CHAPTER 13 | Abby
?CHAPTER 13
Abby
A loud yell from the kitchen startles me awake. There’s a softer second voice I don’t recognize. I freeze under the covers, holding my breath to hear the voices outside the door.
“Dal, calm down. You're going to wake Abby up,” the mysterious voice says.
“Dude, butt out,” Dallas says, pausing a moment. “Dad, I cannot believe you. Is tearing the family apart a hobby for you? And especially after everything our family has been through? Need I remind you of Cole, your dead son?” He’s yelling now. I can tell he’s pacing because his voice moves back and forth, getting louder and quieter. “Wow, okay. Hang up on me. Fucking idiot.” Something hard hits the countertop.
“I’m not on his side, but that conversation was going nowhere if you were just going to yell at him.”
A moment of silence passes before Dallas speaks again, gentler this time. “I just ... I don’t know how to talk to him anymore. I’m so pissed off.”
“I know but screaming at each other never accomplishes anything.” Another pause before the other guy keeps talking. “Drink some coffee. Take a breather. Maybe go to the gym to blow off some steam.”
A loud groan fills the apartment. Feeling like the yelling is over and it’s safe to leave the room, I peel the covers off and head to the kitchen.
I tentatively peer at Dallas. Balled fists rest on the counter, and scrunched brows confirm the suspected anger. “Uh, good morning,” I say.
“Hey! Morning. How’d you sleep?” Dallas asks, moving to the opposite side of the counter. He puts on a happy face and pulls out a bar stool for me. “Do you want some coffee? Sorry if I woke you.”
I approach the blatant change of mood cautiously. “I slept pretty well. I’ll definitely take some coffee, thanks.” I shift my eyes awkwardly toward the guy leaning against the far counter who wears a pair of sweats and a white T-shirt. He grips a mug of coffee in both hands. He’s broad, and athletic, more so than Dallas, but a few inches shorter. “Everything okay?”
Dallas doesn’t turn, but his response drips with sarcasm. “Never better.”
The other guy shakes his head, approaching me. “Hey, I’m Logan, Dallas’s roommate. Nice to meet you.” He holds out a large hand.
I shake it, offering a friendly smile. “You, too. I’m Abby, but I’m sure Dallas has filled you in on all the ... details.”
“He did. I’m so sorry for all the chaos this weekend. If there’s ever anything I can do, just say the word.” He bows his head as if pledging his loyalty, black hair bobbing with the movement.
The warm coffee is pleasant against my lips. I’m thankful Dallas remembered to add the creamer. “Thanks, to both of you, I mean.”
An awkward silence hangs in the air as we all drink our coffee. When Logan finishes, he places his mug in the sink. “Well, I’ve got class in thirty, so I’ve got to head out. I’ll see you at practice?” Logan asks, addressing Dallas with raised brows.
“Yeah, I’ll see you then.” Logan leaves us in the kitchen.
The door closes, and I can't filter my first thought. “So, your roommate is a bodybuilder.”
Dallas snorts and almost spits out his coffee. He grins and says, “Don’t tell him that. It would go to his head. He doesn’t need the ego boost. He spends about twice as much time in the gym as I do.” I laugh and readjust in my seat. When it’s quiet again, he leans both arms against the island and asks, “You doing okay?” Those toned arms flex with his shifting weight. It’s an effort not to stare.
“Yeah, I’m all right.” And then it’s quiet and awkward again. “How are you?” I ask, hoping the general question doesn’t spark any residual anger.
“I’m all right,” he says, gripping the edge of the counter with white knuckles. Silence stills the air, but Dallas speaks again. “So, I have a few classes today. I’m also the catcher for our baseball team so I’ve got practice at four this afternoon.” He looks at me, waiting for my reaction. As I process this information, I realize how much time I’ll be alone, and my heart sinks. He moves to my side. “Do you have someone else you can hang out with like the friend you talked to yesterday? Is she available?” A soft hand rubs soothing circles on my back to comfort my growing anxiety.
“I uh, I have two classes today, too, and some other work to get done. I don’t have a full-time job anymore since Sam made me quit a few weeks ago.” I look to the floor in shame.
“I know. I remember you saying that.”
I blink. “What?” I don’t think I’ve mentioned anything about what I do for work.
“The bike meet last weekend? Remember the guy at the bar that you talked to briefly?”
I slowly nod my head as I put two and two together. “Oh, holy shit! I am so sorry. I totally forgot about that. That was you?” I chuckle a little at the thought that my memory completely evaded me this whole time. The eyes match, so gorgeously brown, the light filters through them like liquid. I don’t know how I didn’t connect the two. Although, I did keep my head down for most of that conversation.
“Nah, it’s all good. You seemed ... a little distracted,” he says, pursing his lips.
“A bit, yeah.” Memories of Sam’s reprimand when I returned from the bar flit through my head. “I’ll call Meredith. It would be nice to see her.”
“Cool.” He pauses. “So, you ride right?”
I smile, imagining the wind therapy I love so much. “Yeah. It’s my safe haven, as ironic as that may sound.”
“You could not be any more perfect,” Dallas says, shaking his head. A large smile reaches past his eyes. “Uh, sorry,” he stops. “I don’t mean that in a weird way. I just mean that I think it’s really cool that you ride. I do, too. That’s all. It’s nice to know someone else who rides.” He runs a hand through his hair, pausing at the back of his neck. “Um, I’m going to go get dressed, so you can finish getting ready and we can head out.” He scratches the back of his head again, dumps the rest of his coffee into the sink, and disappears down the hallway.
I stare at the closed door at the end of the hall. Was that weird? Was he rambling? While I finish my coffee, Dallas reenters the kitchen and starts packing his bags.
“I’m done if you want to go get ready. No rush, but I do have class in about an hour and a half, so we need to head out before then. We can stop at your old apartment if you need to pick up any schoolwork, or if you want your bike.”
Right. My old apartment. That’s going to take some getting used to.
He digs in his pocket a moment before pulling out something small. “Also, here,” he says, extending a small metal key in my direction.
“A key?”
“Yeah. You can come and go as you please. You’re not trapped here. It’s just as much your apartment now as it is mine and Logan’s.”
This tiny piece of metal feels like a foreign object in my hands. “Thanks,” I say, rubbing it between my fingers.
As we drive toward my old apartment, my nerves spike. My cheeks warm. Dallas places a hand on top of mine, stilling my fidgeting fingers. His eyes remain on the road, but that gesture alone gives me enough of a pause to try to regain my rational thoughts. Sam won’t be there. Dallas will. We agreed he’d follow me to meet up with Meredith. Meredith and I agreed to hang out in public areas. We’ve taken the necessary precautions. I’ll be okay.
“Just a bike? No car?” Dallas asks as we pull into the parking lot.
“Just my Ninja. Sam always drove everywhere. I had no need for one.” I look around the lot, scanning for anything out of place, but if I’m being honest, I don’t really know what to look for. I recognize most of the regular cars parked in their usual spots. It’s quiet, only the birds chirping with the spring air. And Sam’s car is nowhere to be seen.
Delight floods my veins with the sound of the engine revving to life. Dallas watches me with a close eye but there’s something else, something keen about the way he’s fixated on me. It makes my heart flutter, and I look away to hide the involuntary blush from my cheeks. Asphalt trails behind me as I make my way toward the library on campus. Whoever invented motorcycle parking should get an award. Dallas pulls up beside me at the curb. He steps out, inspecting our surroundings.
“Is that Meredith?” he asks, looking toward the girl heading our way, smiling ear to ear. Her curls bounce with each quick step.
“Yeah.” I lock my bike and helmet before fixing my backpack straps. “Hey, Mer,” I greet when she reaches us.
She pulls me into a bear hug, holding on longer than usual. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” When she finally lets me go, she cradles my face lightly. Her eyes find the makeup-covered bruise on my cheek, and I watch as her brows furrow together. “Fucking asshole,” she blurts out.
“That’s what I said,” Dallas agrees, hands stuffed in his pockets.
Meredith turns to Dallas and smiles. She extends a hand to him saying, “Hi, you must be Dallas. I’m Meredith.”
“That would be me,” he says, shaking her hand. “I’m glad she’s got a friend she can run to.”
Meredith turns back to me and says, “Me, too.” Another smile forms on her lips before she pulls me back into a hug.
“I’m okay, Mer. Really,” I try to assure her, but she doesn’t let go. Rather, she tightens the hug. “Mer? Can we go inside?”
She sighs but lets me go. “I suppose. Thanks for taking care of her, Dallas. I appreciate it more than you know.”
“Of course.”
We start toward the library, but Meredith stops short. “One sec,” she says. She runs back to Dallas, who hasn’t moved, his eyes still glued on me. She approaches him, stands on her tiptoes, and whispers something into his ear.
I watch from a distance, confused as to what she might be doing. When she turns back to me, Dallas shakes his head, a large smirk on his face, and waves a hand nonchalantly in our direction. “What was that about?” I ask when she returns, also wearing the same smirk.
She hooks an arm through mine and pulls us toward the library. “Just doing my due diligence,” she laughs.
I look back at Dallas, hands back in his pockets, watching from a distance. Although, I’m pretty sure his attention was not on my face.
Meredith and I spend the day alternating between sitting through our regular lectures and lounging in the library. It’s hard to stay focused when every sound, every movement, every person drags my attention elsewhere. The updates from the weekend take all day. She takes it all in stride, asking questions, gasping, insulting when necessary, which is most of the time, and giving more hugs than I’ve ever received. With each developing piece of the story, I feel my body finally start to loosen up. It feels good to talk this through.
“So, what are you going to do now?” Meredith asks as we secretly eat our snacks in the back of the library. The loud wrappers are bound to give us away.
“I have an idea. Well, Dallas brought it up first, but I think I might move in with him. They’ve got a spare room,” I say, avoiding eye contact. When I asked to move in with him, my heart raced. I don’t know what got into me to ask so suddenly, with little to no thought, but it felt like the right move. I haven’t regretted asking him since. So, I’m leaning into it.
She tips her head, attempting to regain direct eye contact. “Okay,” she says, drawing out the last syllable. “Is this what your gut is telling you? Because you absolutely cannot go back to your old apartment.”
“It is. They’ve been trying to find another roommate all semester anyway.” I take a large bite of my granola bar to keep from rambling.
Meredith thinks for a moment. “Do you like this option? Because we can always come up with something else. We could find you your own apartment or something.”
I take a deep breath, swallowing my food. “I think so. He makes me feel safe. Maybe that’s just irrational after such a gruesome relationship, but I’ve been able to relax and breathe more in the last two days with him than I have in at least a year.”
Everything between Sam and I has kind of blurred together. Sometimes I wonder how Sam and I ended up in this position, even before the fight at the party. At the same time, I think good riddance, because fuck him. But it’s all so messy.
“Do you trust this guy? Like, fully trust him?” Meredith asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
“I do.”
“Then I trust you to make the right decision for yourself. There is a wrong answer, but you know what the wrong answer is.” She raises an eyebrow
“I know.” Sam is no longer an option. And I refuse to live with Mom again. I cannot put myself in a place where she keeps trying to “help me” as she puts it.
Shit. What the hell am I going to tell my mom? I don’t know how she’ll react to the breakup. And do I tell her about ... everything else? She’d probably think I’m overreacting and overplaying it, and then tell me to suck it up and get back together with him. Just another reason I’d be a failure to her. And Cameron, I couldn’t even begin to know how she’d react.
I run my hands down the sides of my face. “It’s not like I really have anywhere else to go anyway, right?”
“Not really. I would offer for you to move into my dorm, but I already have a roommate, and I don’t think I can just kick her out.” She chuckles at the thought. As if reading my mind, she asks, “This is probably a stupid suggestion based on what you’ve told me about your mom, but moving back home isn’t an option? I know it’s a longer drive, but I feel like that’s your only other option.”
“Absolutely not. My mother and I would end up strangling each other by the end of week one. The drive wouldn’t bother me. She would.”
My mom was already turning into an angry woman due to the impending divorce, but when my father passed away, she turned it up tenfold. It was a complicated time, and the emotions were not easy to sort through, for anyone. She and I started butting heads a lot. She’d get upset with me about my grades not being as good as my sisters were, how messy my room was compared to hers, or even how my interests weren’t as good as hers. Cameron was an amazing athlete with the perfect grades to back it up. She got into college on a full-ride scholarship. I, on the other hand, did not. No sports, okayish grades, and a messy bedroom. My dad made sure that my college would get paid for with the trust fund, but I still have to wait to use it. Work hard now, save the trust fund for later. That’s been my motto. All that to say, no, I will not be moving home.
I jump at the ping of my phone.
D: Hey, I’ve got practice at 4. You wanna tag along? Otherwise, you are welcome to go back to the apartment if you want.
A: Yeah I’ll tag along. I’m at the library. I can meet you at the field.
Once I’ve finished packing my things, Meredith pulls me into a tight hug one more time. “I love you. You know that right?”
“I love you, too. Thanks for the company today. I really needed this,” I mumble into her shoulder.
She releases the hug but holds her grip on my arms. “Of course. By the way, as you know, my birthday is on Thursday. Since classes end on Thursday, I was hoping to go to the bar. You in? We can pregame in my dorm to save a little money if you want. Do you still have a fake ID?”
Damn, I’d completely forgotten just how close to the end of the year we were getting.
“Yes, and yes. I would love to go. Just one bar? Or are we bar hopping?”
“I was thinking bar hopping. What do you think?”
“Absolutely. I’m in.” As we part ways, excitement for the future slowly slips in. Small bits and pieces, but it’s something I haven’t been familiar with in a while.