I spent the rest of the weekend holed up in my room. After I entered my dorm room Saturday night after having felt like I made the biggest mistake, I broke down into tears and couldn't stop all through the night and all of the next day. Cammie and Daphne did their best to comfort me with food and advice and badly-made movies marathon, but nothing they did made me feel any less of a despicable human being. I keep hurting Wyatt, over and over, in a villainous loop I can't seem to have any control over. I want to tell him the truth about everything, from the first kiss to last night. I am singlehandedly screwing up the one good thing I had ever since I was a broken kid who had no friends because her parents were usually too busy fighting to remember to pick up their daughter when school ended. The girl who had her face buried in a book, headphones plugged into her ears to drown out the nonexistent angry voices in the classroom. When everyone else teased me and thought I was unlikeable, Wyatt saw the real me, saw my struggle—he really heard it more than anything—and made the effort to be my friend. And we were inseparable. We did everything and anything together. He was my other half, and then we became a couple and we grew weaker. Weak enough for me to imagine a world where I was with another guy. One in particular with intimidating brown eyes but a kind dimpled smile.
Holden Walker.
The guy who started it all. If I'd known he'd flip my world upside down and twist everything around, my sanity included, I wouldn't have kissed him back the way I did. He's caused me so much pain and self-doubt and grief, but also showed me a part of myself I never knew existed. He made me laugh harder, smile bigger than ever before. I felt careless around him, which was fine... until careless turned into selfish. I wasn't thinking about Wyatt anymore. I was solely focused on Holden and how he made me feel as though I'd been seen. He saw past my quiet nature and conservative viewpoints on the world, and he just saw the rawness of myself. And he liked me. I shouldn't have fallen for him, but I have, and it's both ruined everything and proven to be the greatest thing I could experience. College is all about experimenting and finding myself. What if I have because of Holden? What if I am the girl who cheats on her boyfriend? I don't want to be that girl. But maybe Wyatt isn't the right guy, even if I was so sure a few months ago.
I'm torn and brought right back to the overwhelming ache of guilt.
What was I thinking messing around with Holden behind Wyatt's back? I honestly didn't mean to. If he hadn't kissed me first at the party, I would have never made the first move. But what I have had felt an inkling of feelings for him and not admitted it to him? Would I even have any feelings for him if he hadn't kissed me? Not knowing the definite answer kills me, but it's something I will never know.
Staying away from Holden the past week proved to be a near impossible task. He showed up to class every single day, leaving me no room to act like he didn't even exist. No—he was right there, beside me during Literature. He never talked to me or even acknowledged me, but knowing he hates me and doesn't want anything to do with me made me want to stop going to class at all. Deep down I know staying away from Holden is for the greater good. I was only hurting him by kissing him back all those times. And staring back at his 'secretive glances' a beat too long. And discreetly listening to music with him in class when Professor Smith wasn't looking. And revealing secrets to him not even Wyatt knew. I was making myself vulnerable with him, vice versa, when there's no real future for us. We were just shooting ourselves in the foot. And even though it hurts like hell to not even talk to him, maybe this is for the better.
"Lavender?" Jay's says, and my thoughts fade away like smoke.
"Yes?" I sit up straighter in the booth of the diner we're studying in tonight.
"Could you help me with this prompt? I keep reading it over and over, but I don't get it, like, at all." He lifts a marble notebook, and I scoot over to him and peer down at his neatly written notes. While I help explain the wordy and complicated essay prompt, Cammie and Daphne talk loudly about a TV show they watched together the previous night. I have no idea what they're talking about since I was writing, but I didn't miss the shocked gasps and I told you so's.
We all came here after classes to cram study for tests tomorrow, on Friday of all days. I'd rather be given a test earlier in the week, not the day before the weekend started. But it doesn't bother too much. We've studied hard for two hours straight, but now everyone is starting to take breaks and order yet another round of soft drinks and food. After Jay understands the prompt, he orders another round of Coke's for us and orders himself yet another junior cheeseburger. I think we're gonna have to change out study spot unless we want to haul extra Christmas sweaters to hide our extra weight. But I don't comment on it and order myself a chicken sandwich and continue studying while they talk over their sodas and make plans for the weekend. Speaking of which, I return Wyatt's text about going to the boardwalk tonight for a lazy date night. He replies with hundreds of heart emojis which makes me smile; I send him back a single smiling emoji.
Since unofficially ending things with Holden, my life has been easier but filled with a void. I no longer have to worry if he's going to show up at my door and start kissing me out of nowhere because he's seemingly over me. He hasn't reached out to me and I'm relieved; now I can finally move on with Wyatt. But I can't ignore the part of me that keeps glancing at my phone for a text or missed call or something. Which is not fair, like he said, but I can't help it. He isn't the one who wants his cake and eat it too, it's me.
As if sensing my thoughts about him, Holden appears at the booth. My eyes move from my spiral notebook to him, and I hear my own horrified gasp. His cheeks are bruised into a nasty purple color and blood drips down his nose. Was he beaten up and mugged on the way here? Or maybe fell down a pair of stairs, all adding up to one-hundred stairs?
"What happened to you?" I ask as he roughly sits down beside Daphne, while Cammie chuckles and teases, "Who the hell fucked you up? Did you try to steal someone's girl again?"
Again?
My heart squeezes. Has he really gone for a girl with a boyfriend before? I'm not sure if I should feel sad or not...
We all stare at Cammie, who nervously pulls at her tank top and splutters, "Oh, um, I meant you. But that—that's not funny, I realize that now..." She starts whistling and avoids my now humored eyes. I return my attention to Holden, who still hasn't said a word.
"Did you get into a fight?" I ask him.
"No, I bumped into a door." I know he's being sarcastic, but his tone is so nonchalant I almost think he's serious, but no door could do this much damage. Unless it was made of reinforced steel and two fists intent on murdering him.
"You don't have to have an attitude; I'm just worried about you," I say.
"Oh, so you care about me now? When did the hell did that start?" he scoffs.
I want to throw a sarcastic comment right back at his face, but I can tell he won't tell me anything useful. Not now anyway. Wait... aren't I not supposed to care about him anymore? But that doesn't mean I can't be concerned about him, especially when it's obvious he got into a fist fight with someone, or some people. I keep quiet and go back to studying. My curiosity is burning to know more, but he obviously isn't going to tell me anything.
The entirety of the study session, I keep glancing at Holden, wondering who he could have gotten into a fight with, but come up empty. He doesn't have any enemies. Well, none that I know of anyway. He looks unfazed, but his jaw ticks every time I look over at him. Why did he even come here? He doesn't have any books with him and he doesn't order any food. Did he come here just to get under my skin? Because it's working.
When we're all walking outside, Holden calls, "Lavender you're riding with me."
I almost fall down the stairs hearing this from him. "You want to drive me back to campus?" I ask in disbelief. A short while ago he was holding himself back from snapping my face and driving off to who knows where, probably getting into another bar fight, and now he wants to drive me back home. He is so moody, it drives me insane.
"Isn't that what I just said?" He snaps and walks over to his car.
"If you're going to be this rude, then I will happily have Cammie give me a ride back." I'd rather walk back to campus before spending twenty-five minutes in a car with him. I look at Cammie, who's already at her car door, waiting for me to decide if I want to ride with her or the irritable Holden. Jay is at his car as well, giving me a sympathetic frown, waiting to take me home.
"Don't be difficult; just get in the damn car!" Holden barks.
"Why?" He's getting upset just because I won't drive back with him; why? He closes his eyes and tilts his head back to the sky. "Why should I get in the car with you, Holden? I thought you were through with me. I thought we decided to stay away from each other—"
"I am just trying to take you home. Why are you making such a big deal out of this?" He questions and shakes his head at me, like me being confused by his wacky mood is the craziest thing ever. When I don't say anything, he unlocks his car and says, "If you want to ride back with Cammie and Daphne, go right ahead, even though they told me they were going to stop at a party before going home in an hour. Or go with Jay, who is also going to the fucking party. Be my fucking guest and walk home for all I care, I was just trying being kind!" He snaps unkindly and climbs into his car, slamming the door behind him.
I jump at both his rough but caring words, and wave goodbye to Jay and Cammie before climbing into Holden's car.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know..." I say quietly, embarrassed by my resistance to get in the car. But could he blame me? I sort of hate those two for not telling me they were stopping by a party first; I feel like an idiot.
He doesn't answer me. Pretty pissed off, he reverses and swiftly pulls out of the parking lot and onto the road. I can't believe after ignoring each other for a week, I am sitting here in this car after he tried to be nice. He doesn't look at me as he drives, even when we stop at red lights. The air in the car is tense and awkward but warm and familiar. Probably wanting to end the car ride sooner, he impatiently drives around a few cars, making them honk at us, and drives onto the freeway. The roads are clearer, and we'll arrive in ten minutes. We sit in silence as he speeds along the almost car-less stretch of road.
"Oh! I forgot I had this," I say and open my purse. I pull out a napkin and show it to Holden. He wordlessly looks at the napkin, then at me. "For your, um, bloody nose." I wave the napkin toward his bleeding nose and would reach over to clean it for him, but he leans away and takes the napkin and covers his nose with it.
"Thanks," he mumbles under the soft cotton.
"You're welcome." I smile, but it feels too forced, so I stop and stare out the window. I watch the lit-up buildings and cars pass us in a quick, disorienting blur for a minute. Wanting to fill the silent enclosed space, I turn on the radio and his fingers tighten around the wheel. I avoid looking at him as I turn the knob, stopping on an alternative band singing about Daddy Issues. I immediately think about Holden's father showing up at the diner one night and I look over at Holden.
"So... who did you get in a fight with?" I ask him.
"No one," he lies.
"Well, you definitely didn't walk into a door," I say, and he rolls his eyes.
"I fought a guy, okay? Does that make you feel better?"
"No. Why would that make me feel better?"
"Because you won't stop fucking asking questions!" He shouts. "I got bored so I fought someone. Don't act like you genuinely care because you actually see I'm hurting."
"What do you mean by that?" I ask softly, afraid of the answer we both know.
He rolls his eyes again and looks out the window, ignoring my question. I stare at the purple ring around his eye and the dried blood just under his nose, a different kind of guilt filling my bones. "I don't like being stared at," he spits, and I look out the window. Neither of us say anything more the rest of the way to campus.
When he pulls into the student parking lot and parks the car, I quietly thank him, grab my purse and turn to the door, but before I open the door he grabs my hand.
"Wait a second."
"Why? Why should I sit around and be yelled at for caring, Holden? Why should I—"
His hand moves to my thigh, and he squeezes gently. My heart stops beating for a second, then two, then however long he stares at his hand on my bare skin. I move my eyes to my thigh, my dress pushed up for his hand to claim my hot flesh. When I look back at him, he's already staring at me. He opens his mouth and closes it, preparing to apologize and remove his hand, but he doesn't say any of that or removes his hand. And I kind of don't want him to. We don't say anything as we stare into each other's eyes, wondering who is going to break away first. I try to find the willpower to push his hand away and storm out of his car, but I can't. He blinks and move his hand upward, and I let out a weird, breathy sound. He instantly stops and cocks his head to the side, his eyes moving to my curled hair.
"I really like your hair when it's down and curled like this," he says and reaches his other hand up to twirl a piece of my hair between his long fingers.
And then the tears come. So many emotions are rushing through my veins, I don't know which one I should focus on. Should I be relieved, happy, angry, resentful? What?
"You can't talk to me like that; I have a boyfriend."
"You keep brining that up, yet I know what your mouth tastes like and how to make you come."
"Fuck you." I surprise myself by cursing.
"Would you be so generous?" He says sarcastically.
"We can't be together, Holden, you know that."
He closes his mouth and breathes through his nose. "I know. Why would I want to be with a stuck up—" His voice raises to a shout, but I smack his hand away and climb out of the car before I can hear the rest of his hurtful sentence. I can't believe he just said that to me, touched me that way, complimented me. I thought we were supposed to move on, forget about each other? But he is confusing me and changing his mind, his actions, but what's new?
"Lavender!" He calls out as I am halfway from the dorm building.
I walk faster and, hearing his feet on the sidewalk, I pick up my pace and practically bolt to the entrance. I head straight for the stairs and climb all the way up to my dorm room. I think I lost him and slow my pace. He must have gotten tired of chasing after me and gave up? Finally, he is relieving me of all the BS he puts me through. At my room, I unlock the door and walk inside. But before I can close the door, Holden storms into the room.
"You have to be kidding me!" I whip around to find him staring at me, his chest powerfully heaving up and down. "Why do you keep running after me? Isn't it obvious we can't be together, Holden? I will not keep hanging out with you and betraying Wyatt. He doesn't deserve to get hurt, not by me, not by the one person he trusts the most. I love him, and he loves me, and I won't let you mess that up for me. And another thing—"
I have no time to prepare for his lips crashing against mine. I'm so shocked and filled with indescribable need, all I can do is stand there and let his mouth move over mine and coax my tongue to move with his. This is so wrong, but I can't seem to pull away. I push my hands at his chest in an attempt to stop him, to stop this endless cycle, at the exact moment I hear the most painful voice say in absolute disbelief: "Lavender?"
I don't have to look at the open door to know it's my boyfriend.