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Authors: Tracey Ward

Brawler (17 page)

BOOK: Brawler
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So a donkey walks into a bar...

I laughed out loud when I read it, then I just stared at it. At her name on my phone, her picture on my screen, the old joke war revived. It was like her own version of a reset button, her olive branch. It was us at our best. It was everything I had hoped to get back and I was so grateful to her for trying to give it to me. To us.

I set down my fourth beer of the afternoon and quickly typed back,
And the bartender asks, 'Why the long face?' You’re a dork. Thanks for the smile, Nonpareil.

“What are you smilin’ at, Coulter?” Kris called from the grill. “You’re missing the game.”

“Worth it, man.”

“Who are you talking to? Your girl?”

“Yeah,” I replied, my smile fading. I picked up my beer and brought it to my lips. “Yeah, it’s my girl.”

I got wasted that night. I did it to stop myself from getting on my bike and driving down to see her. To see Jenna. Because that’s what I wanted, whether I was with Laney or not, and all it’d taken was a text. Jenna was in my blood and I’d never get her out. I’d tasted her. I’d held her. I’d known what it was to have her be mine for just a minute, but it was enough. Too much. I’d never be able to look at her without remembering.

I was in deep shit, so I got smashed to contain it.

I was hung over the next morning and the urge was still there, so I got drunk again to make it stop. I kept that cycle for three days until finally I ran out of booze and I didn’t feel like going to the store to get more. Instead I laid on my bed and I waited for the anxiety to creep through the fog and find its way back into my belly.

It never came. All that was left was an empty numbness. A cold in my skin that crept into my muscles until my bed felt hard as a rock under my back.

Laney found me that way the next morning when she came to visit. I had a temperature of a hundred and two but my body was covered in a cold sweat and I was shivering violently. She made me soup to eat because I couldn’t swallow anything solid and she put she in a lukewarm bath until my temperature started to drop and the shivering subsided. Then she sat on the bed next to me for two days straight watching TV. Barely any talking, but no touching either. All she did was stay with me. It was a side of her I’d never seen before. A side of us I’d never known could exist.

Neither of us were in love, not the way people were in books and movies or the way Karen and Dan were, but you couldn’t be with someone as long as we’d been together and not feel some sort of affection for them. What I had to give her was enough for her, and what she gave me… it wasn’t what I wanted, but it was what I deserved. It was the best I could hope for.

And in my fever induced haze, I thought that made for a perfect solution.

 

 

 

I was a dumb, fucking idiot.

“Congratulations, Kellen.”

“Thank you.”

A conductor on a train heading for a blown out bridge.

And I had thrown coal on the fire.

“You make a beautiful couple.”

“Yes.”

A Ken doll with a perfect face, no damn balls, and a shell of a human body.

“We’re doing the announcement soon. You need a glass for the toast.”

“I’ll go grab a drink.”

I walked away from Karen in her somber red cocktail dress and waded through the sea of dark suits and jewel encrusted women, shimmering and undulating like stars reflected on water. The living room had been emptied of furniture to allow more space for the horde of people brought in for the dinner party and the big announcement that it seemed like everyone already knew. It was supposed to stay a secret, but Laney had never been good at that.

I wasn’t the only one shoveling coal on this fire.

In the kitchen I snagged a wine glass off a tray, yanked open the freezer, and pulled out the frosty clear bottle of vodka I’d stowed in there earlier that day. It was full when I’d hidden it. It was on the southern side of half empty now. I filled the wineglass about halfway with the crystal clear liquid then added a small amount of apple juice from the fridge until it vaguely resembled white wine.

I hated white wine, but who was going to notice? Who was paying attention?

No one. Not even me. Not anymore.

I glanced at the clock as I left the kitchen. Seven fifty. It was almost time.

Back in the living room, surrounded by perfume, cologne, and the soft jazz Karen had wafting through the central sound system, I stood at the edge of my universe and watched it move. I watched my future dance in front of me set to music that was making me jittery.

I watched a girl I didn’t like float through the room laughing and smiling, and I felt nothing.

I saw the only girl I’d ever loved grin at another man, and it killed me inside.

Jenna stood out dark and stormy in the middle of a room full of pearls. Her makeup was smokier, her hair longer, and her laugh louder than anyone around her. She shone like a star guiding me over a dark, frothing sea, and even though I knew it was wrong, I couldn’t stay away. The siren call of her smile, her body, pulled me forward. I’d dash my rickety ship against the rocks being near her, and it’d be worth it. All of it. All of me for one infinitesimal breath of her.

I came to stand behind her close enough that I could smell the lotion on her skin, warm and sweet. Like cookies coming out of the oven.

"I see you've met Alexander," I said deeply, standing behind her and nodding to the grinning shitbag.

She nodded her head stiffly, small shining diamonds swaying from her ears with the movement. They looked strange on her, the way the dark wrap covering her shoulders and tattoos felt out of place. The way her talking to this douche in a suit felt wrong. "We just met.”

"Jenna's going to give me some tattoo advice,” Alexander told me happily. “Has she done any ink on you, Kellen?"

"No,” I replied, refusing to look at him. “I don't have any."

"I'm surprised. You're a fighter, right?"

"Boxer," Jenna corrected.

"Oh," Alexander said, giving her a curious look. "Still, though. I would have thought you had something."

I raised my glass to my lips and took a hard drink. "I'm not good with commitment.”

He laughed. "I would hope that's not true. Aren't you en—"

"Do you mind if I steal Jenna away for a second?" I interrupted, taking Jenna’s arm at the elbow.

He nodded politely. "Sure, of course. It was good to see you. Jenna, great to meet you."

She smiled at him. "You too."

I pulled her gently to the edge of the room where I’d stood watching her with him like a stalker. I felt like a territorial little dog pulling his toy from the mouth of another animal and bringing it back to his lair to protect it. I was losing it. I was doing everything wrong and I had no idea how to make any of it right. Every time I tried to fix something I only made it worse. I was spiraling, dropping down and spinning out, and the only thing that kept me sane in that moment was the feel of Jenna’s skin under my hand.

"That guy is a douchebag," I muttered as I reluctantly let her go.

She shrugged. "I liked him."

I shook my head, unable to find words that didn’t sound like I was the jealous caveman that I was.

“You’re drunk,” she said suddenly. She eyed the wineglass in my hand, her eyes troubled. “Is that vodka?”

I stared at her in disbelief. “What are you? A witch? How could you know that?”

“Because I know you. Why are you drinking like this tonight? Are you okay?”

“I am what I am and that’s all that I am,” I answered dryly.

She frowned. “What is that?”

“The words of a brilliant man.”

“I am what I am…” she muttered quietly to herself. “I’m Popeye, the Sailor Man?”

“Nailed it.” I leaned in closer to her. Too close. Never close enough. “You know everything."

"That's simply not true."

"I could say anything to you and you’d get it, wouldn’t you?”

She studied my face, her own turning sad. “Not everything, no. Some things you say stump me.”

I straightened up, feeling my head begin to pound. “I don’t understand it any more than you do. I don’t like it any more either.”

“But you are who you are and that’s all that you are,” she sang softly.

“I’m the Tin Man, Dorothy,” I agreed, pounding on my empty chest so she could hear the echo resonate through its hollow chamber. “I’m running on empty.”

“We’re mixing a lot of genres here.”

I nodded in glum agreement, taking a long drink. “Life is messy like that.”

“Can I have some?”

“You’re only seventeen,” I teased, knowing it was bad taste but I did it anyway because I was out of my damn mind.

She ripped the glass from my hand, casting me a hot glare. I preferred it to the sorrow. I’d rather she hated me than felt sad over me. “Too soon to be funny,” she spat before taking a quick sip of my drink. She grimaced slightly as it slid down her throat.

I’d never seen her drink anything before.

“Are
you
okay?” I asked, taking my glass back.

“I’m great,” she wheezed. “What time is it?”

Too late,
I thought morosely.

I needed to stop drinking.

I lifted my arm to look for the time, but I couldn’t get my watch to come out. Jenna grabbed my arm and turned it to face her, her body momentarily stepping into my space and pushing my resolve. I fought the urge to wrap my arms around her, bury my face in her neck, tell her all my sins, and beg her to tell me how to be all the things I wanted to be. How to be the man in the painting with the power and the control and the life and the energy, because lately I felt like the absolute opposite. I was lost. Rudderless. I was wandering the empty sea and the night was pulling away. Dawn was coming and my star was fading, and where the fuck would I end up without her there to guide me home?

I had no idea, but the thought chilled me down into my marrow.

"Pumpkin time," she said victoriously, stepping away and unbuttoning her wrap.

"Are you stripping?" I asked, watching with interest.

She rolled her eyes. "What is it with guys tonight? Porn star? Stripper? I gotta work on my vibe."

"Who called you a porn star?” I asked hotly, my temper flaring. “Douchebag back there?"

She waved me off. "Don't worry about it. I'm off the clock. Mom gave me the okay to leave after eight which means I can get clear of this crowd, ditch the death black clothes and salvage this Saturday night." She refused to meet my eyes and as she went to leave, she gave me a small, sterile salute. "Good luck. Lay off the vodka, you're one drink away from sloppy."

I grabbed her arm. “Wait.”

“What?” she asked, her eyes going tight at the corners.

“There’s something I need to tell you before you go.”

She frowned, put on alert by my grip and tone. “What’s wrong?”

“Kellen!” Laney called. She waved from across the room where she stood next to Dan and Karen.

It was time.

“Shit,” I groaned.

Jenna’s arm went rigid in my hand. “What’s happening?”

“I wanted to tell you before it happened. I wanted to be the one.”

Her eyes went wide as she looked rapidly between my face and her family waiting for me at the head of the room. She was a smart girl. She knew.

“No,” she breathed.

“Jenna.”

“Oh, Kel, no,” she moaned sadly. Her eyes found mine and they were full of pity and confusion.

I took hold of her shoulders, my drink sloshing over the rim and coating her in alcohol. “Wait, just wait,” I pleaded, as though she could somehow make it all stop for me.

“Kellen!” Laney repeated.

“Just wait!” I snapped desperately, my eyes locked on Jenna’s.

She looked around nervously and I knew people were watching. “Kellen, you need to get up there.”

“You need to listen to me first.”

“Then talk fast. People are staring.”

“Fuck people.”

“What do you need to tell me?” she whispered fervently. “That you put a ring on it? I see that.”

“No. I need you to promise me.”

“Promise what?”

“Kellen!”

Dammit! Damn all of this, especially me!

I gripped Jenna’s shoulders harder, holding her in place until she was all I could see. All that mattered. All that would be left when the world was done with me. When they all realized that their golden pauper prince was an idiot asshole and they turned their backs on me. She’d have more reason than any of them, but still I pleaded with her because if there was anything redeemable left inside me someday, she would find it, so I begged her the way she had once begged me. I asked her to never walk away. I needed her to promise—

“That you’ll never quit on me.”

Tears filled her eyes, but she didn’t look away. “Kel,” she whispered unhappily.

“Other people already have,” I whispered hurriedly. “More will. But not you. Never you. Promise me.”

She searched my eyes, took a sharp shuddering breath, and nodded her head. “I promise you.”

I pulled her toward me and kissed her forehead. I wanted to do more but I’d already burned that bridge. So instead of taking her down with me, I owned my mistakes, accepted my fate, and I kissed her softly goodbye. I exhaled shakily against her skin; my last breath, and with it I left everything behind with her. Every last piece of myself that had ever been worth anything to anyone, the part of me that loved her beyond reason and restraint, because I couldn’t take it with me where I was going. If I left it with her – if it stayed in her skin, in her eyes, in her mind – maybe I wouldn’t disappear entirely.

Maybe someday she’d remember me, recall me to life, and pull me from under the weight of the darkness.

As I walked away from her, eyes all around the room drilling into me until I was cut down to nearly nothing, I slipped down inside myself. I went numb as I stood beside Laney and held up my glass. As her mom made the announcement. As Laney held up her hand to show off the ring I’d given her – the one she’d chosen for me to give her – and the room erupted in cheers and calls of congratulations. I scanned the room but I didn’t see anything. Even when I knew I was looking at Jenna, I didn’t see her. I couldn’t. I’d fallen too far inside.

So far I didn’t know if I could find my way out again.

BOOK: Brawler
10.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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