Fearless Page 6

  “I know,” Ren replies a bit reserved as she stands and walks beside me.

  I sense her withdrawal, and arch an eyebrow in response. No words are needed. She knows me well enough to know I’m serious.

  “I will. I promise,” she asserts, elbowing me in the side. Her playfulness is comforting, and is a start. I smile. “Now, get out of here. Thanks again for coming to my aid last night, and nursing my cuts,” she adds when we reach the door.

  As I step out into the hallway, I look her straight in the eyes. “See you later, Renny.” And then I place another gentle kiss on her forehead, and leave a butterfly kiss on her cheek.

  “Don’t allow the fears of your past to control your ability to live in the moment. Be present – always.”

  Mel Ballew

  Chapter Ten

  2 months later

  Two months have passed since the night I followed Ren back to her dorm. It’s also been that long since she started seeing some guy named, Stefan, who she met at a local coffee shop.

  As part of the deal Ren insists on, she is dating both of us so she can figure out how she feels.

  “I don’t want to hurt either of you. Tuck, you’re part of my past, a very significant part of me. But Stefan is part of my present. I was getting to know him before you came back into my life. I need to take things slow with both of you so I can sort out this entire mess. Please try to understand and respect what I feel is best for me right now.”

  The minute the words leave her lips, I can’t refuse her. The past we shared, despite its turbulence, is still so much stronger than what she feels for him. Right? Or maybe I fucked things up beyond repair? Either way, I promise I will respect her wishes. I need to trust in us.

  As I down the last of my energy drink before I hit the gym, I make some sense out of all of the conflicted feelings. Taking Dr. Bradford’s suggestion that I journal as a way to organize my thoughts, I plop onto my desk chair and pen them as they come to me.

  Apologizing to Ren was not only beneficial for both of us, but it enabled us to start fresh. At first, I know she was uneasy. But the more time we spend together, the better it feels. Or at least it does for me. She won’t communicate her feelings when I pump her. Each time, she hems and haws around, and I end up letting it go, not wanting to push too hard, too soon.

  I have made sure we have done some of our favorite things, like watch old ‘80s movies – even if they are chick-flicks, which I hate, but she loves. It was always her and Elle’s thing. But I know it makes her happy, so I don’t mind watching them with her since we’re trying to work things out. We’ve also gone to the gym together, gone for thick, peanut butter, hot fudge milkshakes (Ren’s favorite), and even drove out to the beach house a few times to take long walks on the beach.

  Recently, I’ve noticed her pulling away. She becomes more distant, like she’s not giving all of herself. Maybe it’s him? Maybe it’s me? Maybe I’m not giving enough of myself? Or maybe I’m trying too hard?

  Last night, I took her for pizza at the local joint. She said it was one of her favorite places. I didn’t mind. Their crusts are thin, and that’s what we ate growing up.

  As soon as she got in the vehicle, I could tell something was off, so to speak. I waited a while before I asked, “What’s wrong, Renny? You’re zoned.”

  She looked straight out the windshield, paying no attention to me. She was in her own little world, like she didn’t want to be with me. The only thing that seemed normal was how she melted every time I called her Renny. It’s been my nickname for her since, hmm, maybe after our first kiss. God, I think we were twelve then.

  “Sorry, I was thinking. Nothing’s wrong.” Ren didn’t even look at me. I knew something was wrong. I took her hand and brought it to rest on top of my thigh.

  “I’ve been trying, Ren. These past couple months, I’ve been trying. Really trying. But you do not let me in. I know I fucked up. I can never tell you how sorry I am for that. I’m trying to move past it, but you aren’t letting me, especially when you’ve been so distant. And now you can’t even look at me, or tell me what’s wrong. I can tell something is bugging you.” I spat it all out so fast. I didn’t even pause for a breath. I needed to get it out, off my chest. We grew up together. We were each other’s first everything. And we talked about and shared everything together. Hell, I’d been trying so fucking hard. I even baked her a batch of fucking brownies, and she didn’t say a word. Brownies bonded us all those years ago.

  She never answered me. She never said a single, solitary word after I spurt all of it out, but just stared right out the window.

  The rest of the night was uneventful. Conversation was limited. We ate our pizza without saying two words or using complete sentences. It was trivial fucking convo. That’s it. Ren asked me to take her home. I did. I didn’t even bother to walk her to her door. I pecked her on the cheek and told her I’d call.

  I did call.

  She didn’t answer.

  Over the next several days, all my calls rolled to her voicemail. Not all my texts were answered, either. I tried to go see her, but no one answered her door.

  Now I feel like I did when I went to UNC, before I got kicked out. The same haunted reminder that I’m not enough. It’s the same feelings of inadequacy I’ve had since I was a small kid – the way my dad used to make me feel. I wonder now, will it ever go away?

  When I went to UNC, I looked for a fresh start. Most kids we went to high school with were supposed to transfer out, but didn’t. They stayed local instead. For me, this was my break. The very break I needed to get away from all of the constant reminders that I didn’t protect my twin sister, didn’t save her, and couldn’t save myself. I didn’t deserve it, and I knew that. Going to UNC should have allowed me the chance to maybe breathe for the first time since we all lost Elle.

  It didn’t.

  It gave me a better excuse to drown my sorrows in partying. HARD. This became my ultimate downfall. I was constantly angry. I despised life. I hated I lost Elle, had to live without her, always feeling like part of myself was missing, and then having lost Ren, too. I’ve said it before, and still mean it. Both of these girls were my heart. Without them, there wasn’t a rhythm, let alone a single beat, and no reason to go on.

  One night at a frat party, I grabbed a jar of homemade moonshine and an eight ball of coke, and locked myself in the bathroom upstairs. The party was already dwindling down. I could hear some of my brothers banging some girls, and the music still blaring below me. I could feel it vibrating under my feet. I knew I would never be enough. I knew, no matter what, it would be my last day on earth. I was getting what I deserved. I didn’t protect my sister. I didn’t protect Ren. I pushed her away. I treated her like absolute shit. I didn’t deserve to protect myself. Hell, without a heart, why live? This very question kept going through my mind up until I blacked out.

  I awoke in the hospital, sometime early the next morning. My life changed that day, again. The anger wasn’t gone, but it was better. I was still broken and didn’t feel I was worthy to live, but I made a promise to my mom I would see the Doc.

  I did. From the day I was released from the hospital, he helped save me, even when I didn’t feel I deserved it at all. Doc Bradford helped me understand that the fear of my past was controlling my life, and I wasn’t choosing to live in the moment. This one thing, as soon as he said it, hit me hard, smacked me square across the jaw, stung my heart, and rang true in my soul. I knew, no matter what, I had to accept my past to welcome my future, but I had to always choose to be present.

  I reread and reflect over the past few sentences I’ve typed. I see the significance of what Doc told me. Today, and for the past two months, I’ve been fighting to get Ren back. I wanted to not only apologize, but make up for what I did to her, and make things right again. But she’s been distant. Maybe it’s not about that. Maybe it’s only about forgiveness and acceptance. No doubt we were meant to meet again, but maybe it isn’t about mending our relation
ship, but mending our hearts so we could be free from the pain of our pasts.

  I need to trust what I wrote. The words stare back at me in black in white. I lean back in my chair, thread my fingers and raise them behind my head, and ponder my newest realization. Closing my laptop, I find a greater peace inside. No matter what happens next between Ren and me, I know we’ll both be fine.

  *

  Two weeks ago, I filled a blank Word document in my journal with some of the most resonating truths. At the time, I sorted through recent events regarding how Ren acted with me, which proved coincidental in how it corresponded with the poignant words Doc Bradford shared with me during one of our therapy sessions.

  Little did I know then that the realization I keyed would become my new reality.

  I text Ren, as I do every day. Every day, she ignores them. This morning, she responds.

  I go about my day, feeling no motivation, but needing to follow a routine. As I heat up some ravioli in the microwave, my phone rings. To my surprise, it’s Ren.

  “Hey,” I answer, somewhat hopeful. Sensing something is off when she doesn’t answer and I detect what sounds like a few heavy breaths of hesitation, I inquire. “Um, what’s wrong, Renny?”

  This time, she doesn’t hesitate to reply. In fact, I hear a bit of strength in her tone. “Tuck, listen, I can’t see you anymore. We can still be friends if you want. But we can’t see each other anymore, not like you want, anyway.”

  At first, her sudden outburst leaves me shocked. It’s like she had to get it all out at one time. And I’m sure it’s true, but still, I’m stunned.

  After a brief pause, I release a deep sigh. “Well, honestly, I knew this was coming. One night in the coffee shop, I saw you two, reading. I watched the way you looked at him, the way he looked at you. I knew you were seeing him while you were seeing me, but I guess I just hoped you would choose me. The only problem is, Ren, I don’t know if I can just be your friend.” Mindlessly, I run my finger along the indentations between the cinder blocks on the wall in front of me as my chest rises and falls in defeat I did expect this, but hoped for a different outcome.

  “I get it, Tucker. I completely understand. I thought I could move on with you, but I can’t.” Her sigh releases the second my finger moves to the next indent. I sigh, too. “I want you to know I did try. It’s just, I see now that my moving on needs to be without you. I have to let you go to become me. That’s who I am when I am with him. I’m sorry if that hurts you. Truly, I am.” She sniffs before she exhales, and I can sense that although she does mean it, it hurts her to hurt me. I move my finger along the next line, next indentation, and let it trail without purpose.

  Her words sting. The way they looked at each other in the coffee shop is how she and I used to look at each other. It’s how I still look at her. But some things are not meant to be. Or maybe they are, but not for the reasons we expect or wish. I think they may happen to teach us how to become stronger despite them. For me, it’s strength without Ren. I allow a long pause, not sure how to answer. In truth, I don’t believe there is a right or wrong way, because the truth is, it won’t matter. What matters now is getting off the phone with her, so I can try to move on without her.

  “Good-bye,” I manage to spit out in a low, almost inaudible voice.

  I hang up the phone and slump to the floor. Pivoting my body, I punch the cinder wall, screaming out and releasing my pain. I grab onto my fist, then face forward again and draw my knees to my chest and then resting my head on my arms on them. Somehow, despite it all, I know I will get through this as hard as it is. The sting of her words and the pain in my fist penetrates through me, but at least my fear isn’t controlling me. I am not afraid of what tomorrow brings. This is a first for me.

  The microwave beeps, grabbing my attention. I take a deep breath before I spring to my feet to fetch my ravioli.

  Life goes on.

  “Surrender to what is. Let go of what was. Have faith in what will be.”

  Sonia Ricotti

  Chapter Eleven

  1 week later

  I am not perfect. I am the first person to admit it to anyone willing to listen. Okay, so I know I tried desperately to be strong. I caved.

  Remember the whole “life goes on” spiel I tried to convince myself to believe after Ren called things off? Well, it lasted one week.

  One. Fucking. Week.

  I text Ren. She ignores it, of course. So what do I do? Yep! I send one text after another until I can’t take it anymore.

  Then I do one of the dumbest things known to man.

  I chase after her.

  Since I know when her class ends, I go across campus to catch her on her way out. I know! I’ve already admitted it isn’t the smartest move. Compelled, I have to try.

  What’s worse? As soon as I see her, I pull her to me and kiss her. She slaps me. Yes! She does. To be fair, I can’t say as I blame her. It was a total dick move on my part. I should have known better. I should have turned to chocolate instead of melting like chocolate as soon as I saw her.

  The burn from her handprint is not what bothers me the most. What she says discharges pins and needles down my spine. Why? Her truth is real.

  “Tucker! How dare you?” she spews. Anger fuels her, and gives her a backbone.

  “I told you as nicely as I could that we are over. We share a past. That’s it.” She stiffens and narrows her eyes at me while she pokes my chest. “I tried so hard to be as gentle with you as I could, and honestly, I didn’t even have to be. I chose to be, Tucker. After everything, I still choose to be. I’m really sorry it didn’t work out between us this time. I’m sorry a part of our history can’t become part of our future. We have no future if not as friends. I’m in love with Stefan. I choose to be nice to you, but I choose Stefan. That’s it.”

  The next thing I know, my jaw gets pounded. My head jerks with each blow until it stops as abruptly as it started.

  Him!

  He stomps off after he shoots daggers at me, and then at Ren.

  It doesn’t even take one second. Not one.

  She throws me a mixed look of hurt, anger, and disgust, and then darts off after him. I am left standing in her wake with the regret of ever coming. But I realize it is what is best. Her truth is real because it is her choice, not mine to make for her. I can’t choose myself for her if she isn’t part of the equation at all. Sometimes, life isn’t about what is easy. It’s about stumbling over some stones, falling into the occasional deep pit, yet still finding your path is worth traveling. Yep, that’s me right this very instant. Sadly, she is right. Irony mixes with truth. We do share a past filled with pain that seems to have gotten mended in our present.

  *

  Later the same afternoon, I sit on a park bench, enjoying one of the most beautiful days of fall this year, and take my first real breath since encountering Ren. I can be a pretty sentimental guy, although I’d be the first to deny it around the guys. Having grown up with Elle, she always made it a point to let me know when I needed to lighten up, or as she would say, “Stop being a dick, Tuck.”

  As I look around the park, I remember Elle, contemplate what went down with Ren, and allow the bright colors to enthrall me. Yellows, oranges, reds, and tangerines paint the trees, and fallen leaves kiss the ground. I relax. Strange, but since coming to this park often to study and think, I find peace here.

  After what feels like a long time mulling over everything, including my going after Ren, I catch up on some reading and study for my Psych exam. The next thing I know, as I focus on comprehending chapter ten, a question breaks my concentration.

  “Sorry, is anyone sitting here?”

  At first, I pay no attention. The girl with the angelic voice isn’t talking to me, right?

  Wrong!

  She clears her throat. “I’m so sorry to interrupt. I was hoping this seat is open. May I? I need to sit for a minute, and then I’ll be on my way. I tripped over that dang tree root on the edge of the path, and now
I think my ankle may be twisted.”

  I look up from my book, and what I see hits me in the gut! No lie.

  These days, I’m not so sure I believe in angels. Then again, this petite redhead with the most alluring green eyes astounds me. Air catches in my lungs. Right away, Elle’s li’l devilish laugh darts through my mind. It can’t be. Can it?

  Disbelieving, I struggle to offer her a reply. Somehow, I manage. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were talking to me.” Mesmerized by her, I try hard to remain cool. “Never mind me. I’m having a bad day. Sure, have a seat. I’m Tucker.” I smile.

  The long bench is broken into three separate, but connected sections. Even with all the empty space, she sits right beside me. Her aroma of deep aromatic flowers mixed with earth washes over me. It’s trance-like, hypnotic, but I don’t care. I could breathe her in all day.

  Somehow, I succeed in standing. My feet support me, and my knees don’t buckle even though they tremble. Her beauty causes my whole body to want to do strange things to her. Trying my best to remain in control, I take a deep breath and get another whiff of her scent.

  “You smell great.” I lose control of my mouth. “You have to watch out for the roots. Here, let’s take off your shoe. Give me your foot. Let me have a look.” I realize I’m being forward. My speech is a bit demanding with all kinds of stuttering involved. Moron!

  She releases a quiet chuckle, which leaves me wanting to kiss the laugh from her lips, and then she lifts her foot into my waiting hand. I remove her tennis shoe with care and her sock with ease. She flinches a little, and I can tell she tries hard to be strong so I don’t see how much it hurts her.

  “Hi Tucker. Thanks. I’m Tania. It’s so nice to meet you. And, thanks for… this.” She points to her foot and smiles.