Lovely (38 page)

Monday rolls around and the sun spills into my room, startling me awake. I rub the heel of my palm against my chest, hoping to somehow soothe the stabbing pain that resides there. When I glance at the alarm clock, it’s only 5:00. I grab my cell phone off the side table to see if I have any voicemails or texts from Cara in response to the thirty that I sent over the weekend. There’s nothing.
Shit
. It’s too early to call, so I lay back down and think about her. I have to figure out a way to make her understand there’s nothing going on with Shelby. How could she even think that I’d want to be with someone else? I just don’t get it. Letting out a frustrated sigh, I roll over and close my eyes to block out the light sneaking through the window and figure out a way to get back the light I lost.

I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn over to find Mom hovering over me. “Ash, it’s nearly 7:45, don’t you have class?”

Rubbing my tired eyes, I force myself to sit up and face another day without Cara, the hole in my heart turning into a fucking cavern. Mom sits on the edge of the bed quietly. If she’s waiting for me to say something, forget it. I don’t feel like talking.

“What’s the matter Ash?” she asks with those
Mom always knows when something’s wrong
eyes.

My jaw clenches and I put my hands behind my head and cross my legs. “It’s nothing, Mom. I really don’t want to talk about it.”

She smiles. “Which is it, honey? Is it nothing? Or, is it something, but you just don’t want to talk about it?”

I shake my head and smile. That’s Mom. She has a psychic connection straight to my brain. “Yes, it is something,” I admit, “but I don’t want to talk about it.”

She lays her hand on my foot. “Okay, sweetie, but if you do, I’m here. Now hurry up and get ready. There are scrambled eggs and pancakes if you’re hungry.”

Just hearing the word pancakes makes me think of Cara. Shit, everything makes me think of Cara.

“Hey, Ash,” Delilah and Colt greet me as I walk in the kitchen.

“You’re running kind of late aren’t you, Ash?” Delilah says with a mischievous grin. “I mean, don’t you have to get to the
library
?”

I turn away and grab a glass from the cabinet, open the fridge, and pull out the orange juice. I don’t say anything.

“Ash, you okay?” she asks, her voice full of concern. “Is Cara alright?”

It takes a minute for me to respond and that’s not good enough for Delilah.

She stops eating and glowers at me. “Please tell me you didn’t do anything to her or I’ll personally kick your ass!”

Tilting my head to the side, I stare back. “No, baby girl, I didn’t do anything to Cara. We just had a bit of a misunderstanding.”

Mom shifts way from the counter and gives me an empathetic smile.

Here come the questions
.

“What kind of a misunderstanding?” Delilah asks with wide eyes, dropping her fork and giving me her full attention.

Another exasperated sigh leaks out from my chest. “I don’t want to talk about it, Delilah, okay? Just leave it alone.”

She throws her hands up in the air. “Fine. I’ll ask Cara myself.” She takes her cell phone out of her purse and I grab her arm as she walks away, my eyes pleading with hers.

“Delilah, please don’t do that,” I implore.

She inspects my bruised hand, her expression softening as she wraps her arms around me. “Okay Ash, I won’t.”

I feel like I’m driving a hundred miles per hour to get to school … to get to Cara. Delilah doesn’t say anything on the ride over, she just smacks her gum and bobs her head to the music. I’m not in the mood for a chat anyway and she knows it.

By the time we get to campus, my nerves are frayed. I don’t know whether Cara will even talk to me, but I have to try and make her understand. I lean over and place a gentle kiss to Delilah’s forehead. “Bye, baby girl. I’ll see you later.”

She gives me a supportive nudge. “I hope whatever’s going on with Cara is something you can work out, Ash. She’s pretty special.”

Yeah, I know
.

I head off in the direction of the library and feel my heartbeat quicken with every step. I burst through the double doors and nearly stumble over my own feet. When I look over at the counter, Cara’s there, but she looks different. Oh God, she has her glasses back on. A feeling of dread comes over me.
This is my fault. She’s retreating and it’s all my fault
.

She peers over her books and glances toward the door but quickly looks back down when she sees that it’s me … the one person who broke her heart.

I take a deep breath.
I can do this
. I walk over to the counter until I’m standing in front of her. She doesn’t look up and I find myself staring into the black frames of her glasses. “Cara,” I say adamantly, “we need to talk.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you, Ash,” she replies, her voice so devoid of emotion that it completely tears at my heartstrings.

My voice deepens and takes on a desperate tone. “Cara, look at me.”

She lifts her head, but her eyes are empty and lifeless. “What do you want, Ash?”

I reach out to place my hand on hers but she snaps it away instantly. “I want
you
, Cara. I
need
you.”

She adjusts her glasses before she speaks. “You’ve got a funny way of showing it. I’m gone for not even a day and you can’t wait to get your hands on your ex-girlfriend.”

Anger boils up inside of me and it sneaks out as my voice raises. “Cara, I don’t want Shelby. I told you she came over to talk to me and when I came back up she was sitting there … well … you know how she was sitting there.”

She sucks in a breath and grips her hands on the edge of the counter. “I don’t want to hear it. Just go, Ash.”

My jaw works itself back and forth and I shake my head, rubbing my hands on the scratchy material of my jeans. “Cara. I choose
you
. From the moment my eyes settled on yours that first day, the decision was made for me,” I say, my voice cracking, heavily braided with emotion. I look up into her eyes, a tear crawling roughly down my cheek. “Don’t you see, Cara? I choose
you
.”

She stares at me but I can tell she no longer sees me. “I don’t want you, Ash. I don’t choose
you
.”

She’s sucks every last bit of air out of my lungs with her words. My chest feels heavy and my breathing is labored. This must be what it feels like to have a heart attack. I turn for the exit, feeling completely defeated, until her voice stops me in my tracks.

“Ash, wait.”

My whole body freezes and a ray of hope flutters in my chest.

“Listen, maybe in time, we can be friends.”

I spin around and look her dead in the face, the tears pooling in my eyes, and I just don’t give a shit anymore because that’s how much she means to me. “Friends? I’m fucking in love with you, Cara! Every fiber of my being is fucking in love with you!” I touch my hand to my chest. “You’re in here, Cara. You’re so far ingrained in my heart and that shit just won’t go away. So ‘friends’? I think it’s a little late for that.”

Her eyes are cold, her look razor sharp as she stares through me, completely unaffected by my display of emotion. “That’s all I can offer now.”

And just like that, she rips the hope right out of my chest.

A week passes without any visits to the library. After texting and leaving Cara a ridiculous amount of messages eliciting no response, I gave up, and now I’m pretty fucking miserable. My heart aches with longing. I can still feel her lips on mine, smell her sweet breath, see her eyes shining when she smiles, but she’s gone.

There’s a soft knock at the door and Delilah pokes her head in. “Can I come in, Ash?”

I manage a small smile. “Sure, baby girl, come on in.”

Delilah comes over and plops herself next to me on the bed, leaning her head against my shoulder. “I hate seeing you like this.”

I angle my head so it’s sitting atop hers. “I don’t much like feeling this way.”

“Have you talked to Cara?”

I sigh into her hair. “She won’t talk to me, Delilah. She can’t trust me now and trust is big for her.”

Delilah sits up straight and grabs my arms, forcing me to look at her. “So that’s it, Ash? You’re giving up? When have you ever given up on anything? The Ash I know wouldn’t give up … not on something this important.”

I groan loudly. “I don’t know what to do.”

She lets out a tiny laugh. “Man, Ash, I thought you knew women. Well, scratch that. You know how to get in their pants.”

I suck my teeth and glare at her.

“Okay, sorry, not funny. But you can win her back. You have to woo her.”

I look at her, a puzzled expression lining my forehead. “Woo her?”

“Yes, woo her. Do little things for her that show her that you love her and that you’re not giving up.”

Her words make me think for a second. “Like what?”

She gets up from the bed. “I don’t know, Ash. You know her. Think about her …
really
think about her. Then get out there and win her back. Show her she’s worth fighting for.”

Delilah gives me a kiss on the cheek and closes the door. After she leaves, I think about her words. What does Cara like? Well, she likes poetry, but I suck at poetry. She also loves pancakes and I’m pretty good at making those. But she certainly won’t let me make her any pancakes right now unless I force feed them to her. Hmph. I guess I can try to write her a poem. Trudging over to my desk, I take out a notebook and a pencil from the top drawer, retreating back to my bed.

Twenty minutes later, my floor is filled with crumpled up paper basketballs and I’m still sitting with a blank page on my lap. Cara’s words from when we first talked about poetry come back to me. “Write what you feel.” What do I feel?

I close my eyes and breathe deeply, letting Cara’s essence wash over me. She’s inside me, surrounding me, caressing me with her spirit. When my eyes blink open and my pen hits the paper, it’s like magic—the words flow freely …

Cara,

When I first met you, you existed only outside of me. Now you exist inside of me. As sure as my heart beats, that’s how certain I am of my love for you. You’ve bewitched me with your eyes, with your smile, with your heart. You’ve shown me the path to love, and you’ve taken over my heart so completely that I not only love you, but I need you. Just like I need air to breathe. And I can’t breathe without you, Cara.

I love you.

—Ash

I exhale the breath I didn’t know I was holding. Putting the pad down on the bed, I lean back and clasp my hands behind my head, a proud smile turning up the corners of my mouth. I just wrote a poem and it’s pretty decent. I only hope Cara feels the same.

Now, the only question is … how do I get it to her? I look around my room until my eyes land on exactly what I need. My guitar. I’ll sing it to her. I may not be much of a poet, but maybe it’ll sound better as a song. And my voice is definitely something I’ve got going for me.

This has to be perfect, though. I have to figure out when and where. I reach into the pocket of my jeans, pull out the bracelet, and smile. Delilah’s right. I never give up on anything that I want … and I want Cara. I
love
Cara.