Read Choices Online

Authors: Sydney Lane

Choices (4 page)

 

Chapter 7

 

It’s only 10
:00am when Jenna jumps into bed with me. That is better then I expected. Last night, I was so tired I promised her all of the details if she’d just let me get some sleep. But I didn’t sleep well.

My mind was racing, and my body was restless. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw blue eyes staring back at me.
And I could imagine his leg between my thighs. I felt hot and uncomfortable, tossing and turning for hours. My body was hyper-sensitive, aware of every brush of the sheets across my skin. My body was craving something it had never had before. Now that it has been awakened, I’m not sure I can make it forget.

“Time to get up, Quince!
I’m ready for those details you promised.” She really has no shame.

I groan, “Jenna, can’t I even wake up first? I didn’t sleep well last night.”
It’s a stall tactic. I know it won’t work, but it’s worth trying.

“Oh, no.
You will not get off that easy. You go to the club with Sweet and Dreamy, but you dry hump Hot and Sexy. What the hell was up with that?” She is bouncing around like a four year old on the bed next to me.

“I don’t know what happe
ned. Declan is such a gentleman. He’s hot, and he probably would be good to me. But Brody? Brody is on fire. Declan makes me feel warm and fuzzy. Brody scorches me. What is wrong with me?” I have never had a steady boyfriend, have only kissed two guys…. But suddenly, I want so much more with someone I barely know.

“Baby girl, there is nothing wrong with you. Brody sets every girl’s panties on fire.
That messy, just-got-laid hair. Those deep blue, bedroom eyes. That sexy as hell tattoo. Oh yes, he is one fine specimen.” I’m trying to understand just what her point is.

“What the hell, Jenna? I don’t need you to remind me.”
Like I
could
forget. Her description is far better than mine.

“I’m just saying. It’s not you. It’s him.
He has that effect on every girl who looks at him. Just keep this in mind. You do not want to become one of those girls. You don’t want to waste something special on someone who may or may not appreciate it. I’ve been there, done that. I guess what I’m trying to say is that you are too special to be a notch on a bedpost. He’s hot, so hot that you might get burned.” I hate it when she’s right. When she puts it like that, I see how naive I’m being.

“You’re
right. Absolutely. What would a guy like Brody see in me? Declan, too, for that matter?” My insecurities seep in. The girls I’ve seen Brody with are nothing like me. I’m just Quincy Priest, no frills and no thrills.

“Oh, no you don’t! Quince, you are so beautiful, on the inside and out. You’ve lived through things I can only imagine. You held it together when most would have fallen apart. Any guy would be lucky to have you.” I know she means well, but she’s my friend. Of course she thinks I rock. “But Quince, you are inexperienced with guys like him. And don’t go thinking you aren’t good enough for him. He looks at you li
ke he’s been lost in the desert and you are a tall glass of water. All I’m saying is that you should take it slow. He and Declan are fraternity brothers. Did you know they even live together? That could get ugly real quick.”

I am shocked to hear
that they are roommates. How does she know that? “Jenna, I’m not even sure Declan will talk to me again. That was a kind of shitty thing I did.”

“Oh, I bet they both come crawling. Just be prepared when they do. Declan is completely smitten.
I think it’s kind of cute.” Did I mention that she might be delusional?

“So… enough about me.
What happened with you and Blondie?” I change the subject. I know she is dying to tell me all about last night.

“OK, so last night……” She begins telling me how he kissed her in the club and asked her to go out with him again. Soon enough, she has forgotten all about me and my issues.
I just wish I could.

After a shower and studying, we are watching TV when my phone rings. It’s Katie
. I take a deep breath and try to mentally prepare myself. I just never know which

Katie I’m going to get.
The one who laughs with me, talks like we’re old friends, and loves me like no other? Or the one who is manipulative, jealous, and cuts me in two with her words?

When you say bipolar disorder, people tend to think of mood swings. It used to be called manic depression, so that gives the impression that there is a clear break from one mood to the other.
They are either depressed or manic. That is an oversimplification and not totally accurate. Each of these manifests as different behaviors, depending on the person. And there isn’t always a clearly defined line when they go from one mood to the other. That line is often blurred and hazy, so it kind of sneaks up on you. The bite can really hurt.

When Katie is manic, she is impulsive
and manipulative. She likes to spend money, often ordering things off the internet or QVC. Things she cannot pay for. She is also the most dangerous to herself and others when she is manic. She sometimes hallucinates and becomes delusional and paranoid during these episodes, which can last for days at a time. If she doesn’t get her way or feels threatened, she can even become violent. She is also most likely to abuse drugs while she is manic. If you’ve told her a secret, she will tell it. It’s like all of her feelings and thoughts are magnified. When she is depressed, she sleeps most of the day. She calls me to discuss our childhood (when things were good) and seems genuinely interested in me and my life. She lures me in. And in some way, when she becomes manic, she will use every single word against me. I should have learned that lesson by now. But in those moments, I want so badly to have a true relationship with my sister. She knows just how to play me. I talk to her like a friend when she is depressed, and then she manipulates and accuses me of whatever delusional thoughts she has when she is manic.

Those mood swings, for me, are defined by her being the girl I know an
d love one moment and then becoming a complete stranger the next. I often wonder if the girl I grew up with is completely lost. I wonder if I’ll search for her the rest of my life.

“Hey,
whatcha been up to?” I ask, trying to sound cordial. My voice catches in my throat, and I breathe a little deeper.

“Nothing
, really. Just missing you. Mom says you are happy and like it there. I am really proud of you, Sis.” OK, so she’s normal today. I think.

“Yeah.
I like my classes. It’s great living with Jenna, and we’re having so much fun together.” I always measure my words before I say them. I never really know how she might interpret what I say. Just walking on eggshells.

“I’m glad. You’re getting to do things I probably never will.” She wants pity, but it’s hard. She chooses not to attend her counseling sessions. She also doesn’t t
ake her medication or takes too much of it. Bipolar is a disorder she has, but only she can decide if she lets it define who she is or not. That thought makes me feel guilty. For being normal.

“You know you could. You are so smart and talented. You know I would help you.” Katie is an artist. I can’t draw a stick man, but her paintings should be displayed in a
n art gallery, on display for collectors to buy and covet. She also writes beautiful poetry. Many bipolar patients are artistically inclined, and she is no exception.

“Yeah.
I might check into it sometime. Have you met any boys?” To tell or not to tell? That is the question.

“I have, but I’m not really dating yet.” I err on the side of caution.

“Well, I just called because I wondered when you were coming home. I miss you. I even
miss Jenna being around.” Jenna has been around so long, she is like a fixture at our house. I feel guilty because Jenna seems more like a sister to me than Katie is.

“I miss you, too. Maybe I’ll come home next weekend.” Suddenly, a trip home sounds nice.
I miss it more than I ever expected to.

“I’ll let you get back to your stuff. Talk to you later.” She sounds so sad. If she isn’t depressed
now, she will be. I can tell she’s on her way down.

“Love you. Bye.” With t
hat, I let out the breath I’ve been holding. That’s what it feels like to be held emotionally hostage by someone you love.

 

Chapter 8

 

I
have psych class three days a week. I haven’t heard from Declan since Saturday, so I am a little anxious to see how he will act when I see him today. I kind of liked sitting near the back so I could see everyone without looking like a stalker, so I take the same seat I had last week.

To my surprise, Declan and Eric start walking toward me when they come in. Declan sits next to me, with Eric on his other side.
I smile at them, and I hope this means everything is going to be OK. Declan leans toward me and says, “I couldn’t let the prettiest girl in class sit alone, now, could I?” My face gets warm, and I feel my pulse speed up.

“Really?
Then why aren’t you sitting with
her
?” I laugh, pointing to the perky blonde a few rows up. I’m joking, but there is a part of me that really does wonder if he is just playing with me.
I mean, the prettiest girl? Riiiiight.
No one has ever talked to me like that, much less meant it.


Because she’s sitting right here with me.” My heart melts just a little.

I’m wondering where Brody is when he walks through the door. He looks around
the room, and his face darkens into a scowl when he spots us. I know he isn’t happy with the change in seating arrangements. I hold my breath as he walks toward us. Will he sit next to me or Eric?

And he chooses…. Eric. I let o
ut the breath I was holding, but I don’t know if I am relieved or disappointed. Maybe I’m even a little angry. I want him to sit by me, to at least acknowledge my existence. He makes me feel things I don’t understand, but he doesn’t seem to be affected by me at all.

Throughout class, I try to steal peeks at Brody. He fidgets with his pen, and I see him scribble in his notebook here and there. For all intents and purposes, he doesn’t appear to be listening at all. I look down at
his hands, and I instantly remember them on my bare skin as we danced.

My face burns, and I suddenly have no idea what to do with my
own hands. I’m fidgeting as I remember his knee between my thighs, his hips pressing into me. I never knew I could feel like this. I am uncomfortable in my own skin. I peek at him again, and he’s watching me as my eyes travel up his body. I gasp and look away. I try to remind myself that he doesn’t want me.
This is only lust. I don’t have any real feelings for him
.

Declan is looking betw
een us, as if he’s trying to add a piece that won’t fit into a puzzle. If only I knew what the final picture would look like, maybe I could help him.

As class ends, I am in a hurry to get away. I quickly gather my things and shove them into my backpack. As I stand, Declan puts a hand on my arm to stop me. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

“I, um, I just wanted to go look over some notes for my next class. You know, to be prepared?” My voice hitches, and it comes out like a question.

“Hey, Jenna is meeting me for coffee in about
ten minutes. Want to go with us?” Eric unknowingly traps me. If I say no, it will be obvious that I am trying to avoid them. If I say yes, I will have to endure more uncomfortable glances and stilted conversation.

Brody makes my decision easy when he
declares that he has a test later on today and needs to go to the library to study. I try to peek up at him, but I’m afraid he’ll see relief written all over my face. He’s so distracting that I lose my ability to think cohesive thoughts and speak coherent sentences when he is around.

The boys say their goodbyes as we
walk out of class together. When we reach the door, Brody and I try to go through at the same time. Our arms brush against one another, and we jump apart. He steps behind me to allow me to go in front of him. So softly that I’m sure I imagine it, he whispers, “Beautiful.” I stumble but catch myself.
Did he say what I think he did?

Declan turns back and grasps my hand to pull me forward. He doesn’t let go as we start walking in one direction while Brody walks in the other. It’s such a sweet gesture, but I suddenly feel as if something (or someone) is missing.

It’s a wonderful day to be outside. My whole life, I’ve wanted to move away from home, but not once did I ever imagine leaving the South. The seasons will change soon, and it will be even more beautiful as the trees turn from green to different hues of yellow, red, orange, and brown. Here in Knoxville, we are close to the Smokey Mountains. There is nothing more breathtaking than the mountains in the Fall. Right now, it is so hot that no one wants to be outside for long. But that is the beauty of the South. It gives us something to look forward to. We experience all four seasons, and each is as beautiful as the next.

There is an old cliché about Southern hospitality. Around here, it isn’
t just a myth. It’s reality. Even in the bigger cities, you still experience the “hometown” atmosphere. Everyone speaks or throws a hand up as you pass by. Young people hold the doors open for the elderly. Kids treat their elders with respect while earning respect in return.

People
talk a little different down South. We tend to speak a little slower and twangier than the rest of the country. Some say we sound uneducated. I like to say we just think before we speak. Once you say something, you can’t take it back.

As we walk, Declan t
urns to me and asks, “So, Quincy. What do you think about it? Wanna go?” I have been so lost in thought that I have no idea what he’s asking. Silently, I just nod my head.
What did I just agree to?

I see Jenn
a standing just inside Starbucks. She looks nervous as she fidgets with her hands and looks around. I’m not used to seeing Jenna like this, but I have an idea what it means. When we walk in, she looks relieved to see me. Looks like I’m not the only one in foreign territory here.

“We picked up a stray on the way over,” Eric jokes. Jenna’
s eyes shine brighter, and her face looks like it might split open. I see nothing but pure adoration on her face, and even though I’m happy for her, I wish I knew exactly what I wanted, too.

“I claim her most of the time.” Jenna plays along. “So, you guys want to g
et something to eat or drink?”

“I’m just
going to get a water. It’s so warm outside, I can’t imagine drinking anything hot.” I’m not much of a coffee drinker anyway. I know most of my friends can’t live without it, but I have never enjoyed the smell or taste of it.

We
place our orders and claim a table in the corner. “We were talking about going to a bonfire this weekend. It’s a fraternity tradition. Quincy already said she would come, so now you’ll have to go, too.” Declan looks proud of himself. And I finally know what I agreed to earlier. Honestly, I’m relieved that’s all it is.

As the guys take turns telling us about their annual bonfire, I study Declan. He is so handsome, in a classic kind of way. His short, buzzed hair loo
ks so soft, I’d like to run my hand over it. His eyes are very dark, but they seem to change color when the light hits them just right. Chocolate to espresso back to chocolate. He is so sweet and attractive that any girl would be lucky to have him.
I would be lucky to have him.

I have a job interview, so I say my goodbyes and get up to leav
e. Declan stops me, “Hey, Quincy, would you like to watch a movie tonight or sometime?” For just a second, he looks as if he thinks I might say no.

“Sure. When and where?” I smile to myself. It just feels so normal to be standing here with him, making plans to see him later.

“Um, I live at the fraternity house, so we’d have to watch the movie in my room. Is that OK with you?” That means Brody must also live in the fraternity house. Being in Declan’s room may not be a bad thing. I’m not sure if I want to run into Brody again today.

“I don’t know. I’m n
ot sure I can trust you,” I joke. But I really do trust him. I like to think I can read people pretty well, and there are no red flags here.

“Come over
around 7:00, and I’ll try not to lock you in my closet.” It is so easy to joke and laugh with him.

With ou
r plans made, I walk away, wondering if tonight will be considered a date. I decide it doesn’t matter. I’m just happy about the way the day is turning out.

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