Unfamiliar (20 page)

She said his name as though he was royalty.
Donald Worthington the fourth?
That was what Deuce was short for? That was freaking lame.

As I stared at Heather and Deuce, I felt nothing. No, seriously, nothing. I’d pictured so many times what I would do or say if I was ever confronted with the douchebag who’d been banging my girlfriend, but now that I was in the moment, I didn’t feel like doing anything.

Had I actually moved on?

“I’m glad you found someone good enough for you. You two deserve each other.” A smile spread across my face. “I’m glad I never proposed. I’m glad you didn’t become my wife, because I found someone even better than you; someone who is so amazing that I would do anything to be with her. I wouldn’t do anything for you, Heather, and that’s how I know you aren’t the one.”

Heather gaped at me, her face slowly turning red. “How dare you say that about me! I was the best damn thing you ever had!”

With a laugh, I shook my head and walked away. “No, you weren’t. Not even close.”

“That goddamn whore!” Jonathan said as he followed after me. “I can’t believe Deuce fucking did that to you!”

I didn’t say anything. There was nothing to be said.

I’d just found out my ex-girlfriend had cheated on me with a guy I thought was a friend. There was only one way to even begin to process that plot twist—get wasted.

So I did. When we got back to the apartment, I locked myself in my room and drank as much rum as I could tolerate before my head began swimming so fast that I was pretty sure I would turn upside down if I stood up.

Not wanting to move, I lay back in my bed and tried to think about things to get my mind off Heather and Deuce, but all I could think about was Hailey.

My thoughts were all overlapping with each other, but they all came back to her. They all came back to the girl who’d frustrated me for weeks. Yet, at the same time, she got me too. I couldn’t get Hailey Peters out of my mind. So I did what any sensible, drunk person would do—I dialed her number.

She didn’t pick up the first few times. Thinking she might be sleeping, I just kept hitting redial hoping the ringing would eventually wake her.

“Hello?” Her voice sounded weird when she picked up, like she didn’t really want to talk to me.

“So you probably don’t want to talk to me,” I said, not giving her a chance to say anything else or hang up, “but I have things to say to you. Very important things.”

“Chase, are you drunk?”

I ignored her question. Her question had nothing to do with what I wanted to tell her. “You’re a brat, Hailey Peters. You’re a snob. You think you’re better than me because I’m in a band and because I have tattoos. Well, you’re not better than me.”

“I don’t need to hear this right now.”

“Yes, you fucking do, Hailey Peters! You need to hear this every day for the rest of our lives! You need to hear that you’re stuck up, a little pretentious, imperfect, stubborn as hell, beautiful, amazing, and everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman. And I’m in love with you. I don’t know when I fell in love with you, but it happened.”

“Chase-”

“Stop, Hailey, just stop. Stop overthinking everything. I’ve seen you at your worst, and trust me, it was your worst, but I still want to be with you. You’re not perfect, not even close, but that’s why I love you.”

The line went dead and I was left talking to myself.

Shit! Hailey had hung up on me, and now I felt like an asshole again. She had this uncanny ability to make me feel like I’d screwed up over and over again.

What was really playing in my mind right now was that I didn’t give a damn about Heather anymore. I didn’t give a damn about Deuce. All I cared about was Hailey, the girl who kept falling away from me.

Hailey

My phone rang again. I looked down to see who it was even though I already knew. Chase had been calling me non-stop all morning. I wasn't sure what I wanted to say to him yet—what was I supposed to say to him? He’d told me I was a brat and that he loved me. Was he serious? I couldn't know for sure, so I had been ignoring all of his calls. You would think he'd get the hint but apparently not.

Tessa was car shopping with me. Neither of us knew anything about cars, but I had finally saved up enough money to buy a reliable used vehicle and she was tagging along for moral support.

“You know who knows about cars?”

“Who?” I peered through the window of a 1998 Ford Taurus.

“Chase,” she said matter-of-factly. “I bet he’d be more help than me.”

“A chipmunk would be more help than you.”

She rolled her eyes, but didn’t bring him up again.

After I’d test-driven the Taurus, I decided to get it. I signed the papers and drove back to the dorms in my new-to-me car. It was navy blue and nothing fancy, but it was mine. I wouldn’t have to worry about Braxton having to always pick me up or borrowing Tessa’s car in an emergency. The independence felt good.

Tessa beat me back to the room—I had to get a parking sticker first. I didn’t want to have my car towed or get a ticket for illegal parking my very first day of owning it.

When I walked in, she quickly got off the phone with whoever she was talking to and gave me a guilty look. Her eyes darted to her dresser where a beautiful bouquet of flowers in a glass vase now sat. Jonathan must have sent them to apologize to her, though he really had nothing to apologize for. It wasn't his fault Chase had lied to me.

“Are those from Jonathan?” I asked, even though I already knew.

“Yeah,” she said sheepishly.

“You know, I don’t expect you to hold this against Jonathan. Even I’m not mad at him for being in on the joke.”

“Just trying to abide by Girl Code.”

“For the millionth time, that’s not a real thing.” I rolled my eyes at her. “Seriously though, I’m not mad at Jonathan.”

“Can you just tell me what’s going on between you two?”

I didn’t have to ask her who she was referring to.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Come on, Hailey. What happened?”

“He humiliated me, that's what happened,” I said pointedly. “And then the jerk drunk-dialed me last night. Which wasn’t cool, at all.”

I had actually spent a lot of time thinking about everything Chase had said to me. Some of it hurt, but as much as I didn’t want to admit it, I couldn’t deny the truth behind his words. Because the truth was, he was right—I was a brat and a snob and, yes, he was also right; I
was
pretentious.

And yet, he’d said he loved me.

But he’d also been seriously wasted. Did he feel the same way when he was sober enough to think straight? How could someone like him possibly love someone like me?

I wasn’t sure who I was and I only had a vague inclination of who I wanted to be. I had put so much effort in trying to plan everything the way that I thought it should be, that I didn’t even know what I actually wanted.

All I really knew was that it was going to take a full blown scrubbing with sandpaper and possibly bleach to get Chase out of my head.

It needed to happen. I needed to forget about him and move on to the future I had planned with Braxton. Unfortunately, that was easier said than done because every time I closed my eyes, it was Chase's face that I saw.

“That's not exactly the answer I was looking for.”

“I spent the last few months gushing over William C. Lancaster and the whole time, the whole time, it was Chase and no one thought to even mention it to me?”

“He didn't want you to know.”

“Exactly. He lied to me.”

“Not really, Hailey. He just wasn't forthcoming with the information.”

“Same thing.”

“Oh Hailey, he didn't mean to hurt you. Don't you realize that?”

“He didn't mean to make me feel like an idiot when I realized that I had been obsessing over William C. Lancaster, crushing on William C. Lancaster TO William C. Lancaster? He should have told me.”

“You are right. He should have. But he didn't. Did you even ask him why? Did you even give him the chance to explain?”

“No.”

“No. You didn't. You immediately ran off to Braxton and got—” She grabbed my left hand and threw it up in the air as she spat out, “Engaged! Who gets engaged at eighteen years old? I'll tell you who: cowards.”

“Tessa!”

“No, don't ‘Tessa’ me! You are going to hear me out. You’re only accepting his proposal because you’re scared and he’s the easy choice— he’s comfortable and familiar. Don’t you find that dull? You don't take any chances, Hailey. You never live. You’re stuck in place and you are never going to grow up until you realize that life is about taking chances. It's about making mistakes and learning who you are from those mistakes. For once in your life Hailey, tell your freaking head to shut up and listen to your heart. Because I guarantee that if you actually gave your heart a chance, it would point you down a very different path than the one you are currently on. A bumpy, twisting, scary, and unpredictable path, but believe me, the view is so much better.”

Tears pooled in my eyes, probably messing up my black eyeliner, and threatening to spill out at any moment.

Tessa grabbed some tissues from her dresser. They were the cheap, stiff kind that would probably make my face redder than my tears, but I accepted them anyway and attempted to clean up the black smudges under my eyes.

“What do I do, Tessa? I'm so confused.”

“I can't tell you what to do, that's your decision to make. I'm not telling you to stay with him, but I'm also not telling you to leave him. You need to do what's right and what makes you happy."

“What if I choose wrong?” I asked, my voice quiet and shaky.

“Then you dust yourself off and start again.”

“That sounds terrifying.”

“That, my dear, is all part of this glorious ride they call life.”

“God, when did my life become so complicated?” I said more to myself than to her.

“Just think about everything I said, Hailey.” Tessa sighed tiredly. “And don’t be too hard on Chase. There’s a lot more going on there than you know.”

“I can’t think about him right now.” I grabbed my phone. “Not tonight. Thanks though, for you know, talking and stuff. I’m just going to go for a walk.” I hugged Tessa before I left. I didn’t want to make her think I was mad at her, because I wasn’t. Deep down, I knew she was exactly right.

I just needed some air—I needed room to think about everything. Even though I said I didn’t want to think about him, it didn’t matter. His face consumed my thoughts and I realized it was a lost cause. I couldn’t stop thinking about this unfamiliar walking contradiction. His name echoed in the back of my mind.

I wondered why he’d kept his identity a secret. A part of me wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt—maybe he’d wanted to surprise me? Maybe he’d thought I’d be impressed.

Or maybe he was a total jerk who just wanted to mess with my head.

No, I didn’t really believe that. If he’d wanted to be a jerk, he wouldn’t be passive-aggressive about it. He would have been laughing in my face when I realized who he was. That wasn’t what he’d done at all. In fact, he’d seemed to be really nervous that day.

My phone rang. I checked it even though I was sure it would be Chase again, but this time it wasn't—it was Braxton.

“Hello?” As soon as I answered, I could tell something was wrong.

“Are you busy?”

“No. What’s up?”

“It’s Mom—she wants to see you.”

He didn’t have to say anything else. All thoughts of Chase were pushed to the back of my mind.

“I’m leaving now.”

The hour drive to Southlake seemed longer than it ever had before. Chase called several times but I still couldn't talk to him. I put my phone on silent. A person can only handle so much at a time and right now I needed to focus on Mrs. Douglas. I'd talk to Chase when I got back to Oakdale.

When I entered the familiar house I saw Mr. Douglas, his face white as he walked past me and headed up the stairs with heavy steps. He said nothing to me, but that wasn’t a surprise. I hadn’t actually had a conversation with him in a few months. He didn’t talk to anyone anymore.

I worried about how he was going to go on after Mrs. Douglas passed. I didn’t think he’d survive and that broke my heart. Brad turned the corner. His usual cheerful demeanor had shifted to a more solemn one and I knew that this was it. The last day we would have with her.

“Braxton’s in with her now. She’s having a good day,” Brad told me quietly.

“That’s good right?”

“Yes, it is. But it also means that we probably don’t have much more time with her.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a pretty common phenomenon. One of my professors discussed it last semester. Right before terminally ill patients pass, they get one final burst of energy. Religious people say it’s like a gift from God—allowing a chance to say goodbye while the loved one is lucid. But— ”