Chapter 18
Eighteen
Denise
Avoiding Lucas Callahan is very hard.
Especially when I practically see him everywhere I go on this fucking campus. I’ll admit that I doubt he’s doing it on purpose. We just so happen to always be at the same place and I’ve decided that I can’t hide out in my apartment for another second without going stir-crazy.
Whether that’s Metric’s. Or a party. Or the library. I spot him and he spots me. He’ll give me a tight-lipped smile and wave but he never walks up to me, never tries to start a conversation.
I can’t tell if it’s worse that he won’t approach me or that I’ve been enough of a bitch for him to be aware to steer clear.
But I’m guessing Lucas has had enough of my silent treatment because as I quickly try to grab my coffee order and leave Metric’s, Lucas seemingly appears out of nowhere.
He’s walking in while I’m walking out. Of course, even now, he holds the door open for me.
I don’t even bother to stop, only giving him a quick thanks and trying to walk past him and out the door.
But I should’ve known better. Lucas always seems down for a challenge.
My skin tingles where he gently grabs my wrist, thumb brushing my arm. “Wow,” he chuckles. “At least tell me what I did to earn the silent treatment.”
“I said thank you,” I argue but I don’t meet his eyes.
“You’re right, and that’s the first thing you’ve said to me in days.”
My grip on my cup tightens and my body is fully aware of his hand on me. I feel the urge to step closer instead of away. To hug him instead of avoiding him.
Why do I have to be like this? Why do Lucas’s gentle eyes have to make me believe that maybe I could allow myself to selfishly have him?
I knew I shouldn’t have risked coming here but maybe there was a small part of me that didn’t want to admit that I hoped to run into him. Just to see him. Talk to him. Be around him. This week has been miserable and I only have myself to blame.
“I didn’t realize you wanted me to give you my daily itinerary.” I yank my arm out of his grip and start walking in the direction of my car, wishing that I didn’t completely hate that Lucas doesn’t hesitate to follow, completely forgetting about going into Metric’s.
“No.” Lucas scratches the back of his neck. “But I would kind of like a response when you storm out of my apartment and I text you to make sure you got home okay.”
“Lucas, we live in the same building.”
I stop walking so that I’m now staring directly at Lucas, which proves to be a mistake because my heart does that stupid fluttery thing it likes to fucking do whenever I’m near him.
“I know,” he sighs and shoves his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “You just—you seemed upset and I…did I say or do something you didn’t like?”
Yes.
No.
Yes and no.
I switch my coffee cup to my other hand for no other reason than needing to buy more time to think of what to say. I can’t tell Lucas that the other night felt a little too real for me. I looked at him and saw someone who wanted to get to know me.
Which could’ve been fine if I didn’t go and open my mouth and start to slowly give Lucas parts of me that no one is supposed to have.
It’s safer that way. For the both of us.
“Lucas,” I begin, telling myself that what I’m about to say is for the best. “We had sex, that was it. You don’t need to worry about my feelings.”
Fuck. That sounded bitchy.
I know it sounded bitchy, so I don’t even know why I keep going. A glutton for punishment, I guess.
I rub my lips tightly together, my body’s way of telling me to quit while I’m ahead. To not say the shit I’m about to say but I never listen.
“I know you like me or whatever,” I huff. “But I can’t pretend that I want to be with you just to make you feel better, Lucas.”
It’s like the entire world stops at this moment. The sounds of cars driving by and music playing from a restaurant nearby all become muffled. They’re just background noise to the racing of my own heart.
Take it back. Take it back. Take it back.
My throat tightens and I feel like I’m suffocating on my own cruelty.
The gentle smile that’s usually permanent on Lucas’s face falls. Not at once but slowly as if each word hits him, one by one. His eyes don’t meet mine and he takes a step back, creating the space between us that I wanted but am quickly regretting.
“I didn’t mean to make you feel that way, Denise.” His voice is so soft it kills me. Why isn’t he yelling at me? “I just thought…you know what, never mind. It doesn’t matter what I thought.” He offers me a smile but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
God, it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Sorry for reading into things.”
No, this isn’t right. He shouldn’t be the one apologizing right now but I can’t bring myself to say anything. I just stand here on the sidewalk, letting this entire thing play out.
Because I don’t understand how he’s not angrier. Did I expect him to drop down onto his knees and beg? No. Did I think he’d throw an angry fit? Of course not.
But somehow his anger would be easier to handle right now. Not his gentle voice, like he’s the one that should be careful with my heart right now. I can’t stomach how amazing of a person he is. This just proves my point that I’m no good for him.
“Thanks for um…” I clear my throat, forcing back tears. “For being cool about it.”
“Sure.” He nods his head. “See you around, Stryker.”
I nod my head and give him an awkward wave as he turns to walk away. I can’t help but watch him leave until he’s turned the corner and moved out of sight.
My phone buzzes in my hand and I clench my jaw when it’s another call from my mom. I’m sure she wants to ask me to come over for dinner. Again. You would think that after avoiding her invitation for weeks, she’d give it up.
With adrenaline coursing through me, I jam my finger against the screen, answering the call and bringing the phone up to my ear.
“Yeah?” I don’t bother with a greeting and the harshness in my voice only angers me more.
It’s silent on the line and I’m hoping this was simply just a butt dial but I’m only so lucky.
“DD?” Mom’s voice is laced with concern, making me realize that I’m crying. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
I look back in the direction Lucas walked and force myself to keep heading toward my car. I pull my phone away and wipe my eyes before putting the phone back to my ear.
“Yeah, I’m fine, Mom. What’s up?”
“Are you sure?” She pushes. “You sound upset.”
I grit my teeth. “I said I’m fine, okay? Did you need something?”
She sighs, defeated, and I hate that I’m also this way to my mom. She’s done nothing but love me unconditionally. And this is how I repay her? I just don’t know how to stop being this way.
“I’m making your favorite for dinner. Chicken parm,” Mom finally says. “Brian and I thought that you could come over tonight.”
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it.”
I now have plans of crying alone in my room. My schedule is pretty booked for the evening.
“Can you try?” Her voice is pleading. Hopeful. “There’s something we want to talk to you about.”
I grip the phone tightly, my breathing coming out shaky, willing to say whatever it is that’ll end this conversation. I don’t want to talk anymore. To anyone.
“If I have time, sure,” I say.
“Okay, well I love you.”
Now at my car, I press my forehead against the closed door, shutting my eyes and letting the weight of her words crash down on me. I don’t wipe away my tears, I let them fall instead.
“Yeah, I love you too, Mom.”
We hang up but I don’t move to get into my car. I remain standing in the parking lot of Metric’s, alone all because of my own doings.
But this is what I wanted, isn’t it?
So why is there an ache in my chest?