Chapter Posted - December 04, 2016
Queens, ignore any editing mistakes, especially regarding my French. I'll come back to fix it afterwards!
Leave me your thoughts because I love reading them! Happy Reading. xo
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
C H E R
:: Chapter (08) :: Where she's the one who's always made him care, laugh and smile
I can count on two hands the amount of sleep I've gotten in two days.
Truth be told, I don't know how I'm functioning right now, as I pack my books and shove all my belongings into my satchel. It may have been the Starbucks coffee I downed like water this morning. Or the three snickerdoodles Sara made me swallow when she saw I wasn't having breakfast.
Needless to say, my body is working on a sugar high. It's only a few hours until everything comes crashing down and I need a nap.
As my Sports and Nutrition complimentary class wraps up, I follow the horde of students out of the auditorium and into the hallway. Tara is waiting for me so we can go have lunch by the river. Eleven forty five am usually means rush hour and the hallways are crowded and bustling with bodies. It takes me a while to spot Tara, leaning against a row of lockers.
Her blonde hair is piled up in a careless bun on top of her head and she wears a pink hoodie from her sorority. The worn-out leggings and flashy pink sandals complete her look, but it's the LV bag she carries between her perfectly manicured fingers that speaks volume. She's texting away on her phone, so she doesn't see me.
I call out to her as I weave my way through a few people. "Tara!"
Green eyes narrow and snap up to meet mine. My smile slides off my face.
I frown as I near her. "Hey."
Tara's not happy as she sees me. Her face screws in a mask of fury.
"Oh, God. What did I go now?" I groan, having a good idea of what I did.
"We need to talk."
* * *
We're sitting outside on a wooden picnic banc by the river next to our campus. I unwrap my chicken sandwich, before taking a sip of my iced tea. "You going to talk to me anytime soon, Tar?"
The weather is nice and breezy, but it's gloomy outside. Almost like it's going to rain soon. There are a few people lingering outside in the courtyard. Some throwing around a football. Some resting under the shade of a tree, reading their course packs. Others just downright sprawled on the grass, listening to their music.
I can see this place growing on me. I love my roommate, my classes aren't so bad, and I'm close to family. The only downside is not seeing Pierre everyday like I used to. But compromising is key and I will be skype-ing with him tonight.
"I don't know, Cher. I should probably give you the silent treatment for that stunt you pulled Friday night."
I cringe internally.
"Disappearing like that wasn't cool, Cheryl," she finally sighs tiredly, breaking her pissed bravado façade. "I was fucking worried. Steph and I leave for two seconds to go to the bathroom, and I come back and you're gone. I asked nearly everyone in the bar if they saw you. I went as far as going between your roommate and Jared to break up their grinding slash let's-dry-hump-on-the-dance-floor festival. I was that desperate! And the best part? Jared was so hammered he had no fucking clue where you were and even Trent was nowhere to be seen. I was going to have a coronary attack. You took ten years out of my life, Cher."
I opt for a joke, hoping to lighten the mood. "Damn, Jared must have been pissed you cock-blocked." It doesn't work.
"Cher," Tara snaps, eyes ablaze. "What the fuck, girl. What matters here is that you left without informing me and didn't answer my texts or calls until this morning when I asked for lunch. You know how that scares me. You had three drinks. For all I know, you could have been passed out drunk. Unsafe somewhere."
Guilt is a terrible thing. It seeps inside of me and takes residence for this moment. Granted, I should have been more careful and mindful of her feelings. I acted selfishly over the weekend when I stepped out of the bar to get fresh air...and then left without telling her. She deserves better.
Tara's always been there for me in the past. She deserves better.
"I'm sorry," I say around the rim of my bottle. "Tara, I'm...I'm sorry."
Tara's shoulders drop and she shakes her head as if disappointed.
And suddenly I feel like the worst person ever. Disappointment. I hate that feeling. I would rather she be furious with me. I need expressions. I need emotions. Anything is better than indifference. Tara has always looked out for me in the past and I can only imagine how it must have driven her insane.
Seeing Trenton again messes with me. Coming face-to-face with the boy who I grew up loving, who was my best friend, and who's hated me for the last year messes with my head. It hurts looking at him. Especially when he looks at me with his angry, wounded and reproachful eyes.
All I've wanted to do in the last year is fix what was broken inside of me. While I was busy mending myself internally, I didn't realize how much damage I was doing externally – like loosing my friendships. Namely the one I had with Trenton.
Back then I had needed to get over him, move on, and protect my fragile heart because I'd come to terms with the fact that he could never love me the way I used to love him for years. I needed to get stronger and tougher with my ex stepdad who thought it was okay to use fists instead of words on me.
I've achieved everything now, but there was so much that needed to be filled between the gaps.
"I never meant to worry you, Tara," I say honestly. "It just...it got stuffy for me in there, you know? I'm not used to that kind of atmosphere. Truth is I haven't gone much to bars or clubs in the last two years at Paris. I just needed fresh air." It wasn't a lie, but it was a partial truth.
"Trent drove you home." It isn't a question. It's a statement.
My mouth twists in a bitter smile. "And he left without even seeing me go in." Why it still bothers me, I don't know.
Tara runs her hand over her face and exhales brokenly. "Don't hold it against him, Cher. Trent, he's, you know, ah, changed a lot in the last two years."
I keep quiet and let her fill the silence as I eat.
"He keeps to himself. Rarely jokes much. Doesn't speak much. Not like he used to anyway. After...after Quentin..." Tara tears up a little bit and my armour cracks. My, God. I'm going to start to cry, too. The wound of Quentin's death is still fresh inside of me, especially since I never got closure. Especially since I feel like I let him down. I'm not ready to discuss my dead friend yet.
Tara clears her throat and looks away, as if to keep her composure. Quentin's death, even though it's been a little over a year, still haunts her. It haunts me too, Tara.
Her eyes move over the river to watch the slow waves drifted back in forth in peace. "Trent's isolated himself. Sometimes I feel like he feels like he has no one, you know? Even though we're all here, he's so far away. Distant. Occasionally emotionless. Physically he's present in the same room as us but his mind is elsewhere. Somewhere far away. It's hard to explain."
I understand. Like abuse battering down on you. You're there physically, feeling the blows to your frame. But your mind is elsewhere, trying to float away in a dark abyss where the reality of your situation doesn't exist. Where you're numb, and have lost count of every punch.
That's how it felt like when I lay on the kitchen floor, watching but not seeing, experiencing but not feeling my ex-stepfather beating my very existence to a near pulp.
I understood Trent. Physically there but mentally elsewhere.
"He's still that great guy underneath the hard, unbreakable shell he's created for himself. But he's bitter, brooding and a bit resenting now. Misses Nat, but can't express it. Misses his mom, but hardly visits her. Misses Quentin, but barely breathes a word about him. Moreover, now he loathes Rose for leaving the way she's left him two weeks ago-"
Hold up a minute. "Rose and Trent are still dating?"
Tara's green eyes flare menacingly and she nods. "They were dating up until two weeks ago, when the bitch decided to break his heart because she'd be going to Australia to study God fucking knows what. Good riddance."
I look down at my food and it suddenly doesn't look appetizing. It tastes like cardboard in my mouth but I force myself to swallow my current bite.
The truth is I hate Rose. She's a bitch through and through. Some people can be redeemed but I don't know if my ex-best friend has the ability inside of her. She's the reason why my friendship with Trent crumbled in the first place. She's the reason I allowed my friendship to crumble with Trent in the first place.
Although I can't put the entire blame on her, my mind now understands after two years that she was wrong to ask me to stop talking to her boyfriend – Trenton - because I'd developed – had – feelings for him. It was wrong of her to ask me to put my friendship with him, above all, on hold so she wouldn't feel threatened by my presence in her and Trent's life.
Insecurity was an ugly thing and till this day I never knew why she felt that way. Rose was a pretty girl, but Trent and I were best friends before she even showed up in his life.
It's not like there was any risk of him falling out of love with her and falling in love with me. My stupid sixteen year old mind had known that.
I snort. As if Trent would ever have fallen in love with me. It was a stupid one-sided puppy love that cost me a little too much back then.
Now, however, it didn't matter. I got over Trent. I got over my abusive past. I'm starting a new chapter in my life with a beautiful soul who treasures and cherishes me – Pierre Aguillard. I love that new chapter in my life.
"Good for him." I chug the remaining of my ice tea. "She's a bitch. He deserves better."
Tara huffs a laugh and smooths her blonde hair behind her pierced ear. "Thank God you finally agree. I thought you never would. There was a time when I thought you would never see past Rose wrongdoings because you were too much of a good person."
"That was when I was in love with Trent Reynolds."
That was when I thought I was a horrible girl for harbouring feelings for a boy who was one of my best friend's – at that time, Rose – boyfriend, even though I knew him before her. I agreed to keep my distance for Rose's sake, so I wouldn't carry around my guilt. I hated feeling jealous and shitty whenever I saw them kissing each other. I hated that feeling of despair, lying down in mine and Trent's field, late at night, drunk off a bottle of Jack, listening to Trent babble on about a girl he was in love with. A girl that wasn't me. I hated it all and I hated myself as well for it.
My senior year of high school I realized how bullshit this entire fiasco was. Rose would always resent me. Trent would never love me. And I couldn't date other guys because of him.
It wasn't my fault I had feelings for him. He was that good of a person, and Rose was a bitch for making me feel anything but. That's when I started hating her. Natalie, Teagan and Tara were already done with Rose months prior to that, but I had reached the last straw when I came over for the holidays at the Reynolds' house during senior year and seen Rose coming out of Trent's room in nothing but his shirt, a smug look plastered to her face when she saw me. I thought, fvck this girl and her bullshit. I'm better than that.
And now she's broken Trent's heart.
Silence rushes between us and it's laced with awkwardness. Admitting it aloud feels weird. Almost as weird of thinking back to a time three years ago when I loved my best friend so fiercely I couldn't breathe.
Tara watches me, so I ask, "Does anyone still talk to her?"
Tara shakes her head. "The guys used to talk to her out of politeness because she was Trent's girlfriend, but when you left for France, the guys cut all ties with her. Quentin sometimes spoke to her every now and then. It used to make Trent mad that everyone stopped talking to Rose, but the dumbass never asked us why."
"Guess he'll never know then."
Understanding flashes in Tara's eyes. Trent didn't need to know that I'd been in love with him and what Rose asked me to do. It's bad enough that Jared, Oli and Quentin had had an idea. "Never."
We finish our lunch in quietness until Tara breaks the silence once again. "You know, he was really broken when you stopped talking to him. He's been mad at you since. I couldn't even tell him why you cut ties with him. It killed him, Cher."
My hand fists on the table and I crumple my wrapper with the other one. "I had to do what was necessary, Tara." I look at her, pleadingly. "I needed to protect my fragile heart from Trent. I needed to escape my nightmares. I couldn't risk anything. I was ready to move on with life and that meant leaving him out of it. He was part of a past I wanted to forget."
Tara stares at me. "He called you everyday for the first six months when you left for Paris."
Oh, God. That tears right through me. "I-I know," I stammer out. "I ignored his calls. I ignored his texts. It wasn't helping me move on. Seeing his name flash on my phone reminded me that I loved him. It reminded me what Rose ruined. It reminded me of a time where I was a pushover, where I did anything to please anyone. Including keeping quiet about my stepfather's abuse so my mom could carry on her merry way with her marriage. Eventually I forgot about him. My feelings for him died...and I moved on Tara."
To another boy. One that I love so much.
Tara stares me deep in the eyes, as if she sees something I'm not seeing. Her mouth quirks up and she laughs a little under her breath. "I'm glad you moved on to other things."
"Me, too."
"But...maybe now's your chance to start over with him. You may have left your past, Cher, but Trent needs his back. He needs to be reminded of the guy he used to be. The one that always laughed. The one that always cared. The one who'd do anything for anyone – just like you."
"And I'm that girl? I'm the one to remind him of all the things he used to be?"
She pulls out a cigarette – that was new – and lights it up before looking at me. "He was all of those things with you. You made him care, laugh and smile. He hasn't done those things in awhile."
I don't want to change him. I don't want to get involved with Trent the way I used to be. It's not healthy.
I can't stand all his hurt, especially since I'm the one who put it there. Being around him will break me. I've just finished fixing myself.
I just can't.
"He h-hates me," I blurt out, and my voice sounds choppy with the realization of that statement. Trent Reynolds truly hates me.
"I don't think that's true, Cher."
* * *
I make a quick stop at Teagan's cousin's patisserie, Le Petit Moulin, a delicious Parisian-themed bakery because I miss Pierre and my second home so much. I grab Sara and I hot cups of French Vanilla and a dozen of buttercream macaroons.
Sara is sprawled on her back with her mauve duvet drawn back when I return to the dorm. She looks up and smiles lazily from her position. "Hey."
I cock an eyebrow and gesture at her attire. "What's all of this?"
Her thick black curls are tamed into a tight chignon and she's wearing a casual mint green summer dress and strappy wedges.
"I have a date," she murmurs shyly.
Oh. "Oh." I try to mask my disappointment. "I didn't know you were going out today. I brought us some snacks thinking we'd be studying together."
Her face falls a little and so do her shoulders. That's when I notice the chandelier earrings hanging in her earlobes and the smoky eye makeup. Okay. Homegirl isn't playing around. This guy must be serious.
"I'm sorry, Cher." She bites on her lip guiltily. "I feel so bad right now. I'd cancel but...I really, really want to go out with him tonight."
I wave her off. I'm no one to stop her if she wants to go out and have some fun tonight just because I'm staying in. So I encourage her. "No, girl. Don't even worry about it. We can study together another time. We practically live together. Just tell me who the lucky guy is."
She laughs and it's a dreamy one. Falling back against her bed, she ahs. "He's so hot, Cher. Just wait till you see him. He's coming to pick me up in ten minutes."
"Freshman or...?"
"Junior."
"Damn. How'd you meet him?"
Sara laughs girlishly and says, "At the club. His name is Jared and he's so sweet and good-looking."
I spray out my mouthful of French Vanilla and fall into a coughing fit.
Sara's eyes widen in alarm. She jumps up and rushes to my side. "O-Oh, my God. Are you okay?"
Three familiar knocks resonate on the other side of our door and I push her away, marching towards it angrily.
I jerk open the door swiftly and come face-to-face with Jared. His expression floats from shock to disoriented as fast as a whiplash. "Cheryl?"
"Jared," I growl, taking him in. He's wearing a navy sweater with black jeans and combat boots. His buzzed hair is still sharp, like it's been his entire life, but it's his eyes that twinkling with a soft vulnerability as they dart between me and Sara.
He's nervous. "Y-You're Aiko's roommate?"
Behind me, Sara softly utters, "You know Jared?"
I ignore Jared and turn to face Sara. Suddenly she looks worried, wringing her hands in front of her, all nerves and rosy blush. And all my anger deflates. She doesn't know he's one of my best friends. She doesn't know he dated Nat. The thing is I like her. I don't want her to get hurt. Jared...he's no longer the commitment type. Tara told me. He jumps from one girl to another girl and it's been like that since Nat. I don't want to see Sara hurt.
"He's my best friend," I deadpan. "I grew up with him."
"Oh." Her mouth forms a soft O, like she doesn't know what to make out of that information.
Her eyes are silently asking the question. Is it okay for me to go out with him?
Jared grimaces like he knows what I'm talking about and lowers the white rose in his hands. "I, uh, have a date tonight with Aiko."
"It's Sara," I snap, annoyed at him for no reason. It's not his fault it didn't work out with Nat. It's not his fault he's low-key a man-wh0re now. "And I've heard."
"Are you, um, okay, with this, Cher?" Sara asks timidly and I feel so bad for acting like a b*tch. I don't want to ruin their date, but I...I feel the need to set some boundaries.
I turn to Jared on a sigh and he senses the awkwardness. His muscles tense. "Shit, sorry, Cher. I didn't know." He scratches the back of his head. He knows this can't be a one-night thing now. I live with this girl. He'll be seeing her more often. He has no choice. It needs to be his intentions.
For her sake, I sure hope those are his intentions. I heard from Tara that Jared gets action. Lots of it.
"Don't hurt her," I whisper under my breath, low enough for only him to hear. "I like her. Please, don't break her heart." Not like you broke Nat's heart when you were so obviously in love with her.
Jared's Adam's apple bobs up and down and he curses softly under his breath. He knows the score now.
Sara walks closer to us and grabs her clutch. She's oblivious to the tension around us. "Um, ready?"
Jared glances at me one more time, shakily, and I give him a nod before backing away. Terse look set in stone, I wave at them. "Have fun tonight!"
"This is for you." Jared hands her the flower and she smiles dreamily right as the door close.
"Holy shit," I mumble more to myself than to anyone, really.
Sitting on my bed, I pull out my phone and shoot Tara a text message.
Jared is going on a date with my FUCKING ROOMMATE. -C
Her reply is instant.
YOU'RE FVCKING KIDDING ME. LMAO. I'M NOT EVEN SURPRISED. -T
I text her back.
This is going to be a mess, Tara. I can feel it. -C
She doesn't seem to care.
*shrugs* It's not our mess to deal with, Cher. If Jared wants to think with the head between his legs rather than the one between his shoulders, then that's his problem. -T
Well, shit.
It's weird imagining them with other people. Nat and Jared, I mean. -C
Yeah, well...That's life. Maybe one day they'll end up together. Maybe not. God's will. -T
Since when do you believe in God? -C
Even the devil fears the big man upstairs, Cher. -T
You're not the devil, Tara. Close to it but not really. -C
I'm fucking hot that it's a sin. Hot + Sin = hell. Hell = Devil. Devil = Tara. Case solved -T
You're fucked real hard in the head. -C
I prefer to be fucked real hard in the pussy. -T
End of conversation. BYE! -C
I'm about to put my phone away when it rings out of nowhere. A smile etches on my lips. It's a familiar ringtone with a familiar number. A picture of my fiancée and I kissing illuminates my screen. I fall back on my bed, still in my short skirt and turtleneck, and pick up.
"Baby," I breathe, knowing how much he likes that term of endearment.
His husky voice penetrates into my ear and I feel like I'm back in his bed, lying in the cradle of his soft arms. I haven't heard his voice in an entire week. "Cherie. Tu me manques."
"Je t'aime," I say simply, turning over into my sheets.
He groans. "Stop. I love you, too." The accented lilt of his voice lifts something inside of me. "I wish you were here. I need you here. Come back to me already."
"You can't miss me that much," I tease him back. "It's only been a few days. Plus, you were the one who encouraged me to come home."
The truth is Pierre has always been on board for whatever makes me happy. He makes me happy, but he knows being far away from home makes me sad. He wants me happy. So he's accepting this.
"I know, and I regret it so much," he whispers huskily. "Can't stop thinking about you. You hair, your mouth, your skin, your..."
I stifle my laughter into my pillow. I'm struck with a wave of longer when I hear his chuckling on the other side. "Gosh, je le savais. You only want me for sex."
He plays along, making a pure hungry sound in his throat that screams orgasm. "Mm. Yes. Need you here," his voice drops low. "Been thinking about your tight, little..." he chuckles huskily. "-and all the bad things I want to do to it, Cherie. Now that you're gone, I'm stuck fucking my own fist. We can't have that happening. So you must come back. Right now. Come. Come for me."
"No pun intended," I laugh. "You're so bad."
"You love my dirty talk," he states proudly.
It's true. I can handle a bit of filth when we're in bed. Never thought I would, but Tara would be proud to hear it.
"Do I, now?"
"Want me to prove it?"
"Mhm."
"You and I know I can make you come with just mes mots. Juste mes fucking mots."
Okay. So that was true. He'd made it happen a few times just by dirty talking. So I had a weakness. Sue me.
"That's a lie."
"I can prove it right now."
"Hmm?" My voice shakes. "How are we going to do that?"
I can here the smile in his voice. Can picture his blue eyes sparking with mischief. Can picture his abs flexing, clenching as he lays in his bed, mostly n*ked with a hand propping up his head. He's probably running his hands over his stubble and his gold locks as he accepts my challenge.
"How about you be a good fille, enleve the tight little skirt you're no doubt wearing – the ones I love so much," he rasps low and I suppress a shiver. Okay. Whoa. Conversation took a turn. "Take your fingers and put them where your eyes can't see. Where only my eyes can see. Touch yourself as if I'm touching you, Cherie. Fuck it with your fingers like I'd fuck with it my c-0ck."
I roll over and moan into the pillow even though my treacher0us hands are reaching for the hem of my shirt. "Stop. No. I have so much studying to do."
"And I should be doing you right now. But tu es trop loin. This will have to do. Be a good girl and get to it already."
"No..."
"Do it like I used to when you were too shy to do it yourself, mon amour. Like I taught you, Cher. Like I used to when you were too shy for us to fuck. Show me what a bad girl my girl is. Do it for me, Cherie. Please. Baby."
"God, Pierre. I literally have so much studying to do and you're trying to phone sex me." I whisper but I'm too hot and bothered. I'm turned on and horny and now I miss his stupid smile and stupid penis.
"Cher...How are you thinking of studying when I'm literally dirty talking you?"
I push my panties d-own my legs and shimmy out of them. "It's really hard, believe me."
"Non. You know what's hard? The nine inches I've got in my fist. I'm literally going to explode and you're not helping."
"You know what's also hard? My nipples. I've got no one to play with them. So you're not helping me either. Sucks, eh? Life's not fair."
He groans so loudly in the phone that the sound vibrates through me.
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. If I was there right now, you'd be on your hands and knees."
I lie back down and make myself comfortable, while still teasing him. "If you were here, I'd want to be on my hands and knees, too. Maybe we'd start off with a nice and long blowjob. I know how much my guy likes those."
He was straight up growling now. "I'm coming to see you next week. I'll be in town. Not for long but enough to fuck some sense into you."
"Mmm. Yes. Make it long and hard," I murmur breathlessly into the phone, trying to stifle my laughter again. I love torturing him. "Make sure I can't walk straight the next day."
"Next day? Femme. I'm thinking the whole fucking week."
"Ouh, parfait. I'm on board for that."
"Fuck, Cherie. Get to it already. I'm dying here." He begs. "I miss you. I love you. I need you."
"Pierre...I do, too. So much."
"You only want me for sex. Gosh."
I laugh despite my arousal. "All right, I'm soaked and ready. What's next?"
He's panting heavily into the mouthpiece. "What's next? What's next is that you're going to show me what a bad girl you are."
I smile even though he can't see it. "Okay, mon amour."
Then I proceed to put my fingers where my eyes can't see and show him what a good girl I'm not.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
A/N's: LOL Cher has gone downtownn. Not the goody she was in BT, eh? Thoughts of Tara and Cher's convo? Jared and Sara dating? Cher and her boo having phone sex?
PS: Are you guys liking this whole dual POV thing? I've never written like this before so this is a first for me!