Beautiful Tragedy (A Standalone Romance Novel) (20 page)

“Well, you must like it too, even more than me. I
don’t own a copy of it.”

“Neither do
I
,” he said with
another grin. “This is Jake’s.”

“Oh, Megan must have left it here,” I said.

He put it on and sat down next to me and said, “Why do
you think it could be mine, but seem like you can’t even consider that it might
be Jake’s?”

I didn’t know how to phrase it without making it sound
a little like an insult. Finally I said, “I think you’re more comfortable in
your masculinity than Jake is in his.”

He laughed out loud at that and said, “Like metrosexual
or something?”

“Oh God no!” I told him. “Those guys with nail polish
and eyeliner completely freak me out. I just mean you don’t ever seem like you
have anything to prove…to anyone.” That must have been the right way to put it,
because before the little boy who would grow up to be Christian Slater with a
baboon heart passed out on the orphanage playground he had covered my lips with
his and completely obstructed my view. I didn’t care though. After two or three
minutes I couldn’t have even told you what we were watching, and after five it
was doubtful that I remembered my own name. When we came up for air, he looked
at me with those intense blue eyes for about thirty seconds, and I could barely
remember his name.

Brock made love to me again that night, and it was
even better than the first time. Afterwards, as I was drifting off to sleep, I
told myself not to forget to thank Megan and Jake for bringing him into my
life.

I woke up in his arms again the next morning.

“Good morning,” he said with a sleepy smile when I
opened my eyes.

“Hi,” I said. “How did you sleep?”

He closed his eyes and smiled.

“Fantastic,” he said. “How about you?”

“The same,” I said with a smile.

“Can we stay here like this all day?” he asked,
wrapping his arms around me and pulling me in tight.

“You have no idea how much I would love to,” I told
him, honestly. “I have my final in lab today before the Christmas break. I
can’t miss it.”

“Yes you can,” he said. “You can quit school and be my
groupie.”

I laughed, “That sounds like an ambitious path to take
with my life. I don’t know if I can dare to aim that high though…and then
there’s Gran…” He opened his eyes wide then and said, “Okay, go take your silly
final. I’m going to lie here all day and smell your perfume on my pillow, and
wait for you to call.”

“
Mmm
,” I said, snuggling
back into him. “School is over-rated. Maybe I could pull the band groupie thing
off after all.”

He hugged me again and then he said something that got
me up.

“There is the fact that Jake will probably be coming
home soon.”

I was still not ready to meet Jake at the breakfast
table in one of Brock’s shirts. By the time I finished in the bathroom, Brock
was dressed and ready to take me home. Sometimes I just can’t believe how
amazing he is.

After I showered and dressed, I went to my class,
hoping that I could come down from my cloud a bit, at least long enough to
concentrate on my final experiment. We were paired up, and if one partner
ruined her part of the experiment, we would both fail. I didn’t want to make my
partner, Mai fail. She was a perfectionist, and failure could possibly send her
spiraling down into the dark, cold abyss. While we were setting things up for
our experiment, Mai said, “You haven’t stopped smiling since you got here.
What’s the joke?” I’m tempted to tell her that it’s no joke, but because I just
spent the night with the most gorgeous, incredible man on Earth, but instead I
said, “I’m just happy to be here.”

She looked around the beat up old lab letting her eyes
rest for a minute on Professor Noland. Let’s just say he looks like Joan
Crawford and leave it at that. Then she looked back at me like I was crazy. I
smiled at her again. As I set up for our invisible smoke ring lab she stood
back a little, just in case I really was a little bit crazy. I didn’t blame
her, I was still grinning like an idiot.

When all was said and done, I had come through for
Mai. We got a B on our final. It was no A, but nobody’s perfect. It proved that
I was good at multitasking too, because I still hadn’t been able to stop
thinking about ice-skating in the moonlight with Brock as he sang to me, or
eating a picnic dinner he had packed for me under the stars, or making out, or
making love to him, and I still got a B. Go Me!!

On my way home after class, I had to go by the coffee
shop and get my schedule. Now that I was finished training they were going to
give me a real schedule. It was a good thing, I really needed the money.

“Hey Cassie, is my schedule ready?” I asked her as she
bustled about. I was surprised that she wasn’t whistling while she worked. She
really liked her job.

“Hi Molly,” She said. “Yeah, I think it’s in the
back.” I started back to get it when suddenly there was a blonde, cheerleader
type standing in front of me.

“Excuse me,” I said. “I didn’t see you there.” The
girl looked familiar, but I didn’t think much of that. I did think was weird
that she was still standing right in my way. She hadn’t moved an inch one way
or the other, and she was glaring at me.

“Is there something I can do for you?” I asked her,
finally.

“Do you know who I am?” she said.

Barbie? Skipper?

“No, I’m sorry. Should I?”

“My name is Tammy. I’m Brock’s ex-girlfriend.”

The stalker that was it!

“Oh, hello,” I said. I’m not sure what else I was
supposed to say to that. I’ve also never met a stalker. At least I don’t think
I have. I’m not sure what stalker/new girlfriend etiquette called for in this
situation. I tried to step around her again, and again she stepped in my way.
Okay, now I was getting pissed.

“Will you excuse me? Please!” I said, none too
patiently.

“I just thought maybe you and I should have a talk,”
Tammy said.

“Most people walk up and say, ‘Hey can you and I have
a talk?’ They don’t block your path.”

She seemed to realize suddenly that she had pissed me
off. Not that I think she genuinely cared, but she tried to act like she did as
she said, “Oh, I’m sorry. Can we talk?”

I looked at the clock. It was four-fifteen. I hadn’t
seen Brock in over six hours and I was beginning to have withdrawals.

“I have five minutes,” I told her. She turned then and
walked to a table in the corner, expecting me to follow her. I did, grudgingly.

“What’s this about? Tammy…is it?” I asked her.

She smiled. It was supposed to be sweetly but it
looked more like the offspring of Barbie and Attila the Hun.

“Brock is still in love with me. I’m sorry to be
blunt, but I hate to see you get hurt.”

I was speechless. I don’t mean that in the sense of
the old saying, I was truly, literally speechless. Nothing would come out.

“Did you hear me?” she said, finally. Now I smiled. It
was my own cross between a cheerleader and a serial killer smile and I found my
voice.

“Oh, yes I heard you,” I said, simply. “Is there
anything else?”

She looked shocked that I wasn’t getting confrontational.
She had geared herself up for at least a verbal fight.

“I think you should just back off. Brock and I were
meant to be. He wrote a song for me, you know.”

“That’s nice,” I said with a tight smile. “I need to
go, okay?”

This chick was not right in the head.

“Just remember that I warned you. When he comes back
to me, and he will, I plan on taking him back. I’m letting him sow his oats
with the…waitress-types first.” She really did want to fight. In my head I
could picture myself slapping that snotty look right off of her face.
Don’t give her the satisfaction, Molly. Make
her leave with as much pent up crap as she came in with.

“And I thank you for that,” I said. This time I said
it with a sweet smile. “You take care, Tammy.” I got up, went to the back got
my schedule, said good-bye to Cassie and she was still watching me as I went
out the door. I was expecting to find a boiled bunny on the stove, very, very
soon.

My phone rang as I was walking back to the dorm. It
was Brock, and just seeing his name on my caller ID made me smile. I took back
everything I said about his parents giving him a funny name. I had been
ill-informed. It suited him perfectly.

“Hey!” I said, picking up the call.

“Hi, gorgeous,” he said. “How did your lab final go?”

“I passed,” I told him. “How was your day?”

“It was good. I worked on another song for you.”

I thought about what Tammy had said, but then I
quickly shook it off. I told myself that I was too smart to let that nonsense
Tammy was spewing to get to me.

“Aw,” I said. “How sweet.”

“What are you doing for dinner?” he asked me.

“Well, I don’t know,” I told him. “I can’t eat in the
cafeteria because of my special diet. I haven’t talked to Megan yet, but I’m
sure her and Jake have plans…I’ll probably just grab a yogurt and eat it
alone…with some water…and maybe an old movie.”

He laughed, “Well I was going to go out, and have
dinner with a lot of people, but that sounds pitiful. I tell you what, to keep
you from being alone I’d be willing to stay in and cook.”

“You would turn down “a lot of people” for me?” I
said.

He turned serious as he said, “I’d turn down all of
the people for you.” I believed him.

I told him I would walk over, it was a beautiful
afternoon, albeit just a little cold. I went to my dorm first to shower off
quickly and change. I wanted to shave my legs…just in case. As the shower
warmed up, I sat down to go pee and the roof fell in.

It was hard, first of all. I felt like I had to go,
but it seemed like nothing would come out. I had already drunk five bottles of
water since waking up at Brock’s this morning, but I had been so preoccupied I
didn’t realize I hadn’t peed one time. I made a mental note to pay more
attention. Dr. Harris would be so disappointed. I sat there for a while,
finally giving up on it. When I stood up and looked down, what I saw in the
little hat wasn’t yellow. It was bright red.

“Shit!”

I have to admit, I considered just going to Brock’s
and not thinking about it until later. I may have too, but the left side of my
lower back started twisting into a spasm at that time, like it was egging me
on.

“Bastard kidney!” I said out loud.
 

I went out to where I had laid my phone and I called
Dr. Harris. He, of course, didn’t answer the phone, his nurse did. I began the
first of a hundred times I would have to tell the story over the next few
weeks. After I finished talking she said, “Molly, I’m calling him now, but I
think you should just get over here, okay? I know he’s going to want to see
you.” I sighed I wanted to go have dinner with Brock. He was going to turn down
“a lot of people” for me. I could feel the tears welling up. They weren’t
because I was sick, or scared, but because I just wanted to see him so bad.

“You don’t think it can wait until tomorrow?” I asked
her. “I’ll drink a lot of water, and come in first thing in the morning…”

“Molly,
hun
…you know how
serious this is.” She was using that tone that medical people use to guilt you
into taking care of yourself. I hated that tone. I wanted to scream. I wanted
to cry. I wanted to throw things. Instead, I took another deep breath to steady
myself and I said, “Okay, I’ll be there in a bit.” I hung up, wondering what I
should tell Brock. He knows about my diagnosis now. Should I tell him the
truth? I thought about the last two nights and how beautiful they were, how
normal. I finally gave in to the impulse to have a relationship with this
wonderful man. I didn’t want the cancer to be a part of that already. Was I
delusional, thinking that if I got involved with him, the cancer would never
come between us? Maybe a little bit, yes. I know Brock well enough now to
firmly believe in my heart that he wasn’t going to run away. But wasn’t that
another problem in and of itself? Now who was not being fair? He was an
amazing, young guy who was beating cancer. The last thing he needed was to be
dragged down by mine. I knew if I called him right now and told him what was
going on, he would be at my side in minutes. As warm and wonderful as that made
me
feel, I couldn’t do that to him. He deserved more.
I thought about the Barbie…Tammy. I bet she at least has two kidneys. After
all, there was no Transplant Barbie or Dialysis Barbie on the market.

I picked the phone back up and I called Brock. As soon
as he picked up the phone and said, “Hello, Beautiful,” I almost lost it.

I forced myself to suck it up and I said, “Hey! I have
bad news.”

“What happened?” I could hear the worry in his voice.
It tugged at my heart and proved my point that I couldn’t tell him what was
going on.