Wasted Heart (20 page)

“Why are we stopping?” Rhye asks, looking around.

“Are you ready to get back?” I ask in return, silently praying that he isn’t.

Looking around, he turns back to me, “Honestly, I’m enjoying myself. Don’t get me wrong. I still want to ride the shit out of that Polaris one day, but not today.”

Here I go smiling again, and I try to stop. Really… but I can’t. I give up. Returning to what I was doing, I cover a soft patch of grass, underneath the shade of the willow tree, with the thick blanket I brought. I then place the picnic basket on one corner along with my boots. Strolling over to the pond, I reach down to pick up a small, smooth stone. I rub it between my fingers before turning to toss it, watching it skip over the glass-like water.

“That’s pretty good,” he says behind me. “Let me try.”

I watch him find a stone, brushing it off against his jeans. He looks to take aim and launches it. It drops in the water in one loud splash, sinking to the bottom.

“Don’t laugh,” his voice threatens beside me, and I do just that. “I said don’t laugh,” he says, turning to grab me around the waist and hoist me over his shoulder, carrying me like a sack of potatoes. Being turned upside down only makes me chuckle louder. A loud smack and sharp sting to my behind halt my laughter and my breathing. “It’s not funny,” he says, but I hear the lightness of his tone.

“You know I could teach you.” It’s not easy talking upside down with my hair falling in my mouth. I spit a tendril out and take advantage of my situation. I play his butt cheeks like drums with my hands. I’m literally loving that he seems to be flirting with me, to the point my happiness is overflowing.

“No girl is going to teach me to throw a rock. I’m just a little rusty, country girl,” he says, dropping me on the blanket and falling down beside me.

“You hungry yet?” I ask, not wanting the moment to go to waste.

“No,” he replies lying back to look up at the bright blue sky peeking through the branches of the tree.

I join him, scooting over to lie right next to him. I watch the multitude of hanging branches sway in the gentle breeze. Inhaling the crisp air, I close my eyes to commit this moment to memory. It’s so perfect; I’m afraid to open my eyes and find it all a dream.

“Syn, tell me why a girl like you, at your age, would buy this land,” he whispers right next to me.

I turn my head to stare into normal brown eyes again. Our faces are inches from each other, breathing in one another’s air. The upside of his cheek catches the light peeking through the trees. My body hums with wanting Rhye, but I sense that we need to casually get to know each other. So, I tap down my own needs and give him what he wants. I tell him about growing up on a small farm, stories of my overactive imagination as a child, and running and playing on acres of land. I describe my craving for the peace of nature, the solitude it offered when my soul needed healing after my mother died. I softly cry remembering not understanding why my dad couldn’t get up out of bed some mornings, drowning in grief, and I would have to complete all the daily chores before getting on the bus to school. There wasn’t many days like that, but every one vividly stands out in my mind.

He listens, sometimes watching me and other times staring off at the sky. I talk about running away as soon as I could to Nashville. I even mention meeting Tag. How those first few weeks on tour were such a culture shock and how fast it became miserable. I speak of going to the Grammys and the day I danced in the pouring rain when my record made it to number one. I bring up about the land becoming available and wanting a place to call mine after running from the memories of my childhood home. The hardest part was describing the betrayal I suffered with Tag. I didn’t hide anything from Rhye. I laid it all out for him, so he could get to know me.

“Are you saying what I think your saying?” he asks, not disguising the surprise in his voice.

“What? That I’m a virgin?” I reply shyly. I turn my face once more to see him staring at me.

“Yeah. Why the hell are you still a virgin?”

“Why, not?” I reply, unsure what I’m supposed to say.

He turns his head to look back at the sky and blows out a loud breath of air. “She asks why not,” he mutters to himself. “I don’t know….maybe because sex feels fucking amazing. Maybe because no one saves themselves anymore. I don’t fucking know why.”

“You think it’s stupid to still be one?” I ask, wanting to hear what he honestly has to say.

“Yes. Fuck. I don’t know.” He turns his head back to stare into my eyes. “Are you like saving it for marriage or some shit like that?”

“No. Just someone special. Someone worth waiting for. It’s not something I can just say, ‘Oops, I made a mistake. Can I have that back, please?’ or anything l like that.” My lips are dry, so I wet them with my tongue and rub them together. I can’t help but notice that Rhye’s eyes stay glued to my actions.

He groans and mumbles, “A goddamn virgin. Figures.” While still on his back, he props his knees up and drums on them with his hands, I’m sure keeping beat with a melody in his head. He suddenly stops and looks back to me. “What about that Tag guy? I thought you loved him.”

“I thought I did, but now, I’m not so sure. The right moment never came for us. I guess that should have been a clear indicator that I wasn’t truly in love with him.” He doesn’t say anything for a while before turning his head to look away. One question is burning on my tongue, and I can’t hold it back any longer. “What about you? Have you ever been in love?”

I wait with bated breath, praying he will have the strength to talk to me.

My mind is still reeling over the whole fucking virgin issue. I was hoping I misunderstood and she said she was a version of something. Fuck, I don’t know. If that Tag bastard didn’t close the deal, then I think that pussy was the problem. He evidently didn’t deserve somebody like her.

When my thoughts finally slow down, I realize what she just asked. I quickly turn my head towards her, my lips already forming the word “no,” but something keeps me from releasing it. Pressing my lips tightly together, the lie will not come. Goddamn it. I don’t want to talk about this shit. I never have.

“I shared my innermost secrets with you, Rhye. Talk to me. You can trust me. Please,” she begs, her innocent eyes pleading with mine.

Now, I really know just how innocent that stare is. Fucking virgin. You have got to be shitting me. Before I can think it out clearly, I start talking for the first time ever. “Her name was Jay. Short for James. Growing up, she was the fucking
it
girl, high school cheerleader and overall hometown sweetheart. All the girls wanted to be her, and hell, all the guys just wanted to be in her,” I can’t help, but add.

She playfully slaps my arm and says, “Really? That was crude.”

I laugh, saying, “Sorry babe, it’s the truth. From the time we were in middle school, Jay always dated JT, the male equivalent to her. The perfect goddamn couple. If you saw Jay, you saw JT all the way through tenth grade. Then, one day, Jay didn’t come to school, and it lasted for weeks. The story was that she was super sick. No one knew what the hell happened. Then, after a month, she showed up looking the same but fucking different. It wasn’t the girl that we all knew. She dumped JT, ignored everyone, and kept to herself.” I pause, nervously chewing on the bottom of my lip.

She reaches over to gently rub my arm and, somehow, it comforts me, making the words come easier.

“We had a gig going on downtown at this club called Vortex, and suddenly, Jay started showing up at my sets. At first, I thought I was the shit. The most popular, beautiful chick at my school had finally decided to ditch the boring bitch of a boyfriend and come play on the dark side. But I caught on real quick to her. She was fascinated with some of the shit we were taking back then. She would ask what pills did what. One time, she even asked which ones would make you never wake up again. Needless to say, I fell pretty fucking hard, and one night, she called me JT’s name when we were together. It killed me. So, I fucked some random chick just because I could. When you’re young, you don’t think that shit like that ends things. But, she dropped me like a bad habit, and by that point, I was hooked like a junkie. Not only did I want her, but I knew something wasn’t right with her. Does it make me a sick fuck that I was more attracted to the broken girl than the perfect one?” I pause, waiting for her to tell me I’m a disgusting prick.

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “Sometimes pain is what draws us to someone, links us.” She looks away from me. Minutes later, she turns back to say, “You could relate to that broken girl, where the other one was a world away. Did you ever find out what happened to her? Made her that way?” she asks eagerly.

I can’t control the bitter laugh that slips forth. “Yeah. I spent a year trying to piece everything together, and one day, it became perfectly clear. There was this Coach at our school that couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. Sometimes, I would catch him looking at her like he owned her. He had this twisted stare when he watched her. Jay was obviously scared to death of him, and it didn’t take a genius to finally know why.”

Turning my head, I glance up at the sky. The pain of knowing what happened to Jay fucking killed me. I can’t stop the misery that now fills me again, including the liquid that dampens my eyes. I take a deep breath, trying to control my emotions, but I can’t help the tremble of my chest.

She whispers, “To know what, Rhye?”

“The bastard raped her. For two years, he taunted her emotionally and fucking physically,” I say, my hands shaking with anger. “He threatened her if she went to the police. She was embarrassed that everyone, including her perfect ex-boyfriend, her perfect parents, and perfect friends, would find out what happened. The only control she had in her life was when she would end it. So, she planned, using me to find out the easiest way to make death happen, and there was not a goddamn thing I could do about it.”

An unwanted tear rolls down the side of my face, and I shut my eyes tight, trying to contain the rest. Memories rush back to me in waves, swamping me with desolation. I need to hurry up and finish the fucking thing.

“But something happened her senior year. Jay met this other bastard that evidently made her less unhappy, so she decided to try and live again. But then, her life got more complicated with shit when JT wanted her back and Jay thought she owed it to him to try and make it work. These guys fought or some shit like that, and she came running back to me, wanting to get high again. And there I was, like a goddamn lost puppy, lapping up her scraps; however, I knew the truth when no one else did, and she begged me not to tell. I decided that I’d rather her be alive and happy with JT than fucked up and suicidal with me. So, I took her to him, hoping he could save her from herself,” I stop, when I hear a tiny sob next to me.

I turn completely sideways on the blanket to see her crying. Something tugs at my non-existent heart and I can’t help but gather her in my arms. “Syn, why are you crying?”

“I...I…I.. can..can…,” she stutters while sobbing. She buries her head in my neck.

“Shhh,” I try and calm her down by rubbing her back. I understand completely. It takes everything within me not to ball like a little bitch myself. I know she’s probably upset because she can relate to being a girl and going through something like this.

Minutes later, she finally calms down. “I can’t believe she put you through that. I mean, I can’t believe she had to go through it, but that was so wrong. What if she had killed herself? How selfish. What about you? How were you supposed to live with that?”

I’m shocked that she is even remotely upset because of me. I have to finish the story though, so I keep going. “So, JT and Jay got back to being a couple. One Friday, before a big pep rally, I couldn’t help but notice Coach Branch fucking zooming in on her. He had this wicked, evil look in his eyes. I’ll never forget it. I decided to follow him that day. This freshman girl’s cellphone was sticking out of her bag, so I grabbed it, thinking maybe I could record something to get his ass locked up, send it from her phone, and Jay never had to know it was me. They both end up in an empty classroom, and I pressed record. It was fucked up, Syn. He was threatening to rape her, again and again, until Jay finally stood up to him. The things he said. I had to block out so much of it, just to live with what I heard that day. I knew I had to help her, to do anything to get him away from her, but I couldn’t let her know it was me. I didn’t stand a chance with her if she knew what I did that day. So, I sent the video to half the school in a text, knowing that the police would end up with it.”

She continues to softly cry against my chest, and I squeeze her tighter to me. Being swallowed whole by so much sadness makes me physically ache, but having Syn in my arms makes it almost bearable.

I finish, whispering in her ear, “That night, everyone saw it. Including JT. I heard he went berserk. So, he left Jay at a party to take off with his best friend to go kick Coach Branch’s ass, but he never made it. There was a car accident, and he died. Jay fucking blamed herself, and then did as she planned all along. She overdosed, but somebody found her in time. All because of me, Syn. If I hadn’t sent that video, JT would be alive. Jay would never have tried to kill herself and probably be happily married to the guy, spitting out little ‘J’ named kids. Everything that happened that night was because of me, Syn.”