Indisputable (21 page)

“Sweetheart—ˮ

“I
saw
the look on your face.  You’re
disgusted with me.  Now, I’m just so fucking angry because I went home and
tried to erase your disgust from my memory, and I
can’t
do it anymore!
It’s wrong.
I’m
wrong.”  My body shakes from tremors running
through my limbs.  Maybe if I wasn’t paying so much attention to myself,
always myself and my problems, I would have registered the shift in the
room. 

The air becomes tense, and Jacoby’s body stands as
taut as a bowstring pulled to let an arrow fly.

“You wanna back that up a second and explain?” he
asks, his voice coming out clipped and angry.  His tone takes me by
surprise, and I find myself taking a step back towards the bed.

“What do you mean?” I ask, my voice trembling. 
Jacoby looks downright furious.  Furious like I’ve never seen him
before.  This isn’t the kind of anger I can jump into his arms and kiss
him senseless to erase.  This fury is borderline violent, and it terrifies
me.

He takes a slow, restrained step forward, his long
legs placing him smack dab in my space. 

“Maybe you should explain the part where you went
home.  After you left my fucking bed.  After you let me
fuck you
in my bed.  And you went home to fucking mutilate yourself?  Because
of
me?
”

Oh, God.  Shit.  That’s exactly how I made
it sound.  I fled from his house without waking him, and the first thing I
did when I got home was hop into the shower and try to vent in the only way I
know how.  But it wasn’t because of him.  He has the wrong
idea.  An idea I put there, but unintentionally. 

“Jacoby, no.  You have it wrong.”

“Damn fucking right.  I do have it wrong. 
What I have wrong is that I ever thought you’d be worth everything.” 

He walks to the door in three steps, yanking it open
so hard it bangs against the wall with a loud crash.

“Please wait—ˮ

Jacoby turns around and pins me with his furious
gaze.  I’m frozen to the spot.  When it comes to fight or flight,
apparently I can’t do either. 

“No.  Listen up, and listen fucking good. 
The other night, I wanted to talk.  I saw what you did to yourself, and my
only thought was how I could help you.  I spent three goddamned days
trying to get you to talk to me so I could help you.  I made arrangements
as soon as I got your text and practically ran here so I could be here for
you.”  I remain frozen as he lifts his hand extending his pointer and
pinky finger in my direction, all while keeping his eyes pinned to mine. 
“But you will not. fucking. pin. that shit on me.  I’m done.  You
need resources to get yourself help, I got ‘em.  But I will not waste my
time with you so you can blame me while you cut yourself.  Fuck!” 

With his curse word still hanging in the air, Jacoby
runs his hands through his hair before he storms out the door.

And I promptly burst into tears and crumble to the
floor, his voice echoing in my head. 

“
Everything.”

Jacoby

“Dude, what’s gotten into you today?  You’re
lifting like you’ve never been in a gym before.  If anyone here knew we
were friends, they’d boycott the place, you sissy.” 

Trey’s teasing voice breaks into the epic staring
contest I was having with myself in the mirror.  How long had I been zoned
out for?  Leaning over, I drop the dumbbell I was holding onto the rubber
floor.  Fuck, I’m a mess.

“Fuck off, man.  It’s been a rough week.” 
He doesn’t have a comeback, so I scoop my water bottle off the floor and take a
huge swig.  I don’t know why I do it.  It’s not like I was actually
doing any work.  My tee is still dry, and I’ve been here an hour. 
Turning to find Trey, I narrow my eyes at the way he’s staring at me. 

“What?”

Trey jerks his head in the direction of his
office.  “Let’s go have a chat.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“I think there is,” he fires back.

“So talk,” I invite.  “What’s with all the damn
secrecy?”

“It’s not me who needs secrecy.” 

I’m not entirely sure what he means by that but the
words rub me the wrong way.  My hands immediately clench into fists. 
“What the fuck, man?  Spit it out.” 

I don’t have time for this.  Even though I got up
extra early to spend time working off my aggression before spending yet another
day at school, already an hour has ticked by.  I only have thirty more
minutes before I have to be there.  That includes a shower and drive time,
not to mention some breakfast would probably do me some good.

“You wanna discuss your situation with Tatum in the
middle of a crowded gym?  Fine.” 

“Okay, fine.  Fuck.  Lead the way.”  No
way in hell am I doing
that
out here.

We walk down a brightly lit hall to the back office
I’ve seen a million times.  I’d helped him the past two years with
paperwork and shit before I landed the teaching job.  Entering the small
office, Trey closes the door for privacy.  Too bad shutting the door can’t
erase the pungent smell of rubber and sweat loitering in the air.

“Okay, now talk,” I command, harsher than intended,
but this topic has me feeling all sorts of rage. 

It’s been two weeks since I walked out of that hotel
room.  Two weeks of torture, of questioning my decisions.  Two weeks
of staring at my cell, willing it to ring and fighting back the urge to reach
out to her.  Two miserable weeks of watching her walk down the halls and
sit in my classroom.  So close, yet so out of my reach.    

But that’s not the worst of it.

The worst of it is, I feel a loss I haven’t felt in
two years.  And that every day I see her, she looks as miserable as I
feel. 

I remain standing while Trey sits his ass on the
corner of his desk.  And I wait.

“You wanna tell me what’s been going on?”

“Not really.”

“Too fuckin’ bad.  One minute you’re crazy over
this girl, the next you’re acting like she died.”

“Trey.” My voice holds a warning I know he can
hear.  He just shakes his head at me before continuing his train of thought.

“I know that was harsh, man, but listen to me.  I
haven’t seen you this depressed since you showed up here two years ago. 
That’s how you look right now.  It’s like a damn flashback.”

“I do not look that bad.”

“Really? When was the last time you got a decent
night’s sleep?  You look like shit.”

I scrub my palms over my face.  Shit, he’s
right.  I haven’t slept well in two weeks.

“Whatever.  Is that all you wanted to say?”

“Talk to me!  You’re like my goddamned
brother.  I know this sounds like some girly shit, but I’m
concerned.  What’s going on?”

My heart starts beating so hard it’s slamming around
my ribs like a tennis ball.  Vomit crawls up the back of my throat, and I
swallow hard to choke it down.  I wish I hadn’t been such an
asshole.  I wish it wasn’t so hard to find the girl I want and take
her—make her mine.  But that’s the thing about wishes, they always come in
these fleeting moments.  A shooting star, a blowing dandelion, birthday
candles, 11:11.  Wishes should be long lasting, not a spur of the moment
request.  Why don’t we wish on rocks?  They never die.  Maybe
more wishes would come true if we could hold the object we wished on forever.

“What’s going on is that I’m in love with her!” 
The hoarseness of my voice shocks the hell out of me. Trey, too.  At least
for a moment before he shakes it off.

“So what’s the problem?  Last we talked about
this, I thought a decision had been made.  What happened?”

“I left her.  I can’t—she has some problems, and
they scared the hell out of me.  I got angry, and I left.  We haven’t
talked since.”

“What kind of problems,” Trey asks, genuine concern
dripping from his tone. 

I scrub my hand over my eyes.  I shouldn’t tell
him.  Fuck, it’s not my place, but I don’t know how to handle this. 
I need advice.  I thought I could walk away, but the past two weeks have
shown me that I can’t.

“She—fuck.  I don’t know how to say this. 
She hurts herself, man.”  Saying those words aloud chokes me up, and I
want to throttle something.  It hurts like a physical pain in my chest. 
I’ve been carrying it around for two weeks.  Every time I think of her
wrists, it’s like a knife plunging into the space between my ribs.

“What do you mean she hurts herself,” he asks
cautiously.

“I mean she’s a cutter.  Fuck.  I don’t
think she’s suicidal, but what do I know?  We hadn’t had a chance to talk
about it before I walked out on her.”

When I look over at Trey, I’m surprised to see how
upset he looks.  His hands are clenched into fists by his sides, and
there’s a muscle jumping in his tightly clenched jaw.  I don’t know why,
but the topic has hit a nerve with him.

“Don’t leave her like that, man.  You find
something like that out, you don’t fucking leave her.”

“I messed up.  I don’t know how to fix it.”

Trey crosses the small space to sit on one of the
padded chairs.  “When did this happen?”

“About two weeks ago.”

“
Two
weeks
? Christ, no wonder you look
like shit.”

“Can you stop saying that?  It’s really not
helping,” I grumble, causing Trey to crack a grin.

“Did I bruise your ego?”

“Yes,” I deadpan. 

Trey laughs, somehow managing to lighten the heavy
mood.  “Dude, you are so fucked!”

“What?”

“You have it bad.  So what are you waiting
for?  Go get your girl.”

I slowly shake my head feeling defeated.  “I
don’t think I can.”

“For fuck’s sake, why not?” he asks, crossing his arms
over his sweaty chest.  Unlike me, Trey actually did a hard workout this
morning.

God, this is going to make me sound like a
pussy.  But Trey’s right, if anyone is like family to me, it’s him.

“I don’t think I can be what she needs.”  Trey
begins to interrupt so I put up my hand to stop him.  “Hear me out.”

He puts his hand up in a gesture for me to get on with
it.  I can tell he’s becoming impatient.  The world is so black and
white to Trey.  But my world has never been anything less than a huge
cloud of gray.

“Even if we can get past the issue of her being my
student, which is only a few more weeks from now, she still has problems. 
I’m not saying that to be a dick, I’m saying it because I have my own issues
too.  You know that, better than anybody.  How can I help her work
through her shit if I can’t see my way through my own?”  I sigh, letting
the silence linger so Trey knows he’s free to talk.  There isn’t much more
for me to say.  I laid it all out there, and now I feel bare.

“Are you listening to yourself?  What issues do
you have?  Because to me, it sounds like your only issues are those that
deal with her.  Not once in this conversation have you brought up the past
as being a problem.  Your problem is that you’re in love with a girl, and
you let her go.  So get off your ass and fucking get her.  Stop
thinking so damn hard, you’ll give yourself an aneurysm.”

Well that’s a huge dose of clarity if I’ve ever had
one.  It’s like he just whacked me upside the head with a two-by-four of
truth.  

I’m silent for a moment while I think, and realize
Trey’s right.  Several weeks have passed since I last sat and thought
entirely about Harper.  Since I felt a crushing weight of guilt at the
slightest thought of her.  Even the random phone calls from Brent don’t
carry the same heaviness they first did a few months ago. 

Scrubbing my forehead, I sigh.  “It’s because of
Tatum.”

“What?” Trey asks quietly.

“Almost immediately after I began to focus on Tatum, I
started to feel less guilty about Harper.  That weekend, where we met you
at the bar, was a rough one.  I couldn’t help thinking of all the ways I
failed Harper and how I was no good for Tatum.  How I’d eventually let her
down too.  But when I think about it, it’s almost like that got Harper out
of my system.  All my energy has been focused on one person over the past
several weeks.”

The trademark, carefree grin spreads across Trey’s
face.  “What’d I tell you, man?”

“You gloat, I’m gonna kick your ass.  Besides,
this isn’t over yet.  I have some things to take care of before I talk to
Tatum.  Loose ends to tie up.”

Trey stands and walks to the office door, opening
it.  We both step into the hallway and walk towards the entrance. 
“Don’t take too long.  She doesn’t seem like a patient girl if I remember
correctly.” 

Faster than I knew I was capable, I turn and slug Trey
in the shoulder.

“Dude!” he cries. 

“Don’t ever think about kissing her again,” I hiss
through clenched teeth.  Trey bursts out in a laughing fit, bent double
and clutching his abdomen. 

“You’ve got it so bad!” he replies laughing the entire
time. 

“I mean it.”

Trey lifts two fingers in the air.  “Boy scouts
promise.”

“Fuck off.  You weren’t a Boy scout.”

“I know,” Trey replies with a wink. 

I’m about to punch him again when we’ve reached the
entrance, and the door is propped open by none other than Tatum.  My heart
clenches at the sight of her.  She looks utterly exhausted and worn. 
Her hair is tied on the top of her head in a loose bun, tendrils floating
around her face and neck.  She has some purplish spots beneath her eyes,
and her skin just looks dull.  She doesn’t look quite ill but she
looks…off.  I don’t like it.  This is my fault, and I’m going to do
everything I can to fix it.  I just need a little bit more time.

“Uh, hey, Tatum,” Trey greets, his cheery welcoming
falling just this short of genuine.  It’s obvious he’s feeling the tension
between us and doesn’t know how to
react.       

“Hey,” she replies while looking at her feet.  Christ,
she’s cute.  I’d give just about anything to tilt her chin up, kiss the
tip of her nose, and do something to make her grin.  The tiredness in her
features is tying my stomach in knots.  I need to sort my shit, then I can
sort out us.

“You looking for me?” I ask, rather stupidly. 
Who else would she be here to see? 

Tatum fidgets with her black wristband on her left arm
causing my eyes to zero in on the dark piece of fabric.  Are there more
cuts hiding underneath there since the last time I saw them?  The thought
of her hurting herself again makes me physically sick.  Shit, I haven’t
been there for her.  What if she needed me?   

“Actually,” she begins, cutting off my train of
thought, and my eyes snap from her wrist to her face.  “I’m here to see Trey.” 
She fidgets from foot to foot as though she’s nervous.  What the fuck.

My eyes flicker over to Trey, and a vein of relief
slithers through me that he seems as equally perplexed as I do.  He
doesn’t know why Tatum is here.  I can end any suspicions of him
backstabbing me before they take flight. 

But then why is she here?

“Uh, sure.  You takin’ me up on my offer to work
out?” Trey jokes lightly, attempting to ease the heavy atmosphere.

“Not exactly.  Um, can we, uh, talk in private?”

Fuck. Me.

My eyes snap back to Trey’s, and he gives me a minute
shake of his head and a shrug of his shoulders.  If I didn’t already trust
the guy with my life, I’d think he was up to something behind my back. 
But he wouldn’t betray me. 

Which leaves me with…

Is she trying to betray me?

“Yo, Jacoby.”

“Uh, what?”  Once again my thoughts of betrayal
are obliterated by Trey.

“I was just saying I’ll take Tatum to my office and
catch up with you later.  You have those things to deal with.”

Taking the hint, I reply, “Oh yeah, right.  I’ll
catch up with you later, man.”  He nods at me, and I make my way to the
door, passing Tatum in the entry.