Hunter (Broken Bad Boys 1): A New Adult Bad Boy Romance (8 page)

Lola starts measuring out the different ingredients. I trust her implicitly. I know that she won’t differ from what I would normally make and eat. So there is no harm in letting her make my breakfast for me. “You want to eat it there, or here?” Lola turns around, a bowl in her hands.

“There.” I prefer eating at the table. I slowly get up, and grab the arm of the couch. Whoa. Lightheaded.

Lola looks at me as I make my way over to the table. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” I sit down in the chair and look at the bowl and the banana in front of me. Then I put the spoon into the bowl and slowly start to eat. At the first mouthful, I already know that this isn’t going to be an easy day. Not by far.

Great…

I struggle through every bite, eating the breakfast even though I don’t want to. But I know that I can’t not eat breakfast, not just for my body, but also for my sanity.

“Lizzy…” Lola’s voice is careful. “Is everything okay? You seem… off.”

“I don’t really feel like starting this week.” Or today… But I guess I can’t get around it now.

“I know what that feels like.” She runs her hand over my back as she takes the bowl and the banana peel. “But it’s happening anyway.”

“Yeah.” I stand up. “I guess that I should grab my things then? See you at the car?”

Lola shows me a sad smile. “No car today, Dad had to borrow it. We’re going by bus.”

So that is why she wanted me to come along, she didn’t want to be alone in the bus. “Fine, fine.” It’s not that I don’t normally go by bus anyway. I walk around the place, grabbing things for class and other items I need to take with me. All the while, my stomach acts up and my energy drains instead of getting better. But I need to go, I can’t keep skipping classes. “Okay, I’m ready to go.”

We make our way to the bus stop, just a block from our house. Lola isn’t one to just start chattering and I’m not really in a talkative mood today either. So we walk along in silence. It doesn’t take long for the bus to show up and we get on. Lola sits down in a seat right next to the door and I sit down next to her. It’s the spot I always try to take, easy to get off the bus.

“So… can you at least give me a hint of what you’re working on?” Lola looks at me and I smile.

I’ve been working on a couple of things, mostly just paintings but also a couple of drawings, choosing to work on whatever inspires me at that moment. “Art.” I grin.

Lola rolls her eyes as she smiles. “Well, I assumed as much. I didn’t think you were working on boys in there.” Her voice is light, and I’m sure she meant it as a joke, but it immediately makes my mind go places it shouldn’t be going. Like Hunter.

The bus makes a turn and I tense, my whole body suddenly really aware of itself. I swallow hard, trying to keep my breath steady, but my heart starts racing. This is bad. I break out in a cold sweat and grab hold of my bag tightly. It’s only a few more streets until the university. Just a few more.

“Lizzy.” Lola reaches out and touches my face. “You’re looking very gray. Can you make it until the university?”

I nod. I have to, I don’t want to get off early, but the cold sweats are not going down and I don’t know if I can make it that far.

After another turn, when my stomach really makes itself known, I grab for the stop button. I need to get off
now
.

Lola grabs my hand, holding on tight, giving me her strength, giving me the strength to go on a little longer.

As soon as I see the bus stop I stand up, stepping closer to the door so I can get off as soon as possible.

The bus slows down and comes to a stop. The doors open, and I step out, but somewhere between the bus and the street, my vision goes dark, first at the edges and then fully.

My body collides with the rough concrete floor as I faint right in the street.

I
sit down
on one of the chairs in the workshop’s main space, a drawing pad in my hand, a pencil playing between my fingers. It’s quiet, which is what I like about coming here on a Monday morning. My thoughts have been going back to last week the whole time I’ve been here. The dress I designed for Lizzy, the dress that is now hiding in the back of my closet. I couldn’t get rid of it—she looked great in it. So much more alive. I let out a sigh. I’m hoping that the weekend will have helped Lizzy. She looked a little rough last Friday, but I guess I probably didn’t look much better.

I know that I was overstepping a boundary, but this not seeing or talking to each other isn’t helping either, this isn’t a solution. When she comes here, we’ll have to talk. I can’t do this for another week. I like working together with her, I like being friends with her, and if that means that we need to set rules, I guess that can’t be helped.

The door opens and I hear Tamara come in, her block heels making a distinctive sound on the tiles in the hallway. Then she opens the door, looking around. When her eyes fall on me, she frowns before she fakes a smile. “Hunter.” Her voice is forced light.

“Morning.” I look at her, but she turns away, walking towards her little office. “Have you seen Lizzy yet? She’s normally in by now.” At least, she has been for the last couple of weeks. I hope I didn’t make her stay away… She seems to like the quiet Monday mornings the best too.

Tamara stills, which makes me look at her more carefully. “Um…” She turns to me. “Yeah, I saw her.”

“And?” Something is up.

“She, um, fainted as she got off the bus. I saw it happen. She’s fine otherwise, but I just drove her home.” Tamara doesn’t look at me, instead standing with her back to me.

She
what
? Lizzy fainted and that didn’t seem important? Or maybe it did, and that was why Tamara made a beeline for her office. “Did she say anything? Like, why it happened?”

“Not really. It just happens with her sometimes. Her being ill and all.” Tamara tries to shrug it off. But I know that it’s an act, and she knows I don’t believe her. “If she hasn’t talked to you about it, I’m not saying anything. You know that would be breaking my promise to her. The same promise I made to you.”

I nod, but my heart is racing. Lizzy is really sick. Of course, that was obvious from the start, but I guess I underestimated how much it actually influenced her. She’s been having those dizzy spells more often in the last week, even I could see that. And I never said anything. What if I could have prevented this if I had just talked to her, instead of being a smartass last week and messing everything up?

I stand up and put the pad and the pencils down. I can’t just stay here, I need to see her. Just knowing that she isn’t feeling well makes my heart ache. Dammit.

“Hunter.” Tamara is now close.

“I’m going to see her.” I grab my jacket and my bag.

“I’m not sure…” Tamara reaches out to stop me. “I don’t know if that is a good idea.”

“I need to make sure she’s okay.” That she isn’t alone.

“Her sister is with her, she’ll be fine. After last week, I’m not sure this would be the best idea.”

“I do think it’s a good idea.” The best idea I’ve had in a week. We can’t keep avoiding each other, and I know that, at least partially, this is my fault. I stalk out of the workshop, grabbing my bike that I parked right outside the door and push it closer to the road before I get on.

I kick off and speed as fast as is legally allowed down the street. I need to do this. There is no way around it.

It’s only then that I realize I’ve got no idea of her actual address. We’ve always met up on campus, and even when we ran into each other in the forest, I only saw it from the back. So, I guess I’ll need to drive around the edge of the neighborhood until I find the path that leads to her home.

I focus on the road. I can’t get into trouble now, not when I need to speak to Lizzy, not when I need to make sure that she’s okay.

After a couple of minutes I reach the edge of her neighborhood and I take the path that leads around the back, between the neighborhood and the forest. I slow down—this isn’t a road that’s meant for motorbikes. It’s mostly bicycles and a few cars that drive here. But most of all, I know that a lot of people walk their dogs around here, so it isn’t safe to speed. I slow down as I reach the path where Lizzy and I came out of the woods, where I can get into the neighborhood.

I kill the engine and get off, taking off the helmet. It’s quiet around here, just the sounds of the wind, the birds and a few dogs and kids. But other than that… It’s almost serene in comparison to my studio in the city. I start pushing the bike between the houses. It’s slow going—the bike is heavy—but I keep at it. I’m not leaving it out here, so I’ll need to take it with me.

After a couple of corners I see the house and the garage where Lizzy lives. In comparison to the house, the garage is only tiny. But I guess that doesn’t matter. She has a place of her own, a place where she can be alone and not surrounded by people. I get that need. I totally get it.

I park the bike and look around, then lock the bike and my helmet to it. It looks like it will stay dry and I don’t think it can do much harm out here. I make my way over to the door, knocking on it, only to find it open.

“I’m upstairs.” Lizzy’s voice weakly floats down the stairs.

I look around the place—it’s definitely a garage, or used to be anyway. The place is now separated into a living and a dining space, with a set of stairs going up to what I assume is her bedroom.

I put my bag down and shrug off my jacket. No use dragging those up the stairs. I slowly make my way up the stairs. There is a door, it’s slightly ajar. On the white surface of the door are a few multicolored letters spelling out
Lizzy
. I knock on the door. “Lizzy, it’s me.”

Lizzy gasps. There are some sounds, and then her voice. “Come on in.”

I open the door to a small bedroom. Lizzy’s bed is on one side and there is a little walking space around the edges of it, but not much. The whole room is painted a light lilac, which makes me smile despite myself. I never expected lilac in Lizzy’s room.

“Why are you here?” Lizzy doesn’t sound as amused. She sounds confused, and annoyed.

I look at her. She’s so pale, she looks so frail. “I heard you weren’t feeling well, so I came to see how you were.”
I wanted to make sure that I wasn’t the cause of this.

She just looks at me and I carefully make my way around the bed to a chair in the corner of the room, not too far away but also not right next to the door.

“You fainted on your way to class?” I glance at her. I don’t want to hurt her, but I also want to know she’s okay.

She nods, still that confused look on her face.

“Are you okay?”

She still doesn’t say anything, just nods. I’m imposing on her. She wants me out of here. But at the same time, the way she glances at me, it’s not all that she wants. And I’m obviously getting on her nerves.

“Is it because of… you know…” I move my hands. I don’t really know what I want to say.
Because of me? Because I stressed you out? Because I said something wrong?

I can see the exact moment that her confusion turns to anger, the way her eyes narrow, the way that her jaw sets. “Because of what?” She lets out an impatient huff. “Say it.”

I realize that we’re not talking about the same thing. My wanting to know is a different need than her need for me to confront her. My need is selfish. I was only thinking of myself, not of her. Not of her pain, the pain that I’ve seen hiding in her eyes so often since I got to know her. “Because of your thinness.” I can’t look at her. This is definitely overstepping a boundary, but everything makes sense now. The way she won’t eat when people look at her, the way she dresses, her low blood pressure, the dizzy spells. The way Tamara told me that Lizzy was ill, like she assumed that I already knew what was going on.

“Say it.” Lizzy’s voice breaks on the last word.

“Your anorexia.” I can barely say the words—her pain, the hurt that she carries under all her bravado, the bad things that she tries to hide but that I can’t help but want to reach out to. I finally look up at her and my heart breaks all over again. The look she gives me,
that
pain, that pain is different. She expects me to run, she expects me to dump her right here. That is a look that comes from years of living with something that scares people. I know that fear so well.

“Go away.” Her voice is quiet now, all the anger lost, just surrender left. She’s resigned herself to the idea that everyone who knows about her illness will leave, but I’m not giving up that easily.

I can’t leave her, not now. A real friend doesn’t just go away when someone needs them. “Did you get hurt?”

“No.” Her voice betrays her. She answered too fast. It’s not easy to lie like this.

“Where?” When Joey was not at his worst yet, I saw him faint a couple of times, and Lizzy doesn’t look like someone who will just give up when she feels faint.

“I said no.” She glares at me, frustrated that I won’t believe her lie.

“I know you’re lying.” My eyes fall on her discarded shoes at the end of the bed, a scrape down the side that’s still fresh.

“Nothing happened. I fainted. End of.” She is nearing the end of her patience with me.

“Did you hit your head? Your hip? Your shoulder?” She moves uncomfortably under the blanket. “Did you slide? Scrape your hands?” I saw it happen with Joey once, the scariest thing in the world—seeing him slide as he tried to stay conscious, that last moment of fighting, that last moment of protecting himself.

“Shut up. Why do you even care?” She glares at me with such intensity, such a fighting spirit. I’ve hit a nerve.

Why wouldn’t I care? Does she think nothing of herself? Is there no reason for a friend to care for her when she’s not feeling well? “Because you’re a friend. Of course I care.”

Her eyes widen, but then her mouth sets in a sneer. “And how long before—”

The door downstairs opens and a voice interrupts her. “Lizzy, I got you something to eat.”

I recognize that voice, I would recognize it anywhere. But it has been years since I last heard it.

Footsteps come up the stairs and Lizzy looks between me and the door, slightly panicked. If this person is bringing food over, I’m not surprised that she wouldn’t want me to be here, though she seems to have gotten better at eating around me.

The door opens and a curvy girl steps in,. She wears tight jeans and a tight shirt, showing off her body. But it’s only when her eyes meet mine that my suspicion is confirmed.

Lola.

She’s the reason that I knew the signs of Lizzy’s illness. She’s the reason I could connect the dots of what was going on. And there is no one with eyes like hers, no one apart from Lizzy…

“H…” Lola frowns and I’m once again reminded of Lizzy. How did I never connect the two? I knew I recognized the look Lizzy gave me, but I could never place it. How did I totally miss this? How could I forget?

“Lola.” Seeing her after four years is strange. So many things have happened since graduation. We went to the same high school, we were really good friends, but after graduation we lost contact, which isn’t that odd. So many things happened, it wasn’t an easy time for us.

Lola’s eyes won’t leave mine. Just seeing her, the look she is giving me—we know. That connection we had years ago, it’s still there.

“You two know each other?” Lizzy speaks up.

Lola looks away, instead focusing on her sister, on her twin. How did I not connect the dots? I even knew what Lola’s sister was called, so how did I not see it? “Yeah. We went to high school together.”

“Ah, cool.” Lizzy smiles, but there is something there, something I can’t place. But it doesn’t seem to be happy.

As Lola puts the tray on the table next to Lizzy’s bed, I stand up. “I should be going. I’ll see you in class or at the workshop, Lizzy. It’s nice to see you’re well, Lola.” I walk out before either of them answers. I don’t need Lizzy to say it to know that she doesn’t want me there. And Lola…

I step out of the garage and as I’m near my bike, I lean back against the wall. I’m not sure if I’m ready yet to face it. Face the world. How could I have been this stupid? Her eyes, her name, her illness… I should have known…

“H…” Lola is right next to me.

I turn to her. Her azure eyes are dark, uncertain. “Hey.”

She opens her arms and I take her in an embrace. There may have been years of not talking, but the friendship we had won’t just go away. She holds me tightly and I can feel the stress leave her. “Thank you for checking up on her,” Lola murmurs against my chest before she lets me go. “So, you’re the guy she keeps talking about.”

“Me?” I can’t help but smile. Lizzy was talking about me? I didn’t know that. It makes a little piece in my chest flutter, even though it shouldn’t.

“Yeah, you, you oaf.” Lola pushes at me, smiling. “Lizzy refused to give me a name, just that she met a guy who was also into art. And that she was spending quite a lot of time with him.” Lola lets out a breath. “You look good.” She eyes me up and down. “Finally filled out, I see.”

“Worked hard. You also look good.” Lola has always been curvy, something that used to make her insecure, but it seems that she totally embraces it now.

“Thanks.” She averts her eyes. “I’m sorry. About not staying in touch. About Joey. About Tessa.”

I swallow hard. I could have used a friend, but I also know that it has never been easy for Lola either. We both nearly didn’t graduate, not because we didn’t have the grades, but because we just couldn’t deal any more. We used to be such a tight group—me, Tessa, Lola and Blaze. And Lola and I had a tight friendship too, both with a sibling at home who was sick. A loved one we had to leave behind, so much time lost. I’ve seen her fight through the days as Lizzy had to be taken to a hospital or a clinic, over and over again. I saw her fight for both of them, fight to not lose her mind. And then… at the end… That was the worst. I reach out to her and she slides her hand in mine. “I’m sorry too. It must have been hell for you too.” I run my thumb over her hand. “Have you ever spoken to Blaze again?”