Wounded Hearts Will Conquer

Chapter 11 - Driveway Confessionals

Chapter 11
Bailey
Driveway Confessionals

It had been about a month since I’d last gotten into a fight with Evan Tyler Warren.

Yeah, his middle name’s Tyler. He made sure that I knew his middle name before he told me anything else more personal relating to his life. He was weird.

”Bail, I need a beer,” he huffed. Evan slumped down into the tan, leather recliner in my living room, crossing his arms.

”Well now that you’re twenty-one, go buy your own beer,” I retorted, smiling lightly at him.

Evan and I agreed a while ago that we would try to be friends. It was going well so far, considering he was such an asshole to me when we first met. The tiny jabs at me became far less frequent if I didn’t question any further into his personal life. The fewer questions asked, the easier we got along. It became a daily thing, and I didn’t try to provoke him. I just wanted to be friends with him, and I didn’t want to ruin the friendship we were beginning to have. If it meant not knowing about his Dad, then I could deal with that.

I didn’t quite like the arrangement that we had, me staying quiet when something really personal came up, but I learned to deal with it. It was who Evan was.

He didn’t like to let people in, and I was really the only one who understood what that was like. I didn’t let anyone in at all, let alone Evan and I wasn’t about to. I knew what it was like to keep to a secret from someone. I knew what it was like to build walls to keep people out. I wasn’t about to be a hypocrite and question why he was doing the same to me, no matter how close we got.

Evan and I had a stable friendship, just not a really close one. And I could deal with that.

I wanted to keep Evan around. He was kind of like my safety blanket, the one I could always count on to be there if I really need to let everything out. I didn’t know when that moment would come, but I knew I would crack one day, and I had a feeling he would be there to comfort me if I needed it. As long as Leslie didn’t mind.

Oh yes, he’s dating Leslie Burkhart.

They started dating around the same time Evan and I became friends, and let’s just say neither her nor I were too fond of the other. We got along as much as we needed to at work, until she found out that Evan was my close friend, and I found out she was his girlfriend.

It was like two opposites trying to get along, but never working. Leslie was the blonde, free-spirited partier, where as I was the quiet, unsociable red-head with a million and one secrets. She wasn’t someone I considered a friend, and I’m pretty sure I could say the same for her.

Work suddenly became extremely awkward and not entertaining. When I would ask questions, she would give me the bitchiest attitude imaginable. If she saw me talking to an attendee at a concert, she would give me death glares when I wasn’t looking. When I walked into work with Evan…well let’s just say all hell would break loose.

I wouldn’t mind so much if she didn’t have such a reputation as a slut around this town. She’d been rumored to be sleeping with as many as twenty different guys, all in the course of a few months. Most were attendees from indie rock shows at the theatre. Others would remain unnamed and unseen.

Evan didn’t deserve a skanky girlfriend, and she sure as hell didn’t deserve a guy like him.

”Shut up,” he joked, sticking his tongue out at me like a little boy. That was one of the few quirks that I enjoyed about him, how boyish he could be in some moments.

”You want me to go get it for you because you’re too lazy, but you must have forgotten that I’m under aged. And you’re a boarder-line alcoholic,” I stuck my tongue out back at him.

”Whatever,” he scoffed, playfully. “And I am not a boarder-line alcoholic,” he said, crossing his arms across his chest, eyeing me down.

”Whatever you say, Ev,” I giggled.

”So where are your parents?” he asked quietly, like he was waiting for a reaction that leaded to a blow up. When curiosity came into the picture, one of us would ease into the question, just in case it became too much to talk about.

I rolled my eyes, not caring about this question. “Dad’s off laying down vocals for a new song and my mother is out shopping with her friends,” I said, waving my hand nonchalantly.

He merely nodded his head and flicked between television stations on the flat screen aimlessly.

As I was flipping through a magazine, enjoying the comfortable quiet filling the room, he cleared his throat. I looked up and met his eyes.

”Listen,” he said, suddenly making the air in the room serious. “My mom’s having a ‘guest’ over tonight,” he went on, making air quotes. “And I kind of need a scapegoat for later…” he faded out.

My eyes widened slightly. This was the first piece of personal information I saw from Evan since the night he confessed to me back at the field.

He noticed my silence and continued to ramble on. “But, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to! I mean I definitely wouldn’t want to come to an uncomfortable family dinner with someone else. Especially with this new…”

“Sure,” I quickly nodded, cutting him from his rant.

This should be interesting.

* * * * *

When I sat at Evan’s dining room table with his mother, little brother and her ‘guest’ Chief Williams from the firehouse, I found myself feeling really uncomfortable. Usually, when I was invited over for dinner, the conversation was easy-going, enjoyable and full of jokes.

Tonight’s dinner was the furthest thing from that.

It was so quiet that you could only hear the sound of metal forks scrapping against glass plates, and Chief Williams loudly chewing at his steak. I saw Evan cringe, just watching him eat it. It was quite gross, in my opinion, because I was always taught to eat with my mouth closed, not like a cow.

”So,” Mrs. Warren sighed. “How was everyone’s day?” She looked around at the bored facial expressions of everyone around the table, except for Greg’s. He looked so anxious as he awaited someone to finally speak up so he could talk. He looked like he was trying hard to imitate his older brother though, staying silent and brooding.

”Mommy, today in school, I drew a picture of a fire-truck and wrote about what I wanted to be when I grow up, and I got an A plus and a sticker from Ms.Amdel for it!” he cheered, smiling up at everyone. I smiled back at him, nodding my head in approval.

Chief Williams, for the first time tonight, spoke up. “Good job, son,” he grinned, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. I was silently thanking Evan for making me sit next to him, and not next to the disgusting being on the other side.

Evan froze. His hand, which was holding a forkful of mashed potatoes, dangled in midair and then he dropped it onto his plate.

”He’s not your son, Cal,” he snapped, giving him a death glare.

”Now Evan, I’m pretty sure that’s not what he-“

He cut off his mom and got up from the chair next to me. He threw his napkin down and glared at Williams. “He’s Gregory Warren’s son,” he spat, finally walking out of the room. I heard the front door slam shut a few seconds afterwards and the awkwardness set in.

”I’m sorry,” I said to his mom, getting up from my chair. Even though I didn’t agree with his savage eating habits, I threw Cal an apologetic look and made my way outside to Evan.

I shut the door lightly behind me, and padded out into the dark night, searching for his figure with the little light coming from the porch wall lamp. I found him perched against his car, throwing little rocks at Chief Williams’s car.

I ran over to him and hit his arm. “Stop that.”

”No,” he exclaimed, like it was not a big deal. He continued messing up Cal’s car with little dents in his shiny, new topless red Mustang.

Fed up with his childish actions, I hit his arm harder and the fistful of rocks he once held onto were now splashed all over the gravel beneath us.

”Hey!” he yelled at me. He threw me a glare and I quietly ignored it.

”No, that’s not right, Evan. You may be mad at him but you can’t dent up his brand new car that obviously looked like it cost him a fortune.”

”Really? Watch me,” he threatened, bending down to pick up the rocks again. I grabbed him by the back of his tight-fitted ivory t-shirt and pulled him back up sharply.

”Stop it, Evan!” I warned.

He got back up and shouted. “God!” before sinking against his car and onto the ground on his bum. He was such a child sometimes.

I sunk down next to him and took his larger hand in mine. I ignored the slight tingling sensation I felt shoot through my own and looked up at my friend with concern.

”What’s wrong?” I questioned, keeping my eyes on him. He didn’t look up at me, but stayed staring at the black gravel.

”Everything’s such shit,” he said, throwing a rock against the adjacent garage in front of us. “That’s not his fucking son.”

”That’s not what he meant, Evan and you know it. Now what’s really bugging you about this guy?”

”He’s not going to replace my father, Bailey!” he yelled, finally looking up at me with those beautiful grassy colored eyes. I kept his gaze, waiting for him to continue.

”I know he’s not just a ‘guest’. He’s my mom’s date!”  With the word ‘date’, he threw another rock at the garage, putting a small silver dent into the freshly painted white door.

”Why can’t your Mom date?” I questioned. He hadn’t told me how long it had been since his Dad died, or how his Mom felt about the entire thing now. I only knew as much as he told me the night at the field, and I didn’t want to stop questioning him anymore. He can’t get mad at me just because I’m clueless.

”Fate’s an asshole!” he yelled, repeating my words from that same night. “My Dad’s supposed to be the one here. NotCal,” he gritted his teeth when he mentioned the chief’s name.

I felt him grip my hand, silently showing me how much this was all eating away at his heart. I knew he wanted to tell me what happened, and I so badly wanted to know. I wanted to know what hurt this beautiful boy and why he was so sad sometimes. I wanted to make it all go away. I knew how it all felt to want to push people away, but I felt like I didn’t want to be pushed anymore.

”Evan,” I prodded, slowly. “How did your Dad…” I found myself fading off and feeling anxious as to what he would say. The major part of me was expecting him to bounce up and start yelling at me, just like he did a month ago when I prodded too much.

I saw him heave a huge breath and put a death grip on my palm. I gripped it back, letting him know that he could tell me.

”He died during 9/11,” he stated, keeping firm eye contact with the ground.

At that moment, I felt my heart break into tiny, microscopic pieces. I felt sadness and guilt flutter in my stomach and tears ready to prick my eyes, just knowing how he must be feeling.

”Evan, I’m so sorry,” I whispered, keeping the tight grip on his hand.

”And the shittiest part is, I didn’t even get to say goodbye to him,” he breathed, his voice sounding choked. I felt the pain for him eat away at me, just seeing how it broke him.

”Oh Evan,” I sighed, resting my head on his shoulder. I gripped his hand, using the other to rub it affectionately. “That’s why you can’t ever talk about it,” I continued.

He merely nodded, not wanting to go any further. I had so many more questions to ask him, like what happened that day. I wanted to know why he felt like he was such a shitty person. I had so many questions, but I knew that he didn’t want to go on anymore, and I wasn’t about to make him.

”Lanie died too,” I spit out, slowly. I wasn’t expecting to tell Evan this news on this night, at this specific time. I really wasn’t expecting to tell him at all honestly. I just felt like he needed to know that I knew what the pain felt like. That he needed to know that he wasn’t alone.

”What?” he choked, finally looking up at me. He ran a hand underneath his runny nose, and pushed his hand through his hair.

I lifted my head up off of his shoulder and nodded my head. I pushed a piece of hair behind my ear and looked down at the ground. Now it was my turn to not make eye contact.

”How did she…” he breathed, still holding onto my hand.

”Brain cancer,” I said, feeling the tears well up at my lids. I hadn’t cried in front of anyone in so long. I didn’t want to do it now, no matter how close I felt to Evan.

I furiously wiped underneath my lids, hating the traitor tears that fell and the way I could feel my heart re-breaking again when I spoke about her.

”Bailey, I’m so sorry,” he mimicked my earlier words, gripping my hand more tightly as he spoke.

”I just thought…” I breathed, running a hand over my stray hairs to get them out of my eyes. “That I wanted you to know that I know the feeling,” I finished, taking a deep breath.

”God,” he sighed. I finally got the courage to look up at him and noticed he was staring up at the sky again. “Why do our lives suck so much?” he laughed. It was small, and sounded choked up from the mess of emotions playing around about us, but he laughed all the same. I felt my heart swell at the sound, and felt a little piece of sadness slide away just hearing it.

It was amazing how much of an affect another person can have on you.

”I don’t know,” I sighed, looking up at the golden, tiny stars with him.

”You know,” I continued, taking in another shaky, heavy breath. “Lanie used to do this all the time.”

”What? Spill her confessions on a dirty gravel driveway?” he smirked at me.

I shook my head, smiling slightly at him too. “No. She used to look up at the stars all the time. She said it made her feel better no matter how bad she was feeling. Lanie said you could look up at the stars and know that you weren’t alone. That someone else out there was feeling the same way you were.”

He tightened his hold on my hand again and whispered, “You’re not alone, Bail.”

I looked down at him and felt my heart skip a beat at the way his green eyes stared into mine. It was like we were sharing the same pain, the same sadness, but the same memories as well. We didn’t need words, or big gestures. We just needed to grip the other’s hand and know that we weren’t alone. That we had each other.

I felt the air around us get a little chillier, but neither one of us had left the other’s sight. I so badly wanted to lean in and place my lips on his, no matter how bad it would make me look. I didn’t care that he had a girlfriend. I didn’t care that he might not feel the same way. I just knew that I’ve been feeling this intense pull since we first met on the rooftop and I hadn’t shaken it since.

I could have sworn I saw him lean in slightly, keeping eye contact with me. I noticed his eyes turn softer than I had ever seen them, and an emotion I have yet to see bubbled beneath the surface. This was all brand new. Just as I was about to do the same, to meet him in the bliss of the middle ground, I jumped at the sound of his phone going off.

He jumped back slightly too, clearing his throat heartily. I watched as he pulled his iPhone out of his back pocket and he widened his eyes.

”It’s Les,” he stated, looking up at me. I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t even know what to say. I felt my mouth open, not knowing what was going to come out.

He stared at me, hopefully, waiting for my reaction. It’s like he wanted to ask for my permission to answer her call or not. I didn’t know what to do or what to say. I could only sit there, gaping like a stupid fish as he looked back at the ringing phone.

”I’d better take this,” he said, quickly, getting up from the ground. He brushed the gravel off of his bum and put the phone to his ear. “Hey babe,” I heard him say as he walked back into the house. His voice wasn’t cheery. It was gruff, but not in a blatant way like he had been hiding something. It was like it was so natural to ease right into a conversation with her.

Just at the mention of the word ‘babe’, and I felt my heart re-breaking for the third time that night.

Why couldn’t he call me ‘babe’?