The Fading Trilogy: Fading, Freeing, Falling: Includes 2 BONUS short stories: Hoping and Finding Forever (63 page)

After lifting weights for the past hour with Mark, I desperately need a cold shower, but instead, he suggested a run, and I somehow agreed. So now we are making our way through the streets of a neighborhood that is not too far from the gym, and I’m dying ‘cause running with a semi is not all that fun. God, I have to get these thoughts out of my head, and fast.

“So, you plan on going back to Ohio after you graduate?” I ask, trying to refocus my thoughts on something else besides his cut body that’s covered in sweat.

“I don’t think so. I really love it here. Although I miss my family like crazy.”

“You guys close?”

“Yeah.”

Must be nice. It’s been years since I felt close with my parents. Ever since Jace died, they just avoid me. Back when I was in high school, it was as if I was no longer their son, but some dude that just occupied a room in their home. We barely even speak now.

“What about you? You close with your family?” he asks as we turn onto another street that happens to have an incline so steep, I swear to God, if I didn’t have decent traction on my shoes, I would slide down it.

Huffing out a short breath, I tell him way too honestly, “No. We hardly ever talk.”

“Why’s that?”

I take a second to gather my thoughts because I immediately want to tell him the truth. I’m not sure why since the only person I have spoken to about my sister is Candace. She had already told me how demeaning her parents are and how hard it was for her growing up in a house with them, so when I finally opened up to her, I knew she would be able to relate to me. I decide to go with my gut and reveal, “I have a sister, but . . . she died five years ago. And, in a way, my parents did too. I’m pretty much invisible.”

“Shit. I’m sorry, man.”

Hearing the regretful tone in his voice makes me feel bad for making him uncomfortable, so I brush it off quickly. “Don’t be. It’s life.”

“So I take it you’ll most likely stay here after you graduate?”

Finally making it to the top of the hill, we turn the corner, and I sigh when I see we have hit a flat street. Mark laughs, and I turn to look at him and say, “That bitch of a hill nearly kicked my ass.”

I laugh with him for a moment before answering his question. “I doubt I’ll ever go back home. So, yeah, I plan on staying.”

A smile crosses his face, and we both power run back to the gym. Once we hit the parking lot, I am thoroughly drained. I open the back door to my car and grab a couple bottles of water from my gym bag. Tossing one to Mark, I down mine quickly.

“Thanks for the workout,” he says as he moves to lean against my car next to me.

“Yeah. Anytime.”

“So, hey, I’m gonna be up on campus later this week. I have to shift one of my studios around, and the online enrollment isn’t letting me make the change. You wanna meet up for coffee or something afterwards?”

“Sounds good. Just give me a call,” I say as Mark steps in front of me and leans in, giving me a slow kiss that lingers long on my lips.

I wrap my arm around his waist, fisting his damp shirt, and pull him closer to me. I’m not exactly sure what we’re doing, but I want it. I’ve never been this way before with anyone else, drawn to them like I am with Mark. Getting to know each other—I like it—and I like him, but at the same time, I’m wondering what this all means.

Mark slides his tongue across my lower lip before dipping it into my mouth. Licking and exploring, I have to break the kiss before he can tell just how turned on he’s making me. Something about Mark tells me he isn’t into just screwing around, so I tell him, “You can’t keep doing this to me in parking lots.”

Chuckling, he smiles and responds with, “I agree. I’ll call you later?”

“Yeah.”

“You want a glass of wine?” I ask from the kitchen.

“Please.”

I pop the cork and pour Candace a glass of Merlot before getting myself a beer and joining her on my couch. She’s laughing her ass off, watching an episode of ‘Ridiculousness’ on MTV. We often get together in the evenings and watch these shows. I love that she has the same humor as I do.

“Thanks,” she says as I hand her the glass of wine.

I sit down in the corner of the couch as she leans back into me. The bond that we share has only grown tighter through the years. She’s always been so honest with me; she’s an open book. I try to be just as open as she is with me, but there are some things that are just too difficult to admit—even to myself—but she’s my family. She’s the one person I know I can always depend on to be there for me because she always has been.

“So what’s Kimber up to tonight?” I ask.

As she scoots around to get comfortable, she tells me, “She’s at home with some of her girlfriends just hanging out.”

“You’re so anti-social,” I tease with a soft laugh.

“No, I’m not,” she responds with mock defensiveness and pinches my side when she continues, “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

“You’re either with me or Kimber. That’s it.”

Shifting to her side, she sets her glass down on the coffee table and inches her way down on me, laying her head on my lap.

“Her friends are annoying. And you know I don’t really like being around a whole bunch of people anyway.”

“I know. I’m just giving you a hard time, sweetie,” I say quietly, knowing that this is how she’s always been.

“Plus, I spent the other evening with Kaleb.”

I laugh at her, and joke, “Your date that you didn’t even like? That hardly counts.”

“It counts,” she tries to defend, but it’s lost on me.

Finishing my beer, I set the bottle next to her glass and slide down so we are face to face. “So, what was it about this one that you didn’t like?”

“We just didn’t have anything in common.”

“You say that about all of them.”

Letting out a sigh and closing her eyes, she says, “I know. I just . . . I have a hard time looking at guys that way.”

“You wanna know what I think?” I ask, and she opens her eyes to look at me again. “I think you don’t know how to accept or give affection because you’ve never had it. Your parents never gave it to you, therefore you never learned how to give it.”

“But I accept it from you,” she whispers.

“You do, but I don’t think you view me as someone who would ever hurt you.”

Candace looks down for a minute before returning to my eyes. “Is that a bad thing?”

Kissing her forehead, I wrap my arms around her and whisper, “No, but it does prevent you from having other real relationships.”

“And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Well, aren’t you doing the same thing?”

She’s right. Except now I find myself wanting to change that. I surprised myself when I told Mark about my sister this morning when I don’t talk to anyone about that stuff. There is something different about him that makes
me
want to be different with him. But I don’t want to tell Candace. I’m not really sure what I’m doing, but I don’t think I’m ready to reveal to her that I might want something more with him. So I simply say, “Yeah, sweetie, I am.”

She looks up at me as I give her a quick peck and then rolls over on her other side so that she can continue watching her show. I lie behind her, combing her long, thick brown hair with my fingers as thoughts of Mark start to flood my mind.

“Jase, are you coming out with me tonight?”

Looking up at Kimber, who is standing in Candace’s doorway, I say, “I don’t think so.”

“Are you serious? Why the hell not?” she barks as she sits down next to me while I lie on Candace’s bed.

Propping my hands behind my head, I tell her, “I’m supposed to be meeting a friend later.”

“What friend?” Candace asks as she walks out of her bathroom. She makes her way over to her dance bag and takes out her ballet shoes to start powdering them.

“So, I’ve been watching you do this routine with those damn shoes for years and have never had a clue why you douse those things in powder.”

She looks up at me and says, “Because your feet sweat when you dance and the powder absorbs it. It also keeps the shoes from smelling like crap.”

“Ahhh.”

“Don’t change the subject on me. Who are you seeing tonight?”

“Mark.”

“You’re going out with him again?” Candace asks in surprise and then Kimber pipes up and adds, “That guy from the other night?”

Looking between the both of them, I answer, “Yes, and yes.”

“You’re such a slut!”

I just laugh at Kimber.

“I didn’t know you were seeing him,” Candace says as she stands up and starts walking into her closet.

“I’m not
seeing
him. We’re just hanging out, that’s all.” But I know that’s really not all. It’s not like we’re dating or anything—we are in fact just hanging out—but a part of me really does want more.

Kimber jabs me in my ribs. “Fine, ditch me for ass.”

Laughing at her, I tease, “Has anyone ever told you how delicate your mouth is?”

Hopping off the bed, she kisses the air while flipping me off. When she walks out of the room, I continue to laugh at her crudeness as I hear her call from down the hall, “Text me later, bitch.”

Walking out of the closet, Candace strips out of her sweaty dance clothes and throws on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. She turns to me and lies down beside me.

I wrap my arms around her when she softly questions, “Do you like him?”

“We’re just grabbing coffee, that’s all.”

A few moments later, I feel my phone vibrate in my back pocket. Candace giggles and she reaches under me to retrieve it. When she hands it to me, I swipe the screen to see the missed text from Mark.

“I gotta run. He’s leaving campus now.”

“Okay. You wanna spend the night here tonight?”

“Yeah, I’ll text you when I’m on my way,” I say as I get off the bed. I lean back down and kiss her cheek before I leave.

Walking into Café Allegro, I see Mark standing at the counter chatting with one of the staff. I step up next to him and he says, “Oh, hey. Jase, this is Nathaniel.”

I nod my head, and Nathaniel reaches over the counter to shake my hand. He’s an older guy with a bit of a gnarly look about him. “Nice to meet you,” I say.

“Any friend of Mark’s is a friend of mine.”

Mark laughs and tells me, “He owns this place.”

“Thirty-seven years,” he proudly says.

We visit for a couple of minutes, and then Nathaniel makes our drinks before we find an empty table to sit down at.

“Did you get your schedule fixed?” I ask him.

“Yeah, I really wanted to get into Gibson’s studio, but when I first went to register, it was full. But I hopped online the other day and saw that someone had dropped and there was a seat open.”

“Gibson’s Tuesday/Thursday studio?” I ask.

Taking a sip of his coffee, he sets the mug down and says, “Yeah.”

“That’s my studio.”

“Really? That’s cool. Yeah, originally I was signed up for Professor Walter’s.”

“Oh, man, he’s so traditional. I had him sophomore year, and he criticized everything I did. He was a dick about it too.”

“Well, since we have our capstone this year, I really wanted Gibson ‘cause our design styles are similar.”