want to. I know what I’ll see if I take the time to focus. Disappointment.

“Take this,” she snaps, roughly handing me a couple white pills and a glass of water.

I lift myself up on my elbows, wincing at the sunlight pouring in the room through the open blinds. I drop the pills on my tongue and swallow them down with the water. Glancing over at my nightstand I take note of the bottled vitamin drink, toast, and assortment of other pills. I set the water glass down and flop back into the mattress; the movement causes my stomach to turn, and I groan.

“What the hell were you thinking?” my mother hisses at me, obviously through with the silence.

My eyes pop open. She’s mad at me?

“I am so
disappointed
in you, Casey.” Ah, there it is.

“I’m sorry, mom. I won’t do it again,” I drone monotonously, pinching my eyes tightly shut again in an effort to block the sunshine.

“Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?” Clearly, she’s not finished with her lecture. She’s never had to do this to me before, so I guess I should be a little more patient and understanding.

“I’m fine,” I tell her, making eye contact this time. “See? I’m right here. I’m in one piece.”

“Casey…I know the last few years have been rough and you never really acted like a kid even before that. But there is no reason to catch up on all that you missed in one night.”

“Mom, I had a few glasses of wine. That’s it. I drink wine in California. I’m of age, it’s not that big a deal.”

She shakes her head. “You have to be more careful than that. I already lost my husband…” her voice breaks. “I refuse to lose my daughter, too.”

I sigh, taking her hand in mine and using my other hand to rub her back as she quietly sobs at my bedside. I wish I could promise her she’ll never lose me, I wish I could alleviate that concern…but it’s inevitable, right?

***

Mom and I had a heart-to-heart and I promised her I wouldn’t drink excessively again. I even offered to not touch alcohol all together if it made her feel better, but she insisted it was fine in moderation. My promise certainly wouldn’t solve all our problems, but it’s a start. One tiny victory that made my mom feel better, that’s what was important. After she had finally calmed down, I retreated to one of my most favorite places. The dock in our backyard.

Apparently I had slept most of the day away because it’s already dusk. The sky is painted gorgeous shades of blue and orange. Blended together it looks like a brilliant abstract painting. I miss the Carolina night sky; California sunsets are different. I take a seat at the end of the dock, not quite far enough for my legs to bend over the edge—it’s still too cold for that—but my heels are lined up perfectly with the last wooden plank.

Snippets of last night start making their way back to me. I can’t believe Decker heard those things I’d said about him. About us. And hell, I can’t even believe I said those things! Poor Sam. He probably hadn’t been expecting all that when he took my drink order. He’s a bartender, so I suppose it’s not the worse he’s ever heard…but still, he and Decker were good friends and it was so inappropriate for me to unload on him like that. I’ll have to apologize to him before I leave town.

The boards behind me bump and creak as footsteps approach. I don’t even have to turn around to know it’s him. It’s Decker. He stops right behind me and sits down, legs spread on either side of my body. I bend my knees and press myself back against his chest. I can’t not do it…it’s reflexive, even after all these years. He continues our old routine by wrapping his arms around me and pulling me in snug, resting his head on my shoulder, the side of his face against the side of mine.

I don’t know what to say to him but I know I need to say something. I at least owe him
some
explanation after what he walked in on last night. But where do I even begin? I’m not even sure how much of my little outburst he’d heard. But regardless…I’d blindsided him.