Fading (18 page)

"Because...it makes me feel cheap—dirty." My stomach is in knots talking about this. I don't want to be talking about this. I never want to talk about this.

Mark places his hands on my shoulders and looks me straight in the eyes. "You aren't either of those things, not even close. What happened doesn't make you cheap or dirty or whatever else you're thinking. It happened, and you have been punishing yourself ever since."

"Candace," Jase adds, "He's right. You can't keep doing this to yourself. You can't keep taking this wound and ripping it further open beyond repair. You have to try and leave it be, and allow it to heal."

"I don't know," I say.

"I'm proud of you," Jase says. "I honestly didn't think you would come out with us tonight. Thought you might back out." He smiles at me, and I lean forward between the seats to hug him.

"I'm glad I came," I say as I sit back.

Mark takes my hand, kisses it, and says, "Think about what we said."

Nodding my head, I say, "Okay."

Mark hops out, gets back behind the wheel, and drives me home. When he pulls up to the front of my house, Jase asks, "You want us to stay over?"

"I'm fine, Jase. Thanks again, guys." I give them both a kiss and step out of the car. When I walk inside, Kimber is gone. I go to my room, strip off my clothes, throw on a pair of pajama pants and a cami, and take a sleeping pill before climbing into bed.

"
I hate you!" Roxy shouts, a few octaves above normal, while she teasingly shoves my shoulder. "I love that band! How did you even get tickets?"

"Jase got the tickets from one of his friends," I say as I shrug my shoulders as if it was no big deal that I got to see The xx in a private concert last weekend.

"Man, I need to meet this
friend
so that I can score some tickets too."

Looking up at her while I'm refilling the coffee beans in the grinder, I say, "You have met him. Well, you've seen him."

"Who?"

Securing the burlap bag with the remaining beans, I tell her, "That guy that came in the other day, the one you said was
hot
."

Giving my shoulder another playful shove, she says, "You're kidding?!"

"Nope," I huff out as I carry the heavy bag into the back stockroom. When I walk back out, Roxy is standing there staring at me with her hands on her hips and an evil grin on her face. I roll my eyes when I walk past her and continue cleaning up before my shift ends in a few minutes. I can feel her stare when I finally turn around and snap, "What?"

"That's it?"

"Yes, that's it." I turn back around and continue wiping down the machines.

Roxy sidles up next to me, leaning her hip against the counter with her arms crossed in front of her. "Was he there?"

"Yes, Rox, he was there," I say as I continue to busy myself with cleaning.

"You're driving me crazy here. Talk to me, girl."

Turning around, I say matter-of-factly, "There is nothing to tell. We went out, ran into him at Spines, had a drink. There is no crazy story to tell."

I start untying my apron when I notice Roxy eying me with a strange look on her face. "Really? No story to tell," she says as she tilts her head toward the entrance.

I look up to see Ryan walking through the shop, heading to the counter.
What is he doing here?
Looking at Roxy, I shake my head at her as I make my way over to him.

"You're gonna get an ulcer," I jokingly say, even though I'm a ball of nerves on the inside.

He lets out a soft chuckle as he says, "I didn't come for coffee."

I look at him with slight confusion when he lifts his hand, which is holding my leopard scarf. The scarf I was wearing last weekend that I thought I'd lost.

"Oh," I say as I reach out and take it. "I thought I had lost this. Thank you."

"No, you left it on the table, but you rushed out so fast, I didn't have a chance to catch you."

Looking down, embarrassed about my sudden exit that night, I quietly say, "Sorry."

"No need to apologize."

With my apron still clutched in my one hand, I lay it on the counter and start backing away when he asks, "Are you taking a break?"

"Um, no. My shift is over."

"Perfect timing," he says with a grin. "Want to have a quick drink?"

Before I can decline, Roxy butts in and answers for me. "She'd love to."

"Actually, I..." I don't finished my sentence because I can't think of an excuse fast enough, and I am totally busted. Letting a slow breath out of my nose, I reluctantly agree. "Sure. Let me go grab my bag."

When I walk into the back room to get my purse, I'm feeling very uneasy. Heading back out, Ryan is sitting down at one of the tables by the front window. I walk over and sit down. He already has a drink for me, and as I eye it he says, "Your co-worker said you like hot tea."

Sitting down in front of him, I say, "Oh, thanks. She's actually my boss. Roxy." I sound like an idiot with my voice slightly trembling. I pick up the tea and take a long drink, focusing on the hot, floral infused liquid as it slowly heats my chest. The rain is pouring down outside, and I watch the raindrops as they trickle and twitch down the foggy glass window.

"Did Mark tell you we are heading down to Mount Rainier on Saturday?"

I look up at him and reply, "Yeah, Jase mentioned something like that to me."

"You should come with us."

The nerves I thought I had just gotten under control return. Why is he inviting me to go hiking with him?

"I don't know," I say. "I have a lot of studying I need to get done." This is my go-to excuse when I want to back out of something. But I notice him staring at me with a look that screams
I know you're lying
.

"Well, if you change your mind, we are heading out in the morning around eight."

Nodding my head, I take another sip of my tea.

"How did you know I would be here today?" I ask.

He grins at me before replying, "I didn't. I just thought I would stop by, and if you weren't here, I was just going to leave your scarf with whomever was working."

"I didn't mean for that to come out rude," I apologize.

"It didn't."

As we sit there in awkward silence sipping our hot drinks, he finally speaks and asks, "So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?"

"I have class in a couple hours, then I go to studio until five o'clock."

"Studio?"

"It's dance class," I explain.

Nodding his head, he asks, "You do that every day?"

"Yep. Two hours a day except for Tuesdays and Thursdays, which are three hours. But I tend to go in on the weekends as well for extra practice."

"That's a lot. When do you have time for anything else?"

Pressing my lips together and shaking my head, I say, "I don't"

"That bother you?"

"No...Why?" I ask.

"I don't know. When do you ever get down time?"

Down time isn't an option for me. The more occupied my time is, the less my mind tends to drift. "I don't. But I love dance, so I consider that my down time. It relaxes me."

Ryan continues to ask questions about dance and school as time begins to pass gently by. When I finish my tea, he notices and offers to get me another. I decline, knowing that I need to head home and clean up before going back to campus. He walks me out to where my car is parked and reminds me to think about the hiking trip the guys have planned. I tell him I will before getting into my car.

Storming out of the double doors of the studio, I head straight to my car, slide in, and slam the door shut. Frustrated, I grab the steering wheel and lay my head against my hands. My heart pounds fast, and I can still here the echoing of Ms. Emerson's hasty remarks in my head:
Get it together, Candace! Where is your head at?
CLAP! CLAP!
Feel it! Come on!

I am so humiliated. I have never been yelled at like that in class before, but I feel like what she is asking for is outside of my control. My feet are flawless, I have no doubts about that, but I know what she's wanting, and I just can't give it to her. Inside that studio is the one place, the only place, where my head is free—where I am free. I don't want to lose that, lose the escape, the freedom, the nothingness.

She hammered me for nearly the entire two hours. I kept my eyes focused, but I could hear the sneers from a few of the other girls.

As I'm driving home, my phone rings from inside my dance bag. Digging through it, I grab my cell and look at the screen that reads: MOM CALLING.
Ugh!
I decline the call and let it go to voicemail then toss it back into my bag. That woman is the last person I want to talk to right now. Who am I kidding? She is the last person I want to talk to most of the time.

I haven't spoken with either one of my parents in over a month. Thanksgiving is a week away, and I'm certain that's why she's calling me. I'm dreading having to go home and spend time with them. For now, I'll just avoid her, because with the mood I'm in, there will be no way to avoid a fight with her.

Pulling up to my house, I see Kimber's car and Seth's jeep parked out front. I was hoping she wouldn't be here. I really just want to be alone right now instead of having another awkward and tense interaction with the girl who used to be my best friend—who I wish still was.

When I walk through the door, the house is quiet, and I assume they are in Kimber's room. I walk back to my room and begin powdering my pointes. I hang them up in my closet to air-dry before hopping into the shower.

As I am rinsing the last of the shampoo out of my hair, I hear the sounds that are becoming all too familiar from Kimber's room. "Are you kidding me?" I mumble in frustration. All I want is some peace and quiet to ease the stress I'm feeling.

Shutting off the water, I step out of the shower and quickly dry myself off. I throw on some underwear and a white tank top then walk into my closet to grab my black velour sport pants and matching zip-up hoodie. Standing in front of my mirror at my dresser, I shake out as much water as I can from my hair before throwing it up into a messy, loose bun on top of my head. I quickly apply some powder and swipe on my lip-gloss before sliding into my Uggs.

Hearing Kimber and Seth is making my skin crawl at this point, so I throw my sleeping pills in my purse, grab my keys, and get the hell out. I figure I can just spend the evening at Jase's apartment. I really need a little space to clear my head and relax.

When I arrive at Jase's and let myself in, I'm shocked to see Ryan sitting on his couch. I stop in my tracks and stare, unsure of what to say.
What is he doing here?

"Hey, is everything all right?" I hear Jase ask from the kitchen.

I turn my head away from Ryan and focus on Jase. Taking a few steps further into the apartment, I respond, "Umm, yeah...I mean no." I'm stumbling over my words like an idiot, but I am so caught off guard that Ryan is here. And then realizing that it wasn't but a few minutes ago I was in the shower and here I stand with my wet hair that's tied up in a hair tie is making my head swirl.

Jase walks around the bar with a couple bottles of beer and heads over to the couch to hand one to Ryan. "What's that mean?" he asks.