forty-nine
As I return to the dinner table, I find our food in front of everyone, and Lorelei's spot sits empty as she stands with her foot perched against the brick wall outside—her phone still glued to her ear. My conversation with Josh went how I expected it to go. Josh wanted nothing to do with what I needed to ask Sawyer, and although it only complicated my situation more, I didn't blame him. He was right. If it was necessary, as I had explained to him, I should've been able to ask him myself. The only upside about talking to him was that he did say he'd let Sawyer know to call me later tonight. It took every shred of composure to hide the tremble in my hands as I sat at the table.
What if it had been too late by then? What if the Dean had read the letter and prepared to have Trevor arrested because of Wyatt's accusations? To say I was panicking would be an understatement. It wasn't so much so the Dean finding out, and it was naive of me to assume a situation like this would stay silent forever, but that didn't make the situation any less stressful. What shook me to my core was the reaction of everyone else. Would I even be able to return here for another year after having a scandal like that spread about me? If I'd been in Dreycott, this would have already been handled—translation; I would have already fulfilled everybody's gossip itch and then been ostracized by the people that smiled in my face days before. Luckily, in a town with more people meant endless drama to gossip over. The next big juicy story was only twenty-four hours away anyways. If today it happens to be me, by Sunday, it'd be some academic scandal or other insane rumor to spread around about someone else. All I'd have to do is survive that.
It isn't until Christian nudges me in the forearm that their voices resonate in my ears. Christian suggests we wait until Lorelei has returned inside before we start eating. I'm well on my way to openly objecting when Trinity shoots up from her chair in pursuit of the front door. Chris and I reacted shortly after, but by the scrunch of my expression and Chris's look, neither of us knew what had happened. With Hinkhouse filling with people intending to celebrate the end of the semester, stifling through the cluster of people takes us a few minutes. During the entire trek through the crowd, people passed whispers speculating about what had happened.
"She just collapsed," I hear someone say as we push out the door.
Trinity is to her knees by her mother's side in seconds before quickly lifting Lorelei's head from the concrete to prop on her knees. My eyes darted to Christian, desperate for what to do next, but I noticed he was no longer by my side. He'd somehow passed my gaze because I didn't see him again until he emerged from Hinkhouse with a glass of water clutched in his hand before passing it to Trinity. I can't help but glance between them—trying my best to comprehend how they'd been so calm in such situations. On the other hand, I'd been huddled in the back. Close, yet ten thousand miles away. Loss has left me destitute for too long now, and the thought of finally finding a shred of appreciation for Lorelei just for her to be in danger would send me over the edge.
Trinity continues to caress her mother's head, calling her name in hopes of waking her from unconsciousness, though her efforts fail her. Christian has grabbed the phone from Lorelei's limp hand and has it up to his ear. My attention remains on my brother, watching him respond to the voice on the other end. "This is his son, Christian Castillo," he says. His eyebrows scrunch even closer together as he remains voiceless. I want to know what's being said because whatever it is, it has him intrigued.
My attention finds Trinity once more. She glances at the frosted glass of cold water before picking it up and pouring a splash on her mother's face. There's a flinch from Lorelei before her eyes start to flutter open. Trinity quickly offers her the glass of water, but Lorelei refuses as she frantically searches the area around her, no doubt in search of her phone. Luckily, with Lorelei no longer unconscious, the crowd begins to thin. Someone even mentions the health center being on their way to help.
"I'm alright—I'm sure," Lorelei says. "Where's my phone? I need my phone."
When I turned back to look at my brother, there was an immediate drop in my belly. Almost as if my subconscious knew something I hadn't learned yet. But the tears running down his cheeks meant two things could be sure. One, our father had woken up. Two, and the most unbearable option, he'd finally given up. The world is silent, and I'm on my butt before my eyes blink. This was it. My brother and I were now orphans—a fear I dreaded more than anything. Tears well in my eyes as the voices of those around me distort into uncomprehensive chatter. Trinity's voice is calm and manages to keep me somehow centered, though the taste of salt and the moisture dampening my lips inform me that my emotions are again getting the best of me.
"It's okay, Mom. Your phone is right there. Christian has it. Why are you so adamant? We need to make sure you're okay. Help is coming. You took a pretty hard tumble."
"We don't have the time. They said he's awake," Lorelei cries. "We have to go. Now!"
It's only then that sob emerges from my lips, and my brother rushes to my aide to comfort me, but my emotions have me too far gone, and I melt into his arms. Somehow that news sent an even additional giant wave of fear over me. I don't want ever to imagine a world without my father. I can't. But it hurt more genuinely realizing that I couldn't leave with them. Even in the weeks that managed to pass without hearing his voice, I could vividly hear his response to the guilt beginning to suffocate the breath from my body. He'd tell me I needed to handle my responsibilities like adults should. I couldn't do that by leaving Trevor here to stifle through the mess the both of us caused.
It takes us all five minutes to get our emotions under control before we return inside Hinkhouse to take our food to go. The health center van arrives shortly after, but Lorelei shoes them off instantaneously, claiming she'd been fine. Christian, Trinity, and Lorelei had a long journey ahead of them that would require sustenance. Mainly because if Chris got ahold of the wheel, he'd do no less than ninety to get to our father. Christian urges them to the car while he and I wait for the waitress to return his bank card.
Without needing a mirror to check my appearance, I know exactly what it would reflect—an emotional young woman trying to pull herself together and handle her business. If I couldn't be there for my Dad when he woke, I at least wanted a clean name and a clear conscience for him to wake up to. My brother frantically tapped his foot against the floor in anticipation of the return of his card so we could leave while I'd been trying to come up with a way to tell him I wouldn't be joining them. There is no right way for this conversation, and maybe my brother would never be able to forgive me, but it had to be done.
"I'm not going with you when you leave," I say lowly, though it's loud enough for him to hear with clarity because he turns to me with that same scrunched-up brow and straight-lipped expression. "There are things that must be handled here that can't wait."
He doesn't respond—not that he warranted one anyway when his expression told everything his tongue held back. He turns to me, nods once, then turns his face forward as if to end the conversation. That's when I know I can't keep the truth from him a secret anymore. Christian has always had a clue about my involvement with Trevor, and If the heated argument at the theater didn't serve as evidence, I don't know what would. I couldn't ignore how it must have looked from my brother's perspective, though. I stayed here to stick up for a man my brother would also say took advantage of me over being with my father, who had just awakened from a coma after attempting to end his life.
That's not it. Not in its entirety, at least. Sure, that might have been the perception of our situation, but there was more to the story. It wasn't just his reputation at stake here. What would happen if word did get out and I was nowhere to be found? I'd have no way to defend my side of this, and being away would only solidify my guilt. The future I wanted for myself wouldn't start well if I'd been expelled during my first semester of college. What agent would like to work with someone openly content with breaking the rules? That wasn't the woman I wanted to present myself as; I had the right to defend that.
Clandestine—yes, our relationship could be defined as—not whatever anyone else would say it was. They would never understand a slither of the passion he and I shared, and no one could convince me otherwise. Trevor's a fantastic man. Intelligent, gentle, and humble. He doesn't deserve to be arrested because of a misunderstanding, and if there were something I could do to prevent that, I would.
I catch a glance of my brother's face, doused in disappointment and laced with every shade of pain visible, and once I have dared to open my mouth to speak, the words that manage to crawl their way to my lips go hushed as the waitress returns with my brother's card. His face transforms instantly to gratitude for her and her service as he thanks her for her work and turns on his heels toward the exit. I follow close behind, jogging to keep pace with him.
"This was not an easy decision if that's what you think. There's no place I'd rather be, but I'd risk not being one of the first faces he sees once he wakes up over the end of my college career and reputation. Dad would understand. Why can't you?"
He doesn't speak, slows his pace, turns to look at me, and salutes my statement with yet another nod. I want to say something. Anything. Even if it led to an argument because at least we'd be communicating, we don't make it that far as he hurries to Lorelei's car. It takes us no time to approach the front, and Christian pushes out the door to the parking lot. We've only managed a few steps from Hinkhouse when I glimpse Trevor in my peripheral as he approaches the side door entrance. Christian had to have been well into his tunnel vision because he wouldn't have kept walking had he seen Trevor approaching me. He stays forward, closing the distance between him and Lorelei's red beetle, while Trevor stops before me.
There's much to be said between the two of us, and had I spoken first, I might've lost the last shred of strength I'd been holding on to. Instead, I muster enough energy to feel the corners of my lips tug upwards. Trevor returns the jester, almost leaning in to wrap me in a hug I desperately wish he had, though he places a hand on my arm with a comforting squeeze. It's enough to cause the overproduction of tears that I'd been holding back to fill my eyes again. I latch them shut, hoping to some degree that it's enough to prevent them from falling. I know my methods have failed me once I feel the wetness slip down my cheeks.
I needed his comfort. He'd been the primary source of solace with my Dad unable to be there for me. Trevor's hand begins to caress my arm, and all I want to do is melt into him, but I know we can't. My Eyes flutter open just as I catch a glimpse of Trevor stumbling back on his feet. He drags a finger over his nose, and I watch in horror as crimson stains his skin. Trevor looks in my direction, but it's clear that his attention is on something in the far distance.
Christian is behind me, making his way back in the direction I had already seen him pass before I noticed Trevor. His back is toward the car, but his eyes scold me and Trevor with every step he takes in the opposite direction.
"I'll make sure to tell Dad you said hello," he says. "You might want to put some ice on that," He adds, eyes locked on Trevor before he raises a hand with the middle finger raised in the air with knuckles beginning to redden. It takes him less than a minute to get in the car and pull out of the parking lot. I did not doubt that he'd maintain that same speed until he returned to Dreycott.
It isn't anything but instincts that shift me from where my brother departed back to Trevor, who had been trying with no avail to stop the blood pouring from his nose with the hem of his shirt.
"Oh, my gosh. I can't believe he just did that. Let me help you."
I'm shocked that he doesn't object, even after suggesting to drive him home for a change of clothing so he can return on time to begin his shift. On the way to his place, he tells me he didn't go to Hinkhouse for a shift but to talk to me about what happened at the theater earlier today.
We're at Trevor's house in less than ten minutes, and luckily his nose has stopped oozing blood all over the hem of his white button-down shirt. He leaves me to my own devices before disappearing toward the bathroom to fetch the first aid kit I'd gotten way too familiar using on him. When he returns, he sits at the bar near the island and tilts his head back to allow me the rein to clean him up. Our proximity and privacy allow me the freedom to discuss the events that happened earlier and our possible outcomes, but my tongue forbids every attempt at the mention of it. I was terrified to lose him in any sense, and I knew that my time was only limiting the closer I got to freeing him of blood. Underneath it all, It's impossible to overlook the bump on the bridge of his nose and the redness gathering beneath both eyes that would no doubt turn black and blue in a few hours.
"Good as new," I tell him—yet he still hops from the stool and rushes to the bathroom to view his injuries.
When he returns, he collapses on his belly on the sofa, allowing a loud groan to fill the apartment. He doesn't have to invite me because I'm already beside him in seconds to offer him comfort. I'm well aware he might decline. I'd expected him to tell me to leave the moment I'd treated his bloody nose, and remained shocked as he looked at the ceiling silently. My hand finds his arm as he had found mine moments ago, and I give him the same comforting squeeze he'd given me, trying to fabricate anything I could to fill the silence in the room.
"I love you," I tell him, shocking him from his prone position and myself. "I don't know why I'm saying this now after I've put us in the most fucked up position we can be in, but I love you, and I can't lose you, Trevor. Please let me fix this for us. Even if that means we can no longer be together, we keep our positions here and our reputation intact. It's the least I could do."
I'm unsure if he'd even been listening to a single word I've said because he doesn't blink. His mouth hangs slightly agape as he runs his hands through his hair and leans back on the sofa, leaving me to suffocate in the silence. Was I being too honest? Telling my college professor that I loved him? I would have if I wanted to debate or prove that my love for him was more than philia but eros. Maybe I would even shout it from the mountaintops if that meant he'd understand how I felt about him. It was a love I'd only read about in novels. The kind of love I witnessed between my parents that I so desperately wanted to keep my father from throwing away for a new woman. The type of love that paralyzes you into stupidity. By now, I'm confident that how my body has sunken into his sofa has displayed every ounce of how his silence has glued me into place. I know because he rises from the couch to join me on the loveseat, and still, I'm powerless against the force he radiated. Our skin collides the moment he plops down next to me, and I'm even more taken aback once he brings his hand to my cheek and caresses my bottom lip before leaning in to kiss them.
And again, our bodies melt together as if we'd always been meant to be one body—one soul. Amid our lovemaking, Trevor brings his lips to my ear and expresses the three words I'd never get tired of hearing from his lips. He loved me too and wanted just as well to try everything we could to evade what could be waiting to happen.
Unbeknownst to Trevor and I, an hour manages to slip us by until the ringing of my phone finally releases us from each other's grasp. It's Sawyer. We don't speak much on the subject over the phone, as he requested being in the presence of each other would solidify the situation more accurately, so Trevor and I dress and find comfort on opposite sofas until a knock on the door announces Sawyer's arrival.