Into the Tomorrows (Bleeding Hearts Book 1) (14 page)

“No. Look. You are the same size as me. And I’m sure as shit going to have another root beer if I want another damn root beer.” She was several inches taller than me in the mirror, which made me want to shrink in my skin even further. “And you’ve got this kick ass new hair color and style and big, deep blue eyes and a mouth that looks like you’re on the verge of pouting.”

I laughed at that. “Really? That doesn’t sound very complimentary.”

“Come on, you’ve got all this mystery around you. Your eyes, man, there’s something in them—something that makes you want to hear what you have to say. But then you just don’t say anything. It’s like you’re full of secrets that you can’t speak, but you wear them on your face anyway.”

I’d never felt more naked in my life and pulled away from the mirror, looking first at the taupe carpet and then up at Mila. “I don’t have a lot of secrets.”

“You have enough to keep people wondering.”

A shot rang out on the television and startled us both.

“When I first met you in the kitchen last week, I thought…” she paused a moment and seemed to be really careful of what she wanted to say, “I thought you looked hungry.”

“Well, Jude was making bacon.” A smile teased one side of my lips and she returned my smile.

“That’s not what I meant. But yeah, bacon.”

“I’m not sure what you want me to say,” I replied honestly.

“You don’t have to. But I think you’re hungry for something … just not sure what that something is just yet.” She opened her bedroom door. “But I’m going to grab me a root beer. You want one?”

I waited a second before nodding. I knew Mila was trying to make me see the Trista she saw, but I couldn’t look in a mirror and change my mind based on what someone else said.

I climbed back onto the bed and popped another bite of ice cream into my mouth, deciding to, at least tonight, not worry about the calories.

A knock on the door had me lifting my head, meeting Jude’s eyes.

“Hey,” he said in his soft voice. “I like your hair.”

A blush began warming my face and I self-consciously tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “Thanks. It’s different.”

“But a good different. The purple,” he motioned to his own head in the place that the purple peeked through on mine, “it’s like those flowers.”

The fact that he remembered such a blip of a moment in the mountains made my throat go dry. All I could do was nod in return.

He opened his mouth to say something else, but Mila pushed past him, interrupting whatever it was. I found myself wishing she’d taken a few seconds longer, just so I could hear what it was he wanted to say.

“Hey big brother. What news of the motherland?” She joined me on the bed and handed me a can of root beer.

“Mom and dad are good. They want us to visit them soon.” He smiled at me and then turned back to Mila. “I have some things I need you to do for the site.” He gave her the slip of paper.

Mila shook open the folded list and scrutinized it. “Jude Isaiah Sommers!” She exclaimed, pointing at the list. “This is going to take me all damn day!” She sighed, folding it back up. “When do you need it by?”

Jude looked a little sheepish when he replied, “This week?”

“Ugh,” she groaned, dropping the list on the bed. “Eventually, you’re going to have actually hire a website lackey.”

“Eventually you’re going to have to earn your keep for all the trips I bring you on.” He smiled at her, because his tone was teasing.

“Speaking of which, Trista is going with you to Wyoming next week.”

The air was sucked from the room, or maybe just my lungs. It was completely silent for the longest three seconds of my life. I hadn’t talked to Colin. I hadn’t even agreed, really. But I found myself watching Jude’s face for a reaction.

He blinked at Mila a few times before he turned to me. “Miss it already?”

My throat was drier than the Sahara at the way he said that, all low like a rumble in a storm. “Miss what?”

“Wyoming?”

Once again, heat climbed my face and I wished for a way to hide my face. “Oh. No. I just…” didn’t know what to say, I said in my head.

“Remember that call I told you I signed up for?” Mila barreled on, causing Jude to turn to her again. “I got a call back. And with a smaller production like this one, that’s a good sign.”

“Okay…”

Shit. Jude sounded as uncertain as I felt. “It’s okay,” I said, already trying to mentally power walk my way out of the trip. “I haven’t talked to Colin about it and I don’t have to go or anything. I…” I couldn’t seem to finish my damn sentences in my haste to get out of the trip Mila was shoving me into.

“I’m sure Colin will be fine,” Mila said with a shrug of her shoulders. “He’ll probably go for a long weekend hike anyway. And he said you didn’t really enjoy that last time.”

Something slithered underneath my skin then, right between my ribs. I had never said that, nor had I felt it. Unwittingly, my eyes found Jude who was watching me closely. Why was Colin telling Mila that? And did Colin actually believe it?

Even though the silence stretched long among us, I had thoughts to consider. If anything, Mila telling me that Colin thought I hated hiking with him and his friends only made me more determined to prove him wrong. One trip up the mountain hadn’t made me averse to the idea at all. Which meant the prospect of going to Wyoming, to Yellowstone, all that more appealing.

“Let her sleep on it,” Jude said softly, leaving the decision in my hands. “I could use a hand,” he joked, motioning to his bad arm. “If nothing else but to help with my camera gear.”

“Okay,” I agreed. “I’ll sleep on it.”

Jude smiled reassuringly and I tried not to let that small movement affect me, but it was near impossible. Having someone smile at me like that, paying attention to the little things I felt and thought was unnerving, but in a delicious, addicting way. In a terrible, horrible, selfish way.

“But the real reason I came in here is because I need these done,” he said, pointing to the list and turning his attention to Mila. “Can you do them this week?”

Mila groaned, popped a bite of ice cream into her mouth and ignored the list. “I have class all week.”

“You’re not in class,” Jude reminded her with a slight roll of his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Easy for you to say,” Mila grunted around a mouthful of ice cream. “You don’t have to do it.”

I almost didn’t say anything, but because I was curious, I spoke up. “I could help you, if you want.”

Mila looked at me, then to Jude, and then back at me. “You know how to design a website?”

“Well,” I picked up the list, looked through everything. “I studied it a little in college and was eventually going to take a couple classes for it again. And this looks pretty elementary, depending on your host.” I looked between Jude and Mila. “I don’t want to intrude. But if you’re busy,” I said to Mila, “I could see what I could do.”

“Consider me busy for the rest of my life,” Mila said with an exaggerated jut of her jaw. “There’s not a whole lot in this world that I hate more than staring at code for hours on end, waiting for all the symbols to make sense.”

“If you can help, I can pay you.” Jude shoved his hands in his pockets as he looked at me. I tried to pretend I didn’t notice the way all my senses became hyperaware around him.

“You have to pay her in actual money, Jude,” Mila said, slightly admonishingly. “Not pizza or beer.”

“Do you like pizza?” he asked, turning from Mila and smiling at me.

Two pairs of identical eyes were on me. “I love pizza.”

“What kind of toppings?” Jude asked, and I wondered why he was asking, unless he was really planning on paying me in pizza.

“Olives. Just olives.”

Mila scrunched up her nose and shook her head. “Gross.” She pointed a finger at Jude, “I’m serious. Pizza and beer works for me, but only because we shared a womb for the better part of eight months.” She hooked a thumb toward me. “But Trista owes you nothing.”

“Well, you don’t need to pay me,” I said softly. “Maybe I won’t even do a good job.”

“Don’t even try to back out now,” Mila warned, holding a finger up in mock seriousness. “You gave me an out and I’m already halfway down the block.”

“I usually pay Mila in trips—”

“—and pizza and beer,” Mila butted in.

“So how would you like to be reimbursed?” he finished.

I wasn’t sure how to answer—because the idea of going to Yellowstone with Jude was an exciting and scary prospect. I wasn’t sure if Colin would even be alright with me going. And, I wasn’t sure how much website managers were paid, so I couldn’t say anything, really.

Mila threw out a number that was double what I made hourly at the pet store and Jude nodded right away, as if it was no problem at all. “Seriously, Jude? You wouldn’t pay me that when I asked!” Mila exclaimed.

Jude shrugged, looked at me and then looked at the ground. We were both so quiet that I could hear Mila swishing her head back and forth between us. Finally, blessedly, he broke the silence, “We shared a womb, remember?”

“I see how it is,” Mila said, her tone accusing. I looked away from Jude to look back at the list. The silence between us all was heavy, and I could feel it pressing in on me, harder and harder.

“What did your doctor say?” I asked, wanting to break the tension and change the subject, because it made me feel strange—all prickly and wound up. I lifted my head and looked up at Jude from between the hairs that had fallen over my face.

“Oh yeah, it was your appointment today, wasn’t it?” Mila added.

Jude braced his hands at the foot of the bed. It was easy to forget he had even had an injury, because he was walking around like nothing pained him. “I’ll need surgery, but we’re going to try physical therapy first—at least for a while.”

“More surgery,” Mila said on a sigh that sounded sad. I looked at her quizzically but she didn’t look at me. When I turned back to Jude, he was looking at Mila with what I could only assume was a look meant to communicate something that wasn’t for my ears.

“It’s fine,” he said and stood, seeming eager to change the topic. “I just have to take it easy.”

Mila snorted. “Yeah, like that’ll ever happen.”

Jude’s grin was easy and the tension I’d gotten a glimpse of left his face.

“You’ll forever be a boy who climbs mountains.” Mila sounded mildly exasperated as she used her spoon to dig into the tub of ice cream and blew the bangs from her face as she popped a chunk of ice cream into her mouth.

“Yup.” Jude reached forward, grabbed a spoon—my spoon—and dug out a chunk of ice cream. As he put the spoon in his mouth, all I could think was: my spoon, my spoon, my spoon.

“That’s Trista’s spoon, you jerk.” She wrenched it from him and handed it to me. All I could do was stare at the smile that formed on his lips—there was more in that smile than just humor.

“Then it’s settled,” Jude said, swallowing as he smiled. I couldn’t help smiling back. “Are you busy tomorrow? I can walk you through everything and we can discuss the list?”

“Sure,” I said, thinking just how unsure I actually was about spending time with Jude.

T
he music was so
loud that I was waiting for the neighbors to tattle on us to the landlords. More than once, I’d gritted my teeth and held onto the textured wall, feeling the beat beneath my fingers as it reverberated through the apartment.

I’d taken a nap and had shot out of bed at the sound of very loud music and laughter. After stumbling, bleary-eyed, into the living room, I’d nearly fallen over a stranger.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, moving my hands to smooth my hair.

“No worries,” he’d replied, taking me in a moment before turning from me to the handful of people that surrounded him.

I’d blinked, feeling that cloud of sleep still lingering behind my eyes. But I couldn’t see a single face I recognized. I moved between the bodies, my anxiety rising as I tried not to get stuck among the many moving bodies. I had a thought that the floor would open up under all that weight and swallow us. But the bass kept pumping and the laughter ensued and my head pounded loudest of all.

After making my way around a makeshift beer pong table set up between the couch and the countertop in the kitchen, I finally saw Colin.

He was leaning against a fridge, red cup in one hand and cigarette in the other. I blinked a few times at the sight, trying to reconcile what I was seeing with what I knew about Colin. When he saw me, his eyes lost some of the shine they’d held while talking to the people around him. I watched as he subtly lowered both the cup and cigarette before they disappeared from my sight.

I pushed through the throng of people at the opening of the kitchen, until I was right in front of Colin. The thing about cigarette smoke is that it’s not easily hidden when you’re not used to it. And Colin reeked of smoke.

“Trista. There’s my girl,” he said with a false sounding happiness to his voice. I raised an eyebrow but was pulled into his side, into the stench of beer and smoke and a Colin I didn’t know. “I was wondering when you’d wake up.”

I glanced at the people—a woman and a man—in front of Colin and watched as they took me in, their gazes gliding over my sweats and messy hair. “You’re having a party?” I said to Colin softly, quiet enough that only he could hear.

“Yeah, for you. You know, a kind of introduction to Colorado and all. It’s great, right?”

His smile felt strained and his grip was loose around my waist—casual-like and I gave him a questioning look.

“Well, if you hadn’t slept so late you could’ve met everyone.” The hand on my waist dropped and I watched as he put the cup in his other hand on top of the fridge and then smiled at the people.

I waited for him to say something, to introduce me to the people he was talking to and when he didn’t, I reached my own hand out. “Hi, I’m Trista.”

“I know,” the woman said, her blonde hair braided into pigtails. “I’m Becky. This is Jim.” She hooked a thumb at the man beside her. “How do you know Colin?”

I laughed, surprising myself. “Colin’s girlfriend.” I gave her a plastic smile and turned to Colin. “What do you have to drink?” I wasn’t much of a drinker, but I knew I’d need to get something in me to calm the anxiety I had. The last time I’d been to a party this large had been on my last night with Ellie.

“Beer.” He opened the fridge, pointed to the handful of bottles lined up on the top row.

“Perfect.” I swiped one and popped the cap before taking a big swig.

Looking over the party, I saw Mila over by the beer pong table, doing a dance in a circle. Without a second word to Colin, I made my way toward her as she twisted and spun. Black hair twirled around her with each spin, and I instantly was reminded of Ellie.

“Hey,” I said when I was close enough for her to hear me over the music.

“Trista!” She looped an arm around my neck and pulled me close to her. “I’m sorry, I’ve had a lot to drink.”

I could tell from how liquidly her body moved, but unlike Colin she didn’t reek of the alcohol. “Are these your friends?” I asked, my head practically pressed against hers so that she could hear me.

“No, well, I mean,” she waved a hand around in a loose circle, “they’re Colin’s friends but I know them too. We all run in the same circles, you know?”

I nodded, even though I didn’t know. Part of me longed to be as free and confident as Mila was. She wasn’t watching anyone else, gauging their reactions to how she moved so fluid and unashamed to the music. “I didn’t know Colin was throwing a party.”

“Neither did he until earlier,” she said, hand clamped on my shoulder and lips on my ear. “But you know how Colin is, he’s pretty spontaneous.”

I didn’t know Colin as well as I had. And I wondered if he looked at me the way I looked at him; if he looked at me and saw confusion.

“You look like you need a shot,” she said with a press of her finger to my chest. “Whatcha like?”

“Anything will do at this point,” I said, and she picked up a blue bottle from the table, pouring it into a new red cup and handing it to me.

“Drink it fast—don’t sip.”

I tossed it back, feeling like I could breathe fire only a second later. The cool liquid blazed a path all the way to my belly and I resisted coughing in case I started vomiting.

“It’s good, yeah?”

I nodded because it was easier than yelling over the music. Someone pushed into me from behind which caused me to fall against Mila, spilling my beer over both of us.

“Wow, one shot and you’re already committing alcohol abuse,” she said with a laugh, holding her wet tee away from her body. “Come on, let’s get changed.”

Before I could say anything, she was dragging me into her bedroom and slamming the door.

“You okay?” she asked, suddenly seeming much more sober than she had out in the living room.

Startled, I gripped the hem of my shirt in my hands. “I’m okay.”

“Good.” She opened up her closet and threw out a couple shirts. “Here, wear something.”

“I have shirts just down the hall…” I pointed toward the door but she shook her head.

“You don’t have anything that says ‘I’m here to party.’”

“Because I’m not here to party,” I replied with a shrug. “I was napping.”

“I know; that’s what your clothes and hair say.” She plucked a navy blue v-neck tank from the pile she’d thrown onto the bed and handed it to me. “Here. This is still casual enough that people won’t notice your sweats.”

I wasn’t sure if Mila was insulting me or if she was looking out for my appearance, but I did as she suggested anyway, yanking my shirt up over my head and trying not to feel self-conscious in just my bra and pants. She wasn’t paying attention, however, and was already sliding on a black t-shirt herself.

The blue v-neck had braided straps and was clingy in a way that I wasn’t used to. I placed a hand over my stomach and said, “I don’t think I can wear this.”

“Trista, you look good.” She pulled my arm away and pushed me in front of her mirror. “Your sweats are fine, but you’re hiding this.” She moved her hand along the side of my body, and I watched her path with my face growing warmer and warmer. For years, I’d worn a variety of elastic-waisted clothing, like sweats and yoga pants, to avoid this kind of clinginess. She smoothed her hands over my hair.

“It’s too revealing,” I protested lightly, reaching to tug it off already.

“No it’s not!” she exclaimed. She placed her hands on my shoulders, stopping me from ripping it off. “Trista,” she said calmly, “you are beautiful. Stop hiding it.” She pointed outside of her door. “Even with bed head, did you see the way those guys were looking at you?”

I thought it odd that she said that, when no, I didn’t notice.

“Wake up, girlfriend. You look like Grace Kelly—all feminine and fresh, like you don’t ever need makeup.”

“I don’t wear makeup.”

“I know. You don’t need to.” She slapped my hands from the hem and pushed me onto her bed behind me, so she could finger-comb my hair. “Colin threw you this party, impromptu as it was. So go out there and own it. Own you.”

I eyed her curiously. Did she really think Colin threw the party for
me
? Because as far as I could tell, Colin was happier when he didn’t have me at his side. But it seemed important for Mila in some way so I did as she told me, letting her brush at my hair and put a little mascara on my lashes.

When I rejoined the party, Colin was taking shots at the dining table and the memory of him telling me he didn’t drink filtered through my thoughts. I walked around the clusters of people, grabbed another beer from the fridge and let it wash down my throat, carrying everything that I wouldn’t say to Colin with it.

After my third beer and ten minutes in the corner of the kitchen, the recipient of enough leering looks to make my stomach churn, I decided I needed air. The music was beating harder it seemed, unless that was my imagination. But it was pressing hard against my skull, crushing me with the reminder of that one June night years before. I could feel the memory of holding her hand in mine, laying on the cold floor and staring at her face as tears trickled down my own, pooling beneath my cheek.

And I remembered when the paramedics had come and someone had slid me across the floor, pulling me from Ellie, I’d finally opened my mouth in protest.

My stomach hurt from that slow motion memory and I pushed out onto the deck and sucked in the air.

Surprisingly, I was completely alone on the deck. The sun had long set over the mountain so the sky was bathed in black. Without a second thought, I pushed one of the chairs up against the siding and climbed onto the roof with one hand while my other held my beer.

“Hello.”

His voice was warm and caused a low flutter in my belly as I climbed the angle to the top where Jude sat, his bad arm in his lap and his other braced behind him.

“Hi, Jude.” I plopped next to him and let out a sigh I didn’t know I’d suppressed.

“Some party.” He lifted something to his lips, but it was so dark that I couldn’t make out what he was drinking.

“I’m surprised the neighbors haven’t called the cops,” I said, remembering all the parties I’d gone to in college, and how at least half of them had been broken up by the police.

“Colin usually bribes the neighbors with free beer. This building is mostly college kids anyway.”

“Colin isn’t in college anymore.”

Jude shook his head. “Do you not enjoy parties?”

“No.” I said it more firmly than I’d intended. “They’re not my thing.”

“Then why would Colin throw you one?”

“Because they’re
his
thing.”

“You didn’t hesitate. You answered that without trying to lie to me first.”

My cheeks grew warm. “I don’t lie all the time.”

“Just mostly about the important stuff.”

I shrugged, sipped my beer and laid back on the roof. “It’s exhausting to tell the truth all the time.”

He was silent, the only sounds our breathing and the music that spilled out onto the deck from the door I’d left open.

I rolled my head to the side, feeling looser from the fact that I could finally breathe and that I was feeling a buzz. “What are you drinking?”

“Chocolate milk.”

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack.” His voice was dry. I watched him put the cup to his lips and the curve of his throat as he swallowed.

“Why no booze?”

“I don’t drink. I haven’t in a long time.”

“Are you an alcoholic?”

He huffed out a laugh. “No. I have a few vices, but none of them are stimulants.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t like feeling out of control.”

I nodded, understanding that to some extent.

“Why don’t you like parties?”

I had a choice here, to tell him the truth or to tell another lie. “Because they’re not my scene.”

“Why not?”

He was digging. “Because someone I loved died at a party.”

“I’m sorry.” He said it quickly, not reactionary like he felt the need to give condolences. “That’s as good as any reason to quit parties.”

“Yeah, well,” I said, raising my cup half-heartedly, “not a good enough reason for Colin.”

“Why are you dating him, Trista?”

And that was my signal to go. I began scooting down the roof toward the deck, because I was absolutely not talking to Jude about my relationship with my boyfriend. Those things were mine, and mine alone.

“You don’t have to run away.”

“Well, I don’t want to answer that question.”

“Fuck, Trista,” he said, and it was the first time I’d heard him raise his voice. “Then say that. Do you really think I’m going to disregard your wishes just for my own selfish need to know?”

I was trying to process what he was saying from behind me, because it was more than just one thing. “You want an answer.”

“Not if you’re not willing to give it. Come back up here. And we’ll talk about things that don’t cause you to slide clear off the roof.”

I scooted back, lifting my butt several feet at a time until I reached where Jude lay. “I don’t want to answer that question,” I said, feeling stupid for even trying to run away.

“Okay. Good. You do know how to use your words.”

I narrowed my eyes, but stayed beside him, draining my beer. “I like having secrets.”

“I have them too.”

I nodded, knowing he did. “Tell me a secret, Jude.”

“Will you tell me one?”

My stomach tightened. “Can I choose?”

“I would think that’s the point. How can I tell you which secret to choose when I don’t even know what your secrets are?”

He had a way of reminding me how silly I sounded and it made me want to prove to him that I wasn’t so young and naïve after all.

“Okay. So tell me one of yours.”

“We have to make a deal,” he said and the heaviness of his words was like stone in my stomach. “That you tell a secret of equal value.”

The music stopped for a second, along with my heart. And then I nodded and the music below us resumed, the beat changing. “Okay.”

He lifted the cup to his mouth, took a sip and tipped his head back, his lips parted just slightly. I watched, mesmerized, as he looked at the stars above. And when his mouth opened wider, I felt my heart tremble.

“I can feel your loneliness, Trista.” He was watching me, the moon reflecting off of his face. “It’s in your eyes, that hunger for something that digs past the superficial. You want someone to know you, but you’re afraid too. And you’re consoling yourself with someone who doesn’t want to know you because you know it’s safe.” He let out a breath, like he was absolving himself of some kind of demon. “And fuck me if it doesn’t make me want to give you what you need. You’re hungry—you’re starving. And I wish you didn’t make me want to feed you.”