The Best Moments (The Amherst Sinners Book 2) Page 3

  It wasn’t always Caden’s traditional high/low. Typically the girls commandeered the chatter with gossip. It was odd to push the door open and see everyone sitting in silence like someone died. It made me swallow hard in preparation for what was coming.

  The questions.

  The judgement.

  The guilt.

  We sat down on the couch, as I glared at Caden in a way that was clearly conveying not to piss me off.

  Palmer was the only person who would go against Caden and give me some kind of subtle hint, so I knew what I was in for. She didn’t seem to have a clue what I was hinting at.

  I had forgotten all about the paranoia that comes with feeling this good. I sat back, relaxing, as I convinced myself a quiet room could just be a quiet room… but then, Caden barked in my direction: “A word. Outside. Now.”

  Everyone knew he meant me. Only I ever got the sharp side of his tongue. Everyone else he protected with so much effort, even from himself.

  I sat up again, testing him, “What, Caden? Just say whatever you need to say.”

  He looked around the room at everyone, stopping at me, with his eyes wide, threatening to say something I wouldn’t want anyone else to hear.

  I kissed Layla’s cheek before I followed him upstairs, away from the people, the music, and the party still in full swing. Caden stopped at the bottom of the stairs leaning into a pledge guarding the upstairs from drunk party goers. Sternly telling him, “Start getting people out of here. I have shit to handle.”

  Great, he wanted a practically empty house for whatever blow up this was turning into.

  I daunted up the steps, thankful I was numb to feeling emotionally for now. It made crushing his hopes in this conversation easier—guilt-free.

  He walked past my room, and I didn’t bother questioning him on his desired location. My room held all the bad memories. It would probably act as a curse after I graduated. I could just see it playing out in my head: everyone avoiding being assigned to my room.

  He waited at his bedroom door, closing it behind me, as I slumped down into an armchair next to the window. He sat across from me on his bed, just staring at me without saying a word.

  Irritated, I finally asked, “What? What’s the secret meeting about?”

  He leaned down on his elbows staring at me harder than before. “Do you wanna go back to rehab while she’s gone? She doesn’t have to know.”

  I couldn’t help laughing. It was one of the only reaction I had.

  He had a valid point. When I woke up tomorrow, I would most likely hate myself, and that guilt could quickly snowball into the same mistake twice. But I refused to agree, “That’s premature, isn’t it? One slip isn’t a full-blown addiction.”

  “I know you, Ollie. Nothing is ever a slip up with you. Everything is on purpose. And I know that most addicts relapse at least once before becoming sober for good.”

  I rolled my eyes. He clearly didn’t let any of the ridiculous facts he undoubtedly learned last year leave his mind. Apparently, I could laugh and feel annoyed, but that was it. My head leaned back, and I analyzed the ceiling instead of his words. “It’s one slip up, Caden. God damn. I’m not going to rehab for one fucking mistake.”

  Caden wanted to fight me on rehab. I saw it in his eyes and his forced hands, staying flat, in an effort to keep them from forming fists. He didn’t fight me. His eyes looked scared, and his words tiptoed around setting me off.

  “Are you telling Layla?”

  He was trying to gauge if I regretted it. But his question wasn’t determined yet. If Layla found out, the answer would be yes, I regretted breaking my sobriety and getting high. If she didn’t find out, then no, I didn’t regret going numb, just like everyone else was. The only difference was that I was using drugs, instead of getting blackout wasted.

  “No, she doesn’t need to know. And you aren’t telling her. Just because I’m high doesn’t mean I forgot about you practically waiting for her to be off my dick to tattle.”

  He was out of shape when it came to dealing with the old version of me that I had put in the past… until tonight. He wasn’t used to combating my destructive side anymore.

  I watched him get up, grabbing the baseball bat by the door. His face was tense with so much anger I debated asking if it hurt.

  He was dramatic, but I still tensed up, not sure where he was going with this. My chest and abs tensed so hard I felt stiff. I wasn’t able to predict his next move like normal. I felt my lungs stop taking deep breaths.

  He lifted the bat taking a swift swing at the empties on his desk. “You’re not scary, Ollie. You’re just high as fuck.” He took another swing destroying his trophies for his athletic days that were only on display to boost his own ego. “I’m not scared of you hurting my fucking feelings. I’m scared I’m gonna walk by your room, and I won’t fucking be in time, the next time around.”

  I tried to ignore that last part. It was bullying how numb I felt, trying to force my not feeling away so that I could hurt.

  Every time the bat collided against the objects, I tensed just that much more in the armchair. This kind of high wasn’t meant to be faced with intense feelings. No high was really. Cocaine still left you aware compared to other drugs. It just made you focus on the good feelings and numbed the rest.

  He handed me the bat that my fingers lazily held. It balanced itself under my lightest touch, as I waited for him to say something.

  “Go ahead. Do some damage. I know your MO: You get upset and break things—stuff, people, yourself. There’s nothing in this room I care about.”

  I watched him scan the room, confirming there was nothing left of value.

  “I might be high, but I don’t need to trash your room. That isn’t going to force some great epiphany.” I stood up, leaving the bat to hold itself up against the chair, “I’m guessing you told everyone, and that’s why it was so quiet?”

  Caden shook his head no, and I was pleasantly surprised by his candor. I knew he wanted to, but betrayal was something he didn’t mess with.

  He tugged my arm as I walked away. “Just this one night, Ollie. Or I take drastic measures.”

  There was only one person who scared me, and it wasn’t him. It wasn’t even my dad. It was Layla, with her almost confession when she was under me earlier and the unknowingness of her coming back. I wanted to confess the same thing, but all week I mentally fought myself. Me, confessing how much I was falling for her wasn’t going to make it easier when she left. Only harder…

  I nudged out of his grip, anticipating what I knew I had to say in order for him to back down. “Drastic measures? One little line isn’t going to kill me, Caden. One line is nothing but the same as you taking a fucking pain killer. It’s nothing when you averaged 20 lines a day.” I paused, because something inside me tugged and pleaded with me not to let my words go any further. I had every intention of breaking his hope in me.

  I swung open his door, letting it hit the adjacent wall. I needed to find Layla. Tonight was easily becoming about something else entirely, when I only had so much time with her left.

  She was playing pong with Palmer. She was officially even more drunk by the time I found her. I wondered if she got this much drunker because she wasn’t able to confess. The wonder didn’t amount to guilt, just a fleeting thought.

  I was thankful; maybe she wouldn’t notice my paranoia or how I cut her confession off.

  I watched her laugh, filling the now quiet house, as she made some lucky shots without trying. There was no way she was focusing and this drunk at the same time. I loved her laugh. Saying that in my head felt like the truth, but I couldn’t feel the warmth of comfort overwhelm me. I was still only working with anger and laughter.

  She turned to me, excited, like she just realized she wanted to tell me something. “Can you drive me to the airport on Monday? I was gonna take a Lyft with B, but now Caden is taking her.”

  Palmer hugged her from behind, as they both made pleading faces. I d
idn’t want to agree, but I didn’t want to be “the bad” boyfriend either. I tried to convince myself her elation was worth nodding my head yes. At least it would be, when I could feel everything again.

  I held my phone in my hand, looking at the blank screen with a simple Jade at the top. I texted her: Sunday night. I need something strong. Vicodin or something.

  She didn’t hesitate, and I watched the dots flash in and out. It was like she was waiting for me to text. I left you a gift under your pillow. Still need that something strong?

  Relief washed over me. There was no way I was dropping Layla off sober. It was just one more day, then I could figure out how to deal with the pain, the guilt, and not telling her I felt the same way, before she flew away. I knew there were healthier ways. I did the program and all the therapy. None of those ways worked as quickly. Those “healthy” ways meant soul searching, self-reflection, and time alone, which were coming soon but not tonight.

  Layla wrapped her arms around my neck, whispering to me, “Take me to bed.”

  I didn’t need to hear any more. Her innocent eyes and voice in a soft whisper made me fall harder. I’d jump off a bridge if she said it like that.

  I didn’t bother saying goodnight to anyone except Palmer, when our fists bumped into each other quickly. I followed Layla upstairs to my room. All I could anticipate was the surprise under my pillow. She immediately started getting undressed, like she was the opposite of comfortable in her clothes.

  I wasn’t prepared when she asked, “Where were you all night? You disappeared.”

  Between finding Jade and Caden’s lecture, I hadn’t been by her side as much as I wanted. “Sorry, babe. It was a crazy night.”

  She went into the bathroom to do whatever girls do before bed. She spoke louder so I could hear her: “Did you find Jade?”

  I watched her, while I pushed my hands under my pillows to find a small plastic bag filled with a cream color powder. I knew exactly what it was. It was more than I requested, but in moderation, it truly was just a pain killer.

  I had forgotten to answer, and she poked her head out of the doorway. “Did you?”

  I snapped up straight, facing her, while I tucked the baggy in my back pocket behind my phone. I finally just shook my head no, hoping that would suffice. I should have felt anxious or scared of her catching me, but I didn’t. This wasn’t my first time hiding small baggies.

  The rest of the night was smooth, just like the next day. I made a point of putting my phone on silent and spent every minute with Layla, after I blew her off the entire party, except for when we had sex. I wasn’t even counting that, considering we were both too turned on to last more than a few moments. I made up for the quickie by taking her from behind in the shower the next morning. Her chest was pressed against the shower tiles, overwhelmed by my position. She didn’t make a second attempt at her confession. She was too busy begging me to keep going every time I slowed down.

  She fell asleep to the movie tucked between my arm and my body. Her bag was packed and waiting by the door with B’s. Unlike her friend’s, Layla’s bag was a carry-on. I felt some comfort in her small bag, knowing that would force her back here for more of her stuff. Her flight was at 7 AM, only a few hours away. I couldn’t sleep, even if I tried. I had been awake all night, picking out imperfections in the ceiling, like cracks or chips…

  I spent the day sober.

  The small bag taunted me every time I looked at the desk against the wall. It wasn’t until this moment looking down at the girl I was falling for that I reconsidered. This was going to be the only time I had time “alone” until she left, and I certainly couldn’t risk sniffing up lines on the drive to the airport. I only ever did that in front of Jade.

  I slowly pulled my body away from hers, being careful not to wake her. I was light on my feet when I made my way to my desk and pulled the handle, exposing the same book Jade had used to make perfect lines. I had the baggy between the pages, letting the coke live between Jane and Mr. Rochester, like his secret wife.

  The book felt like our lives, set in another time, more and more.

  I looked behind me; she was still asleep with her lips parted. In a few swift steps, I was alone in the bathroom, with the door locked, just in case. I searched the bathroom for anything to help get the powder from the bag to my nose with little mess.

  Jade gave me a solid gold nasal vacuum, but that was in my other bedroom on a top shelf so people would ask why I had a figure of a Hoover vacuum. It was our inside joke.

  I had to settle on dumping some out on the counter and dusting it off after. Which is exactly what I did. I took the same amount: one sniff—nothing more or less. I was steady and empty enough with one sniff. I was afraid what two or three would do. It had been too long, and my body was reacting to it all, like I never had won over an addiction.

  I watched her sleeping in my bed for the last time in the armchair with the book on my lap. I gobbled up every detail, down to her faint movements and quick breaths every so often.

  Who was gonna sleep in my bed now? I certainly never did.

  There was that nagging feeling again like an annoying child tugging on the hem of your shirt, because it’s all they could reach. That annoying child was my heart, tugging on the rest of me, telling me to be careful or she was going to be a downfall I wouldn’t win over.

  During the whole drive to the airport, Oliver seemed distant—not physically, as he sat in the driver’s seat in his tiny car, but emotionally. He wasn’t currently capable of even holding a conversation with me. He was utilizing shrugs and one word replies.

  I should have pushed to all carpool, but B gave me wild eyes and I knew that meant I really didn’t want to be in the car with her and Caden.

  He had been keeping me at arm’s length the whole weekend. We went to the party on Saturday, and I saw him all of 20 minutes when we had sex in his room before the party ended. Caden and the elusive Jade had commandeered his attention—the people who would be around him while I was 1, 293 miles away.

  Suddenly I hated the distance.

  We were following Caden, and he pulled all the way to the top floor of the parking garage. It made me smile, thinking he was purposely trying to get more time with B—unlike Oliver, who couldn’t be more disinterested.

  I grabbed my oversized weekender from his trunk, before I saw them. I felt my cheeks flush seeing B’s body lean into Caden’s—both against his car. Their mouths were wide and their tongues wrestling. I quickly looked away, but their energy kept pulling my eyes back for quick glances.

  Their chemistry was uncomfortably obvious. It was too raw, not manufactured or forced like some unrealistic romance film. I felt like I was watching a romantic plot unfold: damaged boy meets a carefree girl, who inspires positive changes in his life. I was falling in love with them more than either of them probably even felt about their status.

  I looked at Oliver, who was pushing the cigarette away from his mouth and holding the smoke down until he was ready to exhale. I wished he could read my mind. I wanted him to take my hand or kiss me in a passionate goodbye, like the couple next to us. Asking only made it authentic on my end not his. Instead, he seemed focused elsewhere.

  Caden offered to walk with us inside, but B insisted we could manage. Caden pulled her back against him before he shifted their bodies around landing him against her. His hands were against his huge SUV, and her arms were around his neck. Suddenly I caught myself imagining their private moments, contemplating if romance played a part or if it was simply rough and ache quenching. I felt myself stir up my own arousal, and I forced my focus off them.

  I closed the gap between my body and Oliver’s, making him look at me finally. I whispered, “Guess this is farewell for now, huh? It’ll fly by.”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

  His response was soul-crushing, but I continued trying anyways. I let my hands land on his shoulders lightly, and he shot up as if I caught him off guard.

  Ca
den shot over, “You good?” He was aware at all times, and it was unnerving.

  Oliver’s rigid face softened, as he looked at Caden. I felt his eyes continue to watch us, as Oliver put on a show, acting like himself. I felt his hands touch my hips as he sat on the hood of his car. I knew this trick better than anyone. Florida didn’t have room for unhappiness; it was too beautiful. That was the saying: “What do you have to be unhappy about? Look at where we live.”

  He had no excuse. The trees looked like fragile sticks; the cold air felt like a lash against your skin; and the remaining snow pushed against the curbs wasn’t even pearly white anymore.

  His stiffness transferred to me now, and I said, “I know this isn’t easy, and it isn’t the best time, since we just got together.”

  “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t do well with this kind of shit.”

  I expected him to explain more, but his words stopped.

  “Okay, well, I don’t think this is helping. I’d rather leave here remembering us not… well, this version.”

  He flicked the small cigarette butt that had no more life left. “What the hell do you want from me, Layla? Tell me, and I’ll be that. I’m not gonna sit here and act like I’m over-fucking-joyed. I wouldn’t have started this if I knew you were leaving; that would have saved us both from feeling this way.”

  What every girl wants to hear: exactly how much we weren’t worth it. I could feel a fire burning inside my stomach. The fire was hot enough to keep my eyes dry. This was the angriest I had ever felt. It wasn’t just anger; it was betrayal and pangs of heartache.

  I was convinced he wasn’t feeling anything. In addition to his expression becoming stiff, his eyes looked blank, and beyond that, the distance between us made it even more difficult to see him.

  I wanted him to feel just as awful as I did at that moment, in the worst desire for vengeance. I never wanted to hurt someone so equally—not even after Hunter happened. I didn’t have the energy or motivation as I did now.