Preservation (12 page)

“You’ve told them all the same thing you told me that day in the classroom before Alisha walked in, haven’t you? That you wouldn’t touch them unless they dropped your class.”

He gulped and glanced from side to side. “Of course I did, I was trying to save my own ass. But I never meant it, I screwed around anyway.”

“And you meant it with me?”

He stepped back now, anger overshadowing his concern. “Did I or did I not beg you to please drop my class the first night we were together? Yes, I meant it.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and steadied his voice. “Look, I know you’re still having a hard time about your mom, but that’s no reason to push me—”

“Don’t you
dare
.”

“You hear one thing from these girls and you’re ready to send me packing. I’m being honest with you, Kate. What more can I do? You think it’s fun for me to talk to you about all of this? About what an asshole I’ve been?”

“You never called,” I changed tactics. “You swore to me you’d call when you got to Portland last night. How am I supposed to trust you, Ryan? Can’t you put yourself in my shoes for one second?”

“Damn it, I’ve been trying!” He pulled his hands from his pockets and raised them in the air. “I can’t get past the fact that you even gave me a
chance
, that you’re here with me right now. I don’t fucking deserve you, Kate. If I could make sense of a single thing that was going on in your head, I’d be thrilled, believe me.” He stepped forward again, fisting my hair, bringing my face to his. “Tell me what you need from me. Don’t push me out. We have something good going and I’m not giving up that easy, so say whatever you have to say.”

I thought of my beloved atlas and the necklace Carter had miraculously bought back for me, how emotional I’d been and how the run in with the blondes had sent me over the edge. The past few weeks had been hell and I knew I was still tender from all that I’d been through.

I peered deep into his eyes and saw it again—that same sincerity I’d seen and sensed before, that was hidden beneath his stormy, arrogant surface.
Don’t push him away, Kate. Give him a chance to show you he won’t hurt you.

As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t afford chance.

I’d worked damn hard to create a safe haven for myself, a place to call home, one that no one could level. If I continued anything with Ryan, even something casual, there was a very good possibility that he’d take a wrecking ball to it and break down my fortress.

“I need you to leave, that’s what I need from you.”

His fists tightened in my hair, sadness sweeping his features. “Kate. Don’t. I’m sorry I didn’t call. Everything was so crazy once I got there, I had to meet and talk to so many people. Then I crashed the minute I got back to my room.”

“Thank you for being here for me since my mom passed away. But this isn’t going to work. I need you to leave. Now, please.”

We stood there in silence for what felt like an eternity until Ryan’s arms dropped to his sides, mine guarded coolly across my chest.

The bedroom door creaked open and Carter popped his head in. “You guys better be decent.” He kept his head down. “Just wanted to see if you wanted any of this breakfast before it got cold, Ryan.”

“No, man. Thanks. I was just leaving.”

Ryan picked up his suit jacket and swung it over his shoulder, then slid past Carter through the bedroom door. His departure took with it a heavy regret. I knew I’d made the wrong decision. But a wrong decision was better than a deadly one.

10. TIME OUT

“What was that all about?” Carter hadn’t moved from the bedroom doorway.

“Nothing.” I sat back down on the bed, eyes glued on the view out the window. I picked up my laptop and opened it without looking at it, letting it rest on the pillow.

“You ran him off?”

“Save your lectures, Carter. I’d like to get back to my novel, if you don’t mind.”

“Damn it, Kate. I was just starting to like the guy. He hasn’t left your side since your mom passed. I think he really cares about—”

“I said
save it
. You don’t know what he cares about.”

“Well maybe if you’d talk to me about it, fill me in a little. But I guess that’s too much to ask from your best friend.” He slammed the door and I heard him mumble something to Dean and Crystal.

What was Carter’s deal, anyway? He was anti-Ryan from day one and now all of a sudden he was rooting for him? Whatever. I did what I needed to do. Propping my back up against the headboard, I swung the laptop over my knees and buried myself in my writing, dreading class the next day.

***

The damp, fall air chilled me to the bone as I made my way to Ryan’s class. Out of all the weeks that’d passed since my mom died, I’d only missed two classes, although my grades had taken a significant hit even when I’d actually attended. Thanksgiving was Thursday and then the semester would be wrapped up by early December. Only a few more weeks to earn some higher scores to pull up my grades before finals.

My stomach bunched up into tight knots when I approached the classroom; I felt completely exhausted when scenes from the past weekend flashed through my mind. Carter had backed off about Ryan, and Dean had remained tight-lipped about the whole thing, barely mentioning Ryan’s name.

And as for Ryan, he barely acknowledged my presence when I stepped into class. His face was stone, expression distant. My eyes shot downward, instantly feeling a bit hurt when he didn’t say hello or even nod.
Hello,
what did you expect?

I told my inner monologue to mind her own business and cracked open my textbook and laptop to get ready for the lecture. Ryan launched into his lesson and was interrupted only a few seconds in when the front door cracked open. In strode Alisha in tall, deadly, yet undeniably sexy heels and a long, thin pencil skirt with a frilly white blouse. My eyes widened at the sight and I sank down into my seat, keeping my face hidden behind my laptop screen.
What the hell is she doing here? Is she insane? Coming to argue with Ryan in the middle of his class? She has to know she can be kicked off campus for something like this.

Ryan turned from the dry-erase board where he’d been writing and much to my amazement, didn’t look surprised. In fact, he looked expectant. Bored, but expectant. I watched their exchange curiously as she discreetly slipped him some paperwork and whispered something in his ear, a soft smile painting her face.
No arguing this time, I guess.
He nodded to thank her and she turned to leave. When she did, a small, silver plaque jumped out at me. It was fastened to the right side of her chest. A name tag.
She works here?
How did I ever miss that?

I found myself distracted for the rest of class with this new piece of information. Ryan handed us papers we’d written a few weeks ago, tapping mine gently when he placed it in front of me. His soft fingertips grazed my hand when I reached for it and I reflexively peered up at him. His eyes met mine for a brief second but I broke the contact, suddenly overwhelmed with how much I missed him. He cleared his throat and moved to the back of the room to continue his task.

That night at the pool, everything felt off. It was dead quiet that time of night as it had always been, but the silence felt thick and heavy. Unavoidable. I poured every ounce of energy I had into my laps, focusing extra hard on the technique and form Ryan had shown me. I did a few more laps and then sank down to hold myself underwater when I reached the wall, wanting to feel the weightlessness of my body, the cool water glide over my skin, the peace that came with being submerged in quiet beauty. I wanted to feel something. Anything but my regret.

Like clockwork, Ryan showed up at his usual time, just as I was packing up to leave.

“Ms. Parker.” He nodded civilly, stripping down to his swim trunks.

“Ryan.” My voice was a heavy plead, aware I never gave him the chance to explain himself. It was only fair. “I’m sorry for the way I handled things yesterday.” I towel-dried my hair and watched him sink into the water, flinching when he felt the temperature.

“It’s okay, Kate. I understand. Water under the bridge.”

“Really? That’s all you have to say? Because I didn’t let you finish—”

“There’s nothing else to say. You’ve made yourself clear enough, I don’t think I have much of a say in the matter.”

“I’m giving you a say. Right now. Wait a minute.” I tossed my towel on the chair and walked to the pool ledge to stare down at him. “What happened to ‘you won’t give up that easily’? Was I right about you, then? Was I just like the others you screwed around with?”

“You know you weren’t—aren’t. I’ve already tried telling you that. But you seem intent on hearing what you want to hear.” He stiffened and began to stretch. “I’m very sorry for all you’ve been through with your mom. I really do wish you the best with everything. With finals, too. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

And that was it. That’s all he was going to say. He turned his back to me and positioned himself, his face expressionless.

“So whatever you felt for me, you’re just going to turn it off like a switch, is that it?”

“Are we done here?” Alisha’s voice came from behind me. I had to stop my jaw from dropping. I swung around and burned her with my glare, storming around her to pick up my backpack.

“Yeah. We’re done.”

“What are you doing here, Alisha?” Ryan asked, irritated.

“Why won’t you return my calls? I thought you let her down easy, Ry. What the hell was that about?” Her bitchy response launched them into a scuffle and I burst through the locker room doors, furious.

I was right about him. So was Carter. Clearly, I had been a complete and total fool to have fallen for
any
of his shit. He was still seeing Alisha. Either that or he wasted no time getting back together with her. Just yesterday morning, I was wrapped in his warm, protective arms, and today, tossed out like trash.

I skipped my shower and decided to clean up at home, jogging to the Light Rail station. I couldn’t get there fast enough.

***

Thanksgiving was quiet and lonely, although I had an invitation to eat with Carter and his family. I politely declined, opting for solitude in my tiny apartment. Plus I decided to keep my run in with Ryan and Alisha secret from Carter. The last thing I wanted was for Dean or Carter to pummel his ass, although the thought was mildly amusing.
“If he ever hurts you...”
Carter’s words hovered over me like a big gray cloud.

So it was just me and my shabby, fake Christmas tree. I decorated it with all of the ornaments I’d saved from my childhood, which represented some of my happiest moments with my parents before everything went to hell. The little tree sat atop my end table in front of the window, lit with a warm, artificial glow that gave me an odd sort of comfort.
My first Thanksgiving without Mom.
I tapped at one of the round ornaments, spun it with my fingertips. I finished my Thanksgiving microwave meal and then snuggled up on the couch to open my laptop, letting my novel engulf me in its therapeutic world.

By the weekend, I’d been very aware of my nearly empty bank account, cringing when I checked my balance. The days of work I’d missed after my mother’s death had finally caught up with me, the bereavement pay only covering some of the time I’d missed. Rent was due the first of December and I also owed the second half of my tuition for January classes. Reality flooded me, rushing over my hopes with a strong surge. There was no way school was happening next semester. Not if I expected to keep a roof over my head and food on the table for the next month.

When Monday’s class rolled around, the realization struck that I would only see Ryan two more times before he’d be officially out of my life. The thought was depressing. I desperately needed to go out and have some fun. After the week I’d spent hibernating and last Monday’s run-in with Ryan and Alisha at the pool, I was craving it hardcore.
I’ll have to talk to Carter about that at lunch.

At least the confirmation that Ryan was a total lying dick helped propel me to move forward and leave him behind. Missing him wasn’t an option anymore, no matter how much I pined for his arms, his scent, or the great conversations and laughs we’d shared. How could I have been so wrong about him? My instincts were usually dead on. If there was anything I’d picked up from raising myself from a very young age, it was an instinctual radar for people who were out to hurt me or who were inherently no good.

I sighed and reached into my book bag to pull out the folder containing the paper Ryan returned to me last week. I had never looked at it, didn’t even bother checking my grade. I opened up the folder as his smooth, passionate voice filled the classroom, and a quiet gasp escaped my lips when I read his notation. He’d given me an “A,” and next to it, he’d written:

Submit this to the literary magazine that accepted your other work for publication. They’ll love this one, too. It’s transcendent and nothing short of phenomenal.