The Dead Boyfriend (6 page)

I had to get in there. I had to make him face me.

I was a few feet from the doorman's podium when a dark figure ran out from the side of the club. At first, I thought it was a moving shadow. It took a few seconds to realize it was someone dressed all in black.

Deena Fear.

I nearly ran right into her. She caught me with both hands before we collided. I was panting, wheezing loudly, enraged.

“Deena—what are you doing here?” I choked out, the words rasping against my dry throat.

“He betrayed us!” she cried. “Caitlyn—he betrayed us!”

 

12.

I gaped at her. The red-and-blue lights reflected in her glasses made her eyes look on fire.

“He betrayed us!” she screamed again, gripping my arms tightly.

“Go away!” I cried. Blade was inside the club with the blonde girl. I didn't have time for Deena Fear. I had to keep my anger burning. Or else I'd never be able to confront him.

“Get off me!” I swung my body hard and tugged free of her grip. Then I lowered my shoulder and shoved her out of my way, shoved her so hard she toppled backward over the gravel. Her glasses flew off her face and landed on the ground.

I spun away, lowered my head, and ran past the doorman. I heard him shout: “Hey—stop!” And then he uttered a string of curses as I pulled the door open and rushed inside.

Into the flashing lights and throbbing beats, deafening, almost painful. I could see the silhouettes of dancers in the middle of the floor. Couples huddled around the sides. A crowd at the brightly lit bar against the far wall.

I took a deep shuddering breath. Then another. My eyes gazed from one wall to the other, squinting to see faces, to see Blade. The pounding beats matched my heartbeats. I stood there, gasping in the thick, humid air, inhaling the tangy aroma of alcohol and sweat.

I was so angry, so hurt, so devastated, the whole scene became a crazy blur to me. The lights pulsed with the beats of the music, pulsed with my heartbeats, until … until I was not myself. I was out of myself. Out of my head.

Where is he? Where?

And then my eyes stopped at the white lights of the bar. And I saw him. I saw Blade at the bar. The blonde girl was beside him. He was leaning over a tall barstool, talking to a female bartender.

I didn't hesitate. I lowered my shoulder and bolted across the dance floor like a running back. Couples dodged out of my way. I heard angry shouts:

“Look out!”

“Hey—what's your problem?”

My problem was Blade.

I let out a furious screech as I stepped up behind him. I grabbed his shoulders and spun him around.

His eyes opened wide in surprise. “Caitlyn?”

The words spilled from my throat. “What are you doing here?”

He regained his composure quickly. “Getting two beers,” he said. He gave a casual shrug.

“Who
is
she?” the blonde girl asked.

“She's nobody, Vanessa,” Blade said. “A friend. From school.”

I felt as if I'd been cut in half, sliced right down the middle.

I stood there trembling with my mouth open.

I know I overreacted. I know I went ballistic. Totally lost it. But that's the way I am. That's me, and there's nothing I can do about it.

I am 90 percent emotion. And when Blade said those words to the girl, something inside me snapped.

“But … but…” I sputtered. “But we
love
each other!” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them.

Blade's face went entirely blank. His eyes appeared to freeze over. “In your dreams, maybe.”

And there I stood, my world collapsing in a sea of flashing lights and dancing couples and pounding music.

Suddenly, Vanessa, the blonde-haired girl, moved toward me. She put a hand gently on my shoulder. “Are you okay? You're trembling. Can I get you a drink or something?”

Her dark blue eyes peered into mine. She was genuinely worried about me.

I stared back at her, unable to answer. Finally, I spun away and took off. I ran back through the dance floor, pushing my way through the dancers, startled cries all around me.

I pulled open the door and burst back into the cool darkness. The voices and music were a roar behind me. My eyes still pulsed from the crazy lights.

The doorman turned from his podium as I ran past him. “Hey, you—stop! Come here!” he bellowed angrily.

Again, I ignored him, my shoes slipping and sliding on the gravel as I turned toward my car. No sign of Deena Fear. I had a fleeting thought that she'd be there by the door waiting for me, waiting to grab me and insist that Blade had betrayed her, too.

Which one of us is crazy?

I knew the answer. I was the crazy one for caring too much. Everything I did in that club was crazy. So crazy that even the girl with Blade, a total stranger, was worried about me.

But I didn't care. Blade was so important to me. I trusted him. I believed in him. I loved him. And now … I didn't care. I didn't care. I didn't care.

He acted as if I was nothing. “She's nobody.” That's what he told that girl Vanessa. “She's nobody.”

And he was right. Now I was nobody. I thought I had something great, something wonderful to get through life. But now I was nobody.

I climbed into the car. Slammed the door. Started it up and roared out of the parking lot, sending up a tidal wave of gravel behind me.

Where was I going? I didn't know. I swung the car out of the parking lot without looking. To my left, a small van screeched to a halt. Close call. I didn't care.

I slammed my foot down on the gas pedal. The car lurched forward. The pull of speed felt good to me. I spun around the curves of River Road, sliding from one lane to the other.

I made the car squeal and scrape. The river flowed beside me. All I had to do was swing the wheel to the left, and I'd be over the side and into the water. The cold, fresh water. Was it a good night for a swim?

No. I slid the wheel to the right and followed the dark road. Was that a squirrel I almost hit? No. Maybe a rabbit. Maybe a raccoon.

I was making the big curve onto Parkview, doing at least eighty, when the oncoming headlights filled my windshield. I blinked in the blinding lights. I cursed them for having their brights on.

And too late, I realized I was in the wrong lane. I was in the left lane. Too late. Too late to swing the car. Too late to avoid them. I heard the roar of a horn, like a siren, as the lights grew even brighter, washed over me, blinded me.

I'm driving right into them. Can't stop.

 

13.

Sudden darkness. The long wail of the car horn ringing in my ears, bleating like an enraged animal. The horn finally stopped as the other car swerved into the right lane and roared past me.

Missed. The car missed. I forced myself to breathe. Silence now. The twin circles of bright white headlights lingered in my eyes.

Breathe, Caitlyn. Breathe.

Chill after chill ran down my back. A close call. I almost died. I didn't really want to die. I was too angry to die.

I jerked the wheel and pulled the car to the curb. I hit the brake too hard, and the car lurched forward before it stopped, throwing me against the wheel, then slamming me back.

I cut off the engine. Then I sat there with my hands in my lap, staring out into the darkness, forcing my breathing to return to normal.

Caitlyn, you're not handling this well. Caitlyn, get a grip.

Where was I?

I squinted across a narrow lawn to a square brick house with a single light on over the front stoop. A small one-car garage at the top of the driveway had its door open.

It took me a few seconds to realize I had parked in front of Blade's house. I stared at the yellow light over the stoop until the house blurred behind it.

I knew I didn't deliberately drive here. At least, I didn't
know
I was going to park in front of his house. “I should go home,” I murmured out loud.

I reached for the button to start the engine. But then I lowered my hand to my lap. I needed to talk to him. No. I didn't want to see him. I didn't want to sit here for hours, till the middle of the night, waiting for him to return from his date. And then rush him, run at him, confront him crying and screaming.

No. I didn't want that.

So … why couldn't I start the car? Why couldn't I move? Why was I sitting here, every muscle in my body tense, my stomach rumbling and growling, wave after wave of nausea making me hold my breath and clench my jaw?

I don't know how much time passed. I glanced at the car clock when the red Mustang finally turned into the driveway. It was nearly one o'clock.

I watched the car stop in front of the garage. I watched the red taillights die. I watched the driver's door swing open. Now it all seemed to be in slow motion, like some kind of slowed-down dream.

Blade stretched his arms over his head. Then he closed the car door quietly. Quietly so he wouldn't wake his parents, I guessed.

I sat and watched, hands clasped tightly in my lap. When he started loping toward the kitchen door, I finally moved. I moved fast.

I shoved open the car door, grabbed my bag, and leaped out. I didn't bother to close it. I ran around the trunk to the driveway and began to run, gripping my bag in one hand, waving my other hand above me head. “Blade! Blade!” I shouted his name in a shrill voice I didn't recognize.

It was a warm April night, almost balmy, but the air felt cool against my burning cheeks. “Blade! Stop! Blade!”

Why did I drag my bag with me? I can't answer that question. Was I thinking clearly? Not at all.

Blade turned and I saw the surprise on his face. I kept waving my hand above my head as I ran, some kind of desperate signal.

I stopped a few feet in front of him, breathing hard, my chest heaving up and down.

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Caitlyn? What are you doing here?” No warmth in his voice. His eyes cold. Wary.

“I-I-I” I stammered. I searched for something good in his face, just a tiny sign that he was glad to see me. No. Not even that. A sign that he
liked
me? No.

“It's late,” he said, tugging the sleeves of his hoodie.

“I … I … Didn't you say you loved me?” I blurted out, my voice trembling as if underwater.

He blinked. He lowered his gaze to the ground. “We had fun,” he murmured.

“Fun?” I cried. “Fun? You said you loved me. You know you did.”

He raised his eyes. His mouth formed a sneer. “You didn't really think I was serious—did you?”

“Huh?” My mouth dropped open. I kept my eyes locked on him. I was straining to see the Blade I knew, the Blade I loved.

“We had fun, that's all,” he said. He yawned.

I think it was the yawn that set me off. The loud, open-mouthed yawn put me over the edge.

I felt something in my brain snap. At that moment, at that second, something inside me cracked apart. I guess it was my whole life.

I really can't describe it. Something in my brain just exploded.

I saw the surprise on Blade's face. Or was it fear?

And then everything went crazy.

 

14.

“Fun?” I screamed. “Fun?”

He glanced to a window at the side of the house. His parents' room? Was he afraid I might wake his parents? Is that all he cared about?

“You
creep
!” I cried. I had the handle of my bag gripped tightly in my right hand. I raised my arm and swung the bag at him, swung it with all my strength.

“Hey!” Blade uttered a startled cry and stepped back. He lowered his shoulder, and the bag swung over his head.

“Hey, stop, Caitlyn. Stop it.”

“Fun?” I shrieked. “Fun?”

I swung the heavy bag again. This time it glanced off his shoulder.

“Whoa.” His expression turned angry. “I'm warning you,” he murmured. “Stay back. Stop it.”

My next swing caught him on the chest. I couldn't stop myself. I swung again, narrowly missing his head. I swung the bag again. Doubled him over with a blow to the stomach.

“Enough!” he groaned. He made a grab for the bag. Caught it from the bottom.

“Noooo!” I struggled to pull it away from him.

“Caitlyn—chill! Stop! Calm down! Can we talk?” He gripped the bottom of my bag and jerked his hands hard.

“Give it back!” I screamed. “Give it!”

The handle snapped out of my hand. I stumbled back. Blade held onto the bottom as we both watched all the contents spill onto the ground.

“You creep! You creep!” I was shrieking without even hearing myself.

Blade tossed the bag across the driveway. He glared furiously at me. “You crazy idiot. Are you going to leave?”

In the dim light from the stoop, I saw the knife. It lay on top of a scarf I had stuffed into the bag. With a shuddering moan, I dove for it. I gripped the handle tightly and raised it in front of me.

“Hey—what's that?” Blade demanded, gazing from the knife to me.

My thumb fumbled for the button, and I released the blade. It snapped out instantly and I held it in front of me so Blade could see it clearly.

“Come on, Caitlyn. Put that down,” he said, holding his arms out at his sides, as if preparing to defend himself.

“Fun? We had
fun
?” I cried.

No way
he could defend himself. I lunged forward and poked the sharp tip of the blade into the front of his hoodie.

He gasped and stumbled back. “Put it away. Are you crazy? Put it away!”

I jabbed at him, just enough to make him feel it. I poked him in the chest. Then I lowered the blade and poked his stomach.

“You're crazy! You're crazy! Stop. Put it down. Let's talk.”

His eyes were wide. I could see he was in a panic. He kept his arms lowered, tensed, ready to fight back. He retreated a step, then another—and backed into his car.