Page 50 of Chase
She’s got her arms already outstretched and I fall into them. And just like with Davis earlier, the waterworks start the second my head hits her shoulder.
“He’s a fucking moron and I told him to his face,” she says with her chin propped up on the top of my head.
“You did?” I sniffle into her coat. I feel her chin move up and down as she silently nods. “You must be if you're swearin’,” I add.
I feel a hand on my shoulder and shift my head up to see Max giving me a supportive smile.
“You did great tonight, Red. You were ballsy as fuck up there. I looked over at him at one point and it was like his heart had stopped, he couldn’t fucking breathe,” he says with a smile and gently guides us both into the elevator while Evie maneuvers me out of our hug and tucks me into her side. Davis has his foot jammed against the metal door to keep it open and presses the button for our floor once the four of us are safely inside.
“He looked more like a statue to me, sugar.”
“I think I finally cracked through his dumb cement head. We had to drag him outside after your performance - which was amazing by the way - and I shredded every excuse he’s been hiding behind and poked holes in his dumb logic,” she says triumphantly. “He ran back inside the building, I assumed he was going to talk to you.”
“Your brother made a mess of things and I wasn’t about to let him upset her any more than he already did tonight. I told him to keep moving,” Davis says with a clipped tone that has Evie frowning which sets off Max’s scowl. The doors open and we file down the hallway toward our apartment.
“Chase can be a dumbass but trust me, he would never outright upset or hurt Red. He’s going through some heavy shit right now. He’s trying to figure it out,” Max says after he hangs up his and Evie’s coat on our coat rack.
“Bullshit, I’ve been here less than a week and he’s upset her twice. He can figure shit out on his own,” Davis harshly replies. This is gonna get ugly and ugly fast.
“Isn’t that up to Red, man?” Max asks and folds his arm over his chest. Evie looks nervous standing next to him and chewing her bottom lip while her eyes ping pong between her boyfriend and my brother.
“I made a fool outta myself tonight and it isn’t the first time he’s left me feeling like this. I’m done trying. I told him so,” I tell the three of them and hold my hand up to demonstrate the seriousness of it all, just like I did when he showed up. Any man I’m willing to make a fool outta myself for isn’t a man who I need.Now wanting him is a whole different story.
Evie’s face falls and I can’t stand to see her look so sad.
“I’m going to bed. Max, would you mind lending my brother a pair of sweats? He’s insisting on watching the door on my behalf.” I attempt a polite smile but it comes off watery at best. I don’t miss the eyes that the three of them give each other. I feel their worry from here.Heck, I’m worried too.
“Why don’t we stay up for a while?” Evie suggests complete with her signature puppy dog eyes she has on full display in an attempt to get me to change my mind.
“We can order something to eat and send Max and Davis to go get it.” I know what she’s trying to do and appreciate all her efforts to take care of me but I need to be alone right now. I’m feeling way too outta control and if I’m gonna try to keep myself from cutting again then I need to put myself to bed.
“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, honey bunny, but I just need to be by myself right now. I try to take in a cleansing breath but the air in our apartment is full of pity. It tastes heavy.
They all saw what happened up there tonight. Evie and Max have been privy to more than Davis, and know most of what’s gone on between Chase and I… minus the moments where he finds and follows me.That’s for us only… or it was.
It’s not surprising that they feel bad about it. Especially poor Evie. From what she was saying, she had a come-to-Jesus-moment with him. As much as I want the nitty-gritty details on their convo, it doesn’t matter.
His inability to give me even a tiny reaction was in fact, the reaction I obviously needed to see. I’m so stupid for thinking I’d get anything else from him. After all, he did what he always does, which is absolutely nothing.
The three of them don’t try to stop me when I dip my chin and head for my room. I close my bedroom door and lock it. I harshly throw my bags down on my floor and let out a guttural sob that’s been trapped in my throat for what feels like hours. Tears spill down my cheeks and I’m a crying mess thinking about everything that’s happened.
I don’t bother flipping my bedroom lights on. The lights from various campus buildings and street lamps cast a glow through my window. I’ve kept the slots of my blinds open every night so I can take a look.Or ten.
I can’t seem to help it and like to check to see if he’s out there. When he’s left for the night I swear I always feel it in my core. I’ll get up outta bed, widen the slits of the blinds so I can peak out to see. I always know where to look and will undoubtedly sigh when I suspect he’s gone. I’ll then be up half the night worrying where he is.
But most of all, I’ll wonder. I’ll wonder why he’s out there and not in here, why he stays close but keeps himself distant. I’llwonder why he’s always felt attainable yet outta reach, why my pull to him feels like a life line.
Not tonight though. I walk over to my windows and hastily run my fingers down the blinds to shut him and the world out. The force of my hand sends them crashing up against the glass. I reach in my pocket for a tissue to dry the tears that threaten to spill over, and pull out a folded program from tonight’s show. I rip it to shreds and watch the little pieces fall over the top of my desk.
I grip the sides of the piece of furniture, lock my elbows, straighten my arms, and hang my head. I breathe knowing I have a pair of metal sheers in my desk. They’re razor sharp and exactly what I need tonight.
I rip open the drawer and push aside extra makeup and products and reach for them. I hold the sharp sheers up and scissor them open. I run the pad of my index finger and the fleshly part of my thumb over the exposed and sharp blade. I think about cutting it all away. Drawing a line through it all with the slice of my skin. If I press down a little harder, I’ll split open the tips of both fingers. Just thinking about it is settling.
I jab the underside of my middle finger and tear my skin from the base of my finger up to the tip. I watch the blood trickle down the fresh cut and reach for the pulley to yank up the blinds. I’m not sure if I see him but I’ve got a feeling he’s not far. I flip him off and watch the blood trickle down from my fresh finger cut, down my palm, and splatter on to the remnants of the Winter Showcase Program in the glow of Havenwood’s lights.
There’s a soft knock on my door that has me jumping straight for the ceiling. I stare in the direction of the knock and decide to stay quiet. I can tell by the knock that it’s Davis, he’ll eventually just assume I’ve fallen asleep.
“Sloaney, open up,” I hear him chuckle to himself and then say to the door, “I swear it’s all I keep saying to you tonight.” Ifhe saw my bloody hand he wouldn’t be laughing. I wrap some tissues around my finger and try to clean it up the best I can. I squeeze it in my palm and lay down on my comforter facing the wall.
