Page 21 of Nothing To Lose
I dip my chin to nod, but find my eyes filling with tears all over again. I'm not sure what I did to deserve this kindness, but I'm thankful they aren't angry. Forcing the tears back, I smile and nod. "I'm fine. I got into an accident."
"Did that accident have anything to do with the gentleman you were here with? I know you had an argument. I worried when neither of you came back."
"Oh. Um—no. It was after that. I’m sorry he was so unfriendly to you. I think he'd had some drinks before he arrived." My cheeks heat, and I feel a surge of anger that I'm having to explain away Guy's behavior. He was rude, demanding, and outright condescending to everyone around him. I never found him to be a particularly pleasant person in the first place, but agreed to the date to appease my father. I thought having the date somewhere I was familiar with might help me feel more comfortable, but it ended up making it worse, because I was embarrassed to have brought him here. If not for leaving my things here and accidentally walking out on the bill, I might never have shown my face again.
"I hope you know we wouldn't judge you for someone else's behavior. It was obvious you were uncomfortable."
"Worst date of my life," I say, chuckling uncomfortably. Never mind that it's the only official date I've ever been on, these poor people don't need to be subjected to any more pity on my behalf. "Even so, there's no excuse for skipping out on the bill." Reaching into my back pocket, I pull out my wallet and open it, thumbing through the bills. "I'd like to make it up to you by–"
"Keep your money, Tyler. Like I said, we were more worried about you. I'm just happy to see you safe."
"Please, Anders. It would go a long way to helping me feel better if you'd let me make it right. Otherwise, I won't be able to come back without it hanging over my head. My anxiety can't handle it." He gives me a look, but nods his understanding.
"I'd also like to put some money on a tab or something for Isaac, like a gift certificate we don't tell him about, if that's possible? I know he comes here often, and I doubt he'll accept a thank you from me directly." It's nowhere near enough to pay back his kindness, but it's a start.
Ander's brow furrows, but I don't explain further. Telling him more will only result in me having to tell more lies to cover the lies I've already told. Instead, I place all the cash I have in a small stack of bills on the edge of the desk, and then thank him profusely again.
When I emerge from the back, Isaac is chatting with Ander's husband, who does most of the cooking. I'll need to write all their names down so I don't forget them, but for now, I just want to get out of here. The more people that filter into the coffee shop, the more I’m itching to leave.
Isaac smiles and wordlessly hands me a cup, and I don't have to ask to know what it is. One sip confirms it's the best Chai I've tasted outside of my favorite Indian restaurant in the city, and I smile my thanks as I nod towards the door, gesturing that we should head out.
"You found your coat?"
"Yeah, turns out I left it here. And my phone, too," I say, holding it up. "It's dead though."
He's quiet for the drive to my apartment building. I almost forgot that he already drove me here once. He didn't even need to ask for my address again. He just knew where to go.
Isaac whistles quietly. "It's even nicer in the daytime," he says, looking around at the large, luxury apartment building and surrounding grounds. I'd almost like to take him on a little tour, especially of the exercise facility, but it's probably best to make a clean break here. Isaac doesn't need me hanging off him like a needy friend.
"Thank you for everything. I really do appreciate it."
"It was nothing–"
"It was everything. I'm a stranger, but you took me into your home, fed me, clothed me,bathedme," I add sardonically. My cheeks grow hot at the memory. "More than all that, you made me feel safe. And I can't tell you how much that means to me. I'll never be able to repay you for what you did for me."
"You don't owe me anything. But I hope we can maybe hang out again sometime? As friends?"
Swallowing, I nod, looking at my lap. "I'd like that." Once I'm not around him twenty-four-seven, and not having to look at his hot, half-naked muscles, ink, and piercings, I'll be in a better space to act like a normal human being around him.
After programming my number into his phone, I head inside my building and turn to watch his truck drive away, feeling like I've lost something vital. I ignore the stares from the doorman, who curses out loud at the sight of me, and any neighbors I pass on my way to my apartment. To top it off, there’s a notice stuck to my door about a noise complaint. Obviously, it’s a mistake. I haven’t been here all weekend and the note specifies that the complaint was made after midnight last night.
Letting the door slam shut behind me, I turn the lock and the deadbolt, then lean against the door. I look around the space I once considered cozy and inviting. My safe space. The first place I ever had to just be me without worrying about my father's input.
Surrounded by my books and computer screens, I don't remember ever feeling lonely here. But now, standing in the middle of all the luxury I take for granted, I can't help but wish the crown molding and built-in bookshelves were unfinished walls and random crates. That the sound of silence I once yearned for when I was around other people was replaced with the low tenor of Isaac's voice lulling me to sleep the way it did last night.
Shaking my head at how truly pathetic I am, I go to my desk and open my laptop first thing. If the doorman's reaction to seeing my face is any indication, I don't think going to class or my study groups is a good idea. I don't want to be stared at, or have to endlessly repeat the same story. And I definitely don't want to be reminded of what happened, either. So I send out an email to my professors letting them know I was in an accident and will be keeping up virtually for the next few weeks. I'm an exceptional student and have never missed a class or assignment, so I don't anticipate any issues. I send a similar email out to my study groups.
Once that's done, I plug my phone into my bedside charger and strip out of my borrowed clothes. For a long time, I stand in front of the mirror, staring at a person I don't recognize. My body is a tapestry of blues, purples, and various shades of red from the many scrapes and cuts. The inches of skin that aren’t marked are few and far between. The swelling in my right eye has gone down enough that I can open it, but it's no less ugly.
“Who the fuck do you think you are? I’m only here as a favor to your father. He’s whoring you out for connections, and you have the audacity to walk away from me?”
“As if I'd want anything to do with this scrawny body. You're built like a twelve-year-old girl. Or maybe that's what you want?" Hands touching, grabbing, pinching. “I guess I’d fuck you just to show you who’s in charge here.” Sharp pain when I try to fight him off. “Look what you made me do, you stupid piece of shit. Now you’re going to get it–"
Cold. Pain. Gravel digging into my face. Sharp fear lancing through every nerve ending.
I start the shower and sit on the floor under the spray, arms wrapped around my knees, hoping the water will wash it all away before it runs cold.
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