Warning Signs (Broken Promises #2) (4 page)

“You made it clear you weren’t going to help me. So I’m helping myself.” I looked up at him, and he appeared sad.

“What’s wrong? Is Mom okay?” I asked. Something wasn’t right.

“Yeah, she’s fine. I’m fine, there’s…there’s just a lot of stuff going on.”

“Yeah, well, once you issue that statement telling everyone the band is through, I’m sure it’ll get easier.”

He had turned around momentarily before stopping dead in his tracks. “What did you say?” he asked in a dangerously quiet tone.

“I said, once you tell the mass of fans that kneel at your feet that you’ve given up on Eden Sank, it’ll get easier.”

He turned around, and I knew I had stepped into hot water. This was something that would create an argument that no whistle could put to an end.

“You think this is
easy
? That once I say it’s over it’ll be
easy
to move on?”

“It must be, considering how
easy
it was to leave
me
behind after you started the damned thing.”

“What are you talking about?”

Anger filled me to the point I was seeing red.

“How dare you!” I sucked in a deep breath and let it out with the broiling words. “You don’t remember? You don’t
remember
how you tried to
sneak out
unnoticed and then when I
caught
you? You handed me an envelope of money and basically said, ‘I’ll be back, I’ll never leave you, not really. This should be enough until next time. I love you, sis, take care,’ and then you
never
came back!” I was laughing like someone who was deranged and ready for the kill. I was filled with anger and turmoil.

“You made that
stupid
promise you made up and it meant nothing in that moment. The only reason I even came back to you was because you said you needed me. I did
that
for
you.
What are you doing for
me?”

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he slammed my bedroom door shut so hard that it rattled and echoed through the halls. When duty called, he was nowhere to be found. When he cried to me, begging for help, I was there. I took a bullet for him and I didn’t believe he would do the same for me. The gauntlet had been thrown. There was no going back now. My words would play again and again in his head, and his betrayal would replay in mine. I didn’t think I could live without him before, but now I realized that I could, though it was something I was going to have to learn I needed to find out what kind of person I was without him, without Mackynsie, and without all the media telling me who I was. All of these people and things had defined me for so long, I had forgotten how I used to define myself. It was time I found out, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready.

However, as my therapist said: “When you realize there’s something, that’s the starting point to change it.”

So now that I realized I’d let people and things define who I was, I was going to change that and learn and decide what defined me. Just me. No one else could do this, only I could.

I added a creative writing class, a psychology course, and college level algebra to my school schedule. I didn’t know if this would help me figure out what I wanted to do, but I felt that maybe it was a start. Because really, all I needed to do was start. From there anything could happen.

CHAPTER FOUR

After months of working as a cocktail waitress, I made enough tips to move to Connecticut in time for the beginning of the semester. However, I decided not to move so quickly. I still needed a car, and paying for school had depleted my funds. I was headed to freshman orientation and to attend a luncheon with some faculty and students. Summer had ended all too quickly, and with the release of Eden Sank’s new album came the official breakup letter. The boys moved on from one another, though Ben promised they were still friends.

After many trips from Hanover to Hartford, I knew exactly how long it took to travel. It took three buses from Hanover, New Hampshire to get me to Hartford, Connecticut. I had done it plenty of times. I had gone to campus and got through mountains of paperwork, had my photo taken for a student ID that I wore around my neck, and I even acquainted myself with the staff. Now I stood at the school’s entrance and I didn’t know if I could take a single step further. The anxiety was swelling up inside me and making it hard to move, to think, to breathe. It wasn’t until a rude passerby shoved me that I forced myself to move forward. I had to do this. I had to. I had to keep moving, and if I kept moving I’d be okay. But once everyone’s eyes were on me, I could feel myself shrinking.

“Bea Morrison?” someone called out.

I kept moving with my head down, and I could hear the snapping of videos and the buzzing voices of excited fans. I didn’t want to call them fans because I wasn’t someone who should have fans. I wasn’t famous. If I was, it was only by association with my brother. Not to mention Everett.

Oh god,
Everett.

Everything began to fade around me, and when someone got up in my personal space, taking a video, I shoved them away and ran into the nearest building, completely falling apart at the seams.

“Someone come help this girl!” I heard someone shout. When someone came up to me, I backed away hesitantly.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. What’s happening?”

“Everyone…everyone is out to get me.” I didn’t know why I said it, but it made sense. It felt right. It felt true.

“Everyone out there?”

I nodded. “They’re taking photos, videos too. They were following me and calling out my name.”

“What is your name?”

“Bea Morrison.”

The woman tried not to act so surprised at the mention of my name. “Come sit down. Let’s talk.” Once we were seated, I was given a bottle of water and a pack of crackers. I tried to sip and chew quietly while the girl who was supposed to be comforting me stared at me.

“So, I know this isn’t appropriate, but—”

“Yes, I’m
the
Ben Morrison’s little sister.”

She sighed. “You get that a lot, don’t you?”

I shrugged. “It’s my fault.”

“How? You didn’t get to pick him as a brother.”

“I chose to go public about our family. I chose to become a public figure.”

She sighed. “You’re not a public figure.”

“I am now. Everyone wants a picture of me, everyone wants to know about me.”

“How does that make you feel?”

“Like I made the wrong choice.”

The unnamed girl and I sat in silence while I started to calm down.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Lia,” she said. It was pretty, and so was she.

“What is this place?” Looking around the large building, I realized I was in one of many rooms. This room was painted a dusty blue that calmed the senses. It had a couch and a few chairs, each with at least two pillows on them. The couch also had what looked like a handmade knitted blanket. I could tell it was handmade by the way the knitting had been done. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t something you could buy for cheap. The walls had posters and a few picture frames with motivational quotes on them.

“This is a peer-counseling center. We help each other. It’s a thing from the psychology and social work department.”

“Right. Are you a senior?” I asked her. She seemed older and more put together than some of the other people here.

“Yeah, I am. I’m graduating in the spring. I don’t really go here, I volunteer here.”

“Oh, okay. So you go to a different school?”

“Yep. I’m a psychology major.”

I laughed. “Of course.”

“What?”

“You’re a psychology major, and I’m practically telling you my life story.”

“You haven’t told me the whole story. I’m pretty good at keeping secrets if you want to talk about it.”

Somehow her words made me feel comforted. So I did what she said was okay to do; I took a leap and I told her about my entire life. My eyes didn’t stay dry through the whole ordeal, and I was pretty sure I had missed all but one class.

“We can keep in touch. For now you should probably go get that paperwork finished and grab your student ID.”

Before I left we exchanged numbers. Looking to my schedule, I only had five classes this semester. English Composition, College Algebra, Biology, American History and Advanced Drawing.

“Oh, you’re taking Advanced Drawing too?” someone asked.

“Yeah, how did you—?”

“Oh, sorry. I read it over your shoulder. I hear Professor Long is really hot. I even heard something about how he prefers students over his wife.” The random girl laughed, and I smiled awkwardly.

“Good to know. I should get going.” This tidbit of information, whether it was true or not, was disconcerting. I didn’t want to be a part of a class where students became possible jailbait. Even though I was over the legal age of consent, I was still pretty sure that screwing your teacher was against the law. I was
really
hoping he wasn’t as hot as this girl claimed he was, because if he wasn’t, it’d be easier to avoid falling into bed with him.

***

Before classes started, I had admitted in family therapy, which now was only Ben and me, that the only reason I hadn’t moved yet was because I didn’t have reliable transportation. So when we got home Ben gave me Old Trusty and said that it was meant for me anyways according to Everett’s will. I didn’t want it after that, but I needed a car.

Ben then took me to Hartford to look for apartments, and I moved into one the same day. Ben decided to help me furnish my apartment, and even though I refused to let him go to Pottery Barn, Ikea, or Pier 1 Imports, I did let him take me to Target. I got a decent bed from someone on Craigslist. It was a Tempur-Pedic, and the guy who owned it apparently didn’t have room for it. I let Ben buy me one expensive thing though: a dog. More specifically, a yellow Lab.

“He’ll be perfect for you,” Ben said as I sat on my couch with the growing pup lounging beside me. “He’ll grow pretty fast. He’s already six months old.”

“He’s perfect. Thank you.” I meant it when I said it. I was hoping that he would believe that.

“I’m going to miss you.”

“It’s not going to be like when you were on tour. Things are different now.”

“I know. It’s weird knowing I won’t be coming home to you anymore.”

“It was bound to happen at some point, Ben.”

“I know but—”

“But what? You said you wanted me to take care of myself so I am.”

“I never got to see you grow up and now you’re living on your own. It’s hard to take in.”

“It was hard living without you, Ben. I’ve managed through all that crap. I can do this on my own. I did it while you were off being big and famous. Because while you were doing that, you didn’t bother calling or checking in on me, yet here I am. Or have you forgotten?”

That was enough to make him leave. When he did, and I was sure he wasn’t coming back, I began to cry. It was so lonely. Before, I had the smell of alcohol, drugs, and the company of my mother to keep me safe. Even though she never once kept me safe from anything or anyone, I felt safe knowing someone was there. Now it was me, this new dog and a baseball bat hidden in my coat closet.

The first few days in my apartment were spent with Roscoe the dog and a baseball bat together on the couch with me while I watched Netflix on my laptop until I had to start my assignments for school. I had my first day already, and I hadn’t been able to see Professor Long. His class was on a different day than the rest. Today, however, I got to meet him. His dusty blond hair and brown eyes made me think of Roscoe when I saw him. He wasn’t half bad to look at, though I still thought of a slobbering dog as I watched him. We had assigned seating, and before I even had the chance to sit down I heard someone snapping a picture of me.

“For God’s sake,” I whispered.

“Is there a problem already?” Professor Long asked. It was a small studio classroom, so it wasn’t easy to hide things from him.

“Someone took a picture of me.”

“Are you certain?” he asked, eyeing me curiously.

“I know what it sounds like when people take my photo without permission.”

“Can you point to the person who took your photo?”

“Well, no.”

“So you aren’t sure someone actually did take your photo?”

“I—”

“Alright. If that’s enough dramatics from you, Ms. Morrison, please take your seat.” The whole class whispered over how cruelly the professor had scorned me. “Everyone, we have a princess in our midst. Please don’t take pictures of her. She might not enjoy it. She can easily sue, but that isn’t very ladylike. Give her some privacy. Until you can prove your phones are not an extension of your body, if I see them out I’ll take them up.” Everyone began to complain, but I smiled a little then. Even though it was a general rule outlined in his class rules handbook, I still was happy to hear that there were no phones allowed during class.

“Alright, now let’s get to drawing, shall we? Use that thing we call imagination. Draw something you believe in. Make it abstract, not so obvious. Go on! Draw.”

I got out my supplies and began to think of something I believed in. I drew nothing but blanks. By the time class was over, he had taken up at least four phones, and four angry students went to complain to the dean.

As I was leaving, one of the older students stopped me and said, “Professor Long wants to see you. Sorry he keeps calling you Princess. He’s big on nicknames.”

I made my way down the stairs to where he was waiting, and once the lecture hall was empty, I was alone with Professor Long.

“Beatrice Morrison. My, my, my. What an honor.”

I sighed and instantly became annoyed. “Can I help you, Professor Long?”

“Sure you can. But that might be considered inappropriate considering my station here.”

My eyes narrowed as I looked at him. “Professor, I don’t like where this is going.”

“Oh, I have a feeling you will if you give it a chance.”

“Unless you want to talk about something class related, I should go.” I turned to leave when he grabbed my wrist with a strong grip, and it made me spiral around back to facing him. “Please, let me go.” I was in bargaining mode. I didn’t think he would try to hurt me, but anyone who had such a strong hold on my wrist made me believe they were capable of destruction.

“I’ll see you at that little club the students like so much. I hear you’re the best cocktail waitress they’ve got.” He let me go, and I ran out of the lecture hall before he could find a reason to keep me there. I didn’t want this. I didn’t like it and I was hoping I was wrong. God I wanted to be wrong.

***

I kept seeing Professor Long at work, and I was beginning to wonder how many waitresses I’d have to make deals with to serve him so I wouldn’t have to. I watched him from the bar, and I couldn’t tell if he was watching me or not.

“He’s asking for you again, and he can
see
you watching. Why don’t you go talk to him?” one of the other waitresses said. “He’s probably lonely.”

“He’s got a wedding ring on.”

“He may be a part of the dead wives club. He may keep it on in memoriam.”

“How likely is that?”

“I’ve got no clue. Please go talk to him. He’s keeping me from my other tables.”

I sighed and gave up. No one was willing to help me stay away from him anymore. I went up to his table and crossed my arms over my chest.

“When are you going to realize I’m only going to keep avoiding you?”

“When are you going to realize you’re missing out?” He drummed his fingers along the tabletop, and I screwed up my facial features as I looked at him.

“What am I exactly missing out on?”

“A good time with someone who knows what they’re doing.”

I laughed. “Yeah, because I’m totally missing out on that from people who tell me that.” He grabbed my wrist, and I eyed his wedding ring. “You’re married. Or you were. What about your wife?”