The Fading Trilogy: Fading, Freeing, Falling: Includes 2 BONUS short stories: Hoping and Finding Forever (102 page)

Call me when you get a chance.

I read the text from Jase while I’m working from home today. Our conversation a couple nights ago was a little awkward, so I’m curious as to why he wants me to call him. I don’t waste any time thinking too much about it when I tap his name and it begins to ring.

“Hey, what’s up?” he says when he answers.

“Not much. Just getting some work done. You?”

“Heading home from class,” he says before adding, “Look, I’m sorry if I came across short with you the other night. I wasn’t trying to make you feel like you couldn’t hang out with Candace. I just get a little protective of her at times.”

“No worries. I know the two of you are close, so I wouldn’t ever . . .” I trail off, not even sure of where I’m going with this statement, but he cuts the silence and says, “Yeah, I know. But, hey, if you wanna come over tonight, Candace and Mark will be here. We’re just gonna lay low and hang out.”

“Yeah, man. I’ve got some things to take care of, but I’ll stop by later.”

“See ya.”

“Later,” I say and then hang up.

I spend the day taking care of a few work things. I’m trying to lessen the time that I have to spend up at the bar, so I’ve been getting most of my work done from home. Michael has been putting in the hours, and I feel I’m at a point where the bar is running smoothly without me having to be around all too often.

It’s a little after eight when I head over to Jase’s apartment building. When I get there, Mark lets me in, and I look over to see Candace wrapped up in Jase’s arms on the couch. My head takes me to wishing it was my arms wrapped around her. I shut that thought down fast, but it lingers in the back of my mind. Truth is, I’ve never been that way with a girl in my whole life, so to see Jase have that with someone who’s only a friend makes me a little envious.

He looks up at me when I walk by and says, “Hey, there’s beer in the fridge. Help yourself.”

Giving him a nod, I head straight into the kitchen to grab one. When I turn around to get the bottle opener, Candace walks in, holding an empty wine glass.

“Could you hand me a bottle of water?” she asks, and I open the fridge to grab one.

Handing it to her, I take the wine glass out of her hand, and with a smirk, I say lightly, “I thought you never did anything fun.”

When I walk over to the sink to set her glass down, I hear her respond, “I never said that. I said I like to keep busy.”

I turn around to face her and lean back against the counter. She stands there in what looks to be a pair of Jase’s boxers and a UW t-shirt. Her hair is piled on top of her head again, and I don’t think she could look any more attractive than she does right now—relaxed.

“Did you have a better day today?” I ask, knowing that the last time I saw her something had clearly upset her.

“It was okay. How about you?”

“Hung around my place for the most part.”

“Candace,” Jase calls from the other room, “It’s back on.”

She doesn’t say anything else to me, she just turns to go sit next to Jase on the couch, pulling her legs up as he wraps his arm back around her. I sit on the other end of the couch while Mark is comfortable in a chair.

I turn to the TV to see some drunk jackass climbing his kitchen cabinet just to have the whole structure rip off the wall and fall of top of him, dishes and all. When I hear Candace laughing, I turn to her and ask, “What the hell are we watching?”

“‘Ridiculousness,’” she answers, keeping her eyes fixed on the TV.

Jase looks over her to me, and says, “For such a refined girl, she loves this show.”

“You’re the one who first told me about it,” she accuses him.

“Just ignore their banter,” Mark says to me. “They both love trash TV.”

I listen to the three of them go back and forth and their connection seems strong with one another. I know that Mark just recently started dating Jase, so to see them interact like this, like they’ve known each other for years, makes me realize just how alone I am. The deepest friendship I feel like I have, outside of my mom and Tori, is Max. But it’s nothing like these people have. So I sit here, drink my beer, and enjoy the company.

Before I call it a night, I catch Candace quietly sneaking off to go to bed in Jase’s room. My curiosity grows as to why she’s staying here, but I don’t ask. Mark tells me to meet him at his place in the morning to pack up for our hike as I head out.

After about three hours of hiking, we start making our way down Tolmie Peak. It’s been raining for the better part of the hike and the four of us are cold and drenched, and when I hear,
“Crap!” I look back to see that Candace has fallen in the mud.

Jase and Mark are further down the trail, so I go back and hold out my hands for her to grab on to, pulling her out of the mud.

“You’re a complete mess,” I tease.

“Yeah, I know,” she says, almost unfazed that she’s covered in mud.

She keeps her hold on my hand, and I like it, as we make our way down to the bottom. Once there, she lets go as we continue our trek back to the car. Jase and Mark are several steps in front of us, lost in their own conversation, and it’s not long before Candace starts talking. She seems more comfortable around me, but we did just spend most of the last three hours hiking without the company of Jase and Mark. They’ve been keeping their distance from us.

“So, how did you come about owning a bar?” she asks me.

“Just kind of fell into it. When I graduated college, the economy was starting to decline, and I couldn’t find a job. So, when I found out that the previous owner of that bar was about to shut the place down, I worked out a deal with him and was able to do a slow buyout.”

“You went to U-Dub?”

“Yeah, I graduated back in 2007.”

“So, that makes you . . .?” she pries.

Laughing at her, I answer, “Twenty-eight.”

“What did you study?” she continues, and I like that. For once, I’m not having to struggle to get her to talk.

“Business Finance. So, it wasn’t too far out of reach that I would come to own my own business.”

“You enjoy it?”

“I do. When I did the buyout, I changed the whole place out and created a new vibe for it. It wasn’t before long that the business was taking off quicker than I expected. At this point, the staff pretty much runs the place, and I have a trustworthy manager, so my schedule is very flexible.”

“Sounds like the perfect job.”

“You ever been there?” I question.

“No. I don’t really ever go out.” She smiles and adds, “I’m sort of a workaholic. Jase is always nagging me about that.”

“Well, you should stop by sometime.”

“Yeah. Maybe,” she says, but I know she doesn’t mean it.

Laughing, I joke, “You’re full of shit, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. Maybe,” she repeats as she laughs with me. Her smile is perfect and that shallow dimple makes it hard to not lean over and kiss her, but this girl has walls—unbreakable ones—that I’m determined to start chipping away at.

Getting back to Mark’s house, we each take our time showering and cleaning up.

Mark and I tune in to the Washington vs. Colorado football game. Mark throws a couple of logs onto the fire, and when I pull out my cell to order some pizzas, I see Candace walking through the room and straight into the kitchen. I’m distracted when the line is answered and I’m putting in the order.

“What kind of pizza do you want, Candace?” I holler into the kitchen.

“I don’t care. I’ll eat anything at this point,” she tells me as I order the pizza.

She walks back into the room carrying a bottle of wine to share with Mark. Those two have proven to be the wine drinkers of the group while Jase and I watch the game and toss back a couple beers, but apparently I haven’t kept that good a count ‘cause Jase has definitely had more than a couple when he starts screaming at the penalty that was just called.

We all laugh at him when he runs into the kitchen to answer Candace’s phone that starts to go off.

He walks back in, total mood shift, mouthing ‘I’m sorry’ as he hands Candace the phone.

“Who is it?” she asks quietly.

“Your mother.”

She looks irritated when she heads outside to the patio to take the call.

“What’s that all about?” I ask Jase.

“Her parents are assholes to her,” he blurts out and Mark butts in, almost scolding when he calls his name, “Jase.”

He looks to Mark and says, “What? They are. They treat her like shit and she doesn’t deserve it.”

Getting up from the couch, I head into the other room where I watch her through the glass French doors. I can hear her yelling, “Of course this is my fault, right? You are unbelievable, Mother!”

“It’s not my fault. I swear.”

I watch my father’s glare as he spits out, “It’s never your fault, you piece of shit,” before grabbing the broom and whacking the wooden handle into my back. I hear the wood splinter and crack when it slaps across my skin, sending shards of heated pain up my spine.

“Get your ass up and walk to school. Don’t ask me to drive you again. You miss the bus, you walk.”

Coming out of my thoughts, I fight the urge to storm out there and take the phone from her so she doesn’t have to listen to whatever her mother is saying to her that’s making her so upset. Instead, I stand here and watch her. When she hangs up and shoves the phone in her pocket, she sits back in one of the chairs and stares up into the sky. She’s sad. And it’s not just tonight. Underneath the few conversations that we’ve had, I can see it buried in her. On the drive to Mount Rainier this morning, she must have had a nightmare or something when she fell asleep in the back seat of the car while Mark and I were up front. I didn’t want to give it too much attention because I didn’t want to embarrass her, but she was scared. She was in Jase’s arms in a matter of seconds, and now, watching her staring into the blackness, I feel there’s more to her than she lets on.

When she stands and turns, she catches me watching her, but I don’t even care. I open the door and ask, “You okay?” because I really need to know.

But when she blows it off and says with mock humor, “My mother’s lost her mind, that’s all,” I see her walls.

“Wanna talk about it?” I keep on, trying to chip as she walks past me.

Turning to face me, she casually says, “Nothing to really talk about.”

I want to touch her, just brush her cheek, something, but I don’t. Being with her today, talking with her, laughing with her—she’s different. Sweet, funny, athletic, and soft. God, she’s soft. But it’s more than that; she has depth to her. A depth I’ve never seen with the girls I’ve been with. Not that I’ve been with them in a way to even notice if they did, but they all seemed so shallow. Even though she doesn’t mean to let on, I can tell there’s a lot going on under her exterior, and I feel this eagerness to explore.