Authors: Erica Cope,Komal Kant
“Thanks, Tessa,” I said quietly, still embarrassed.
“Anytime, see you tonight, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll be back probably after dinner.”
“Have fun.” She waved goodbye.
The weather was pleasant today so I decided to wait for him outside the dorms. When he pulled up I hopped off the bench I’d been perched on and practically skipped to his truck.
I jumped into the passenger seat and threw my arms around his neck giving him a kiss on the cheek. He just sat there, open mouthed and stunned by my enthusiasm.
“What did you do to your hair?”
“What? Oh, I, um, cut it,” I mumbled, suddenly self-conscious. I had forgotten he hadn’t had a chance to see it yet. “Don't you like it?”
“Why did you change it?”
“I don't know. I guess I thought a change would be nice.”
As low as I felt right now, it was hard to believe that literally 5 minutes ago I was floating on air. Now I just felt like Braxton had popped my balloon.
He didn't say anything else, but he seemed annoyed as we drove the hour to Southlake.
Nobody met us outside when we got to the house. I felt like it was a bad omen and I ended up being right. Braxton's mom was not doing well.
Mr. Douglas was kneeling down beside her, his large tan hands clasping her smaller boney ones. His head was down as though in prayer. Brad stood behind him, his hand placed on his father's shoulder. He looked up when we entered the room and gave us a weak smile before returning his gaze to where his mother lay feebly on the living room couch.
Braxton walked in without hesitation and plopped down on the arm chair. He was still acting weird but now wasn't exactly the right time to mention it.
“How's she doing?” I asked
“It’s not good,” Brad choked up. “Her tests showed no change. The doctor is recommending hospice.”
“What?” I felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room and my eyes filled with tears. I looked back at Braxton but he just held his head down, trying to keep his own tears from spilling.
“Hailey?” she asked, her voice so weak it was barely a whisper. She was so lethargic that she didn't even bother trying to open her eyes because the effort involved was too much for her.
“Hi, Mrs. Douglas.”
I kissed her lightly on her forehead. She felt like ice. I reached down and pulled the afghan up over her shoulders.
She didn't say anything else, just drifted back to sleep with uneven breaths.
Braxton, Brad, and I moved to the kitchen to allow her to rest quietly.
“Dad hasn’t left her side since we heard the news this morning,” Brad confessed.
“I'm so sorry,” I said, as I pulled Braxton's hand into my own and gave it a comforting squeeze.
“Are you hungry?” Brad asked
“Sure,” I said weakly. I actually wasn’t hungry at all. My mind was still consumed in grief.
We ate lunch and attempted to talk, keeping our voices down so we didn’t disturb Mrs. Douglas, but the conversation fell flat more times than not. I don’t think any of us were up for talking.
“I like your hair, by the way,” Brad said.
“Thank you.” I gave him a small smile.
“What made you cut it?”
“I don’t know really. My roommate was getting hers done and I just thought I’d try something new.”
“It suits you,” he said with a smile. “So what else have you been up to?
“Not much. Just school mostly.”
“Don't you ever go out and have fun?” Brad teased me.
“Actually you'll never believe what I did last weekend,” I told him, being sure to keep my voice down but unable to completely contain the excitement of remembering the thrill of performing on stage. “I played electric guitar—on stage—in a bar!”
“Shut up!” Brad exclaimed, clearly impressed.
“Shh!” I reminded him. Then I continued, whispering, “I did! It was at this local bar. My roommate's boyfriend's band plays there pretty regularly so we went to watch them play and one of the guys was a no-show so I stood in!”
“You did what?” Braxton's head snapped up, clearly unimpressed.
“I played guitar with
Set the Flames
last weekend,” I said more nervously now in response to Braxton's reaction. “It's not at all my usual type of music—it's like punk pop or pop punk or something like that.”
“Why did you do that?”
“I don't know, I guess because they were desperate when Deuce didn't show up.” I wasn't sure why he was being so weird about this. “I wish you could’ve been there. I was kinda awesome,” I admitted.
“Deuce?”
“He's in the band.”
“Obviously,” he said with an annoyed tone. “Come on Hailey, I need to get you back.”
He turned abruptly and left the house, letting the door slam behind him. I looked at Brad who just shrugged. I told everyone goodbye and made sure to shut the door behind me quietly, unlike Braxton.
I climbed into the passenger seat and he immediately slammed the shifter into reverse, not even waiting for me to put on my seatbelt.
“What's your deal?” I finally asked.
“What's my deal? Are you serious? You're the one with the new clothes and the different hair, playing in a punk band all of a sudden! What's going on, Hay? Why are you trying so hard to change who you are?”
“I'm not trying to change who I am!” I snapped. “Did you ever think that maybe this IS who I am? That I'm just beginning to find out exactly who I am and what kind of person I want to be?”
“And that person is the kind of girl who chops off all of her hair and joins a band?”
“I'm not joining a band! I just helped out my friends!”
“Friends that I've never even met.”
“And that's my fault? You are the one who keeps blowing me off.” I was actually yelling at him now. I didn't think I had ever really yelled at Braxton before. Sure I'd been angry with him before now, but this time it felt different—this time I didn't feel like I needed to hold it in.
“You were so beautiful before Hailey, why change?”
“Are you serious? What are you trying to say that I’m not beautiful any more?“
“That came out wrong.”
“Whatever. Just take me home,” I finally said.
He flinched like my words hurt him somehow, but I wasn't really sure why they should.
“This is your home, Hay,” he said softly, almost defeated. “Here with me.”
The ride back to campus was just as quiet as always. For the first time it occurred to me that maybe that wasn't as reassuring as I once believed it to be. I used to think that the compatible silence was a sign that we were perfect for each other. That we were comfortable enough to just be able to enjoy each other's company without unnecessary chatter.
And maybe that's what some people wanted in a relationship—to co-exist in complete and utter contentment. The thing was, I wasn't sure I was content anymore and that scared me.
We pulled up in front of the dorms and Braxton stopped me as I tried to get out.
“Look, I don't want to fight with you. I'm sorry. It's just that everything in my life is so fucked up lately. My mom is dying. She's dying, Hay.”
“Don't you think I know that?”
“I guess I just thought I'd always be able to count on you to be there for me.”
“I am here, Braxton. I haven't gone anywhere.”
“You're here, but you're different. You're acting different. You even look different.”
“This is about my hair?” I couldn’t believe that
that
was what bothered him the most.
“It's everything. It's your clothes, it’s you hanging out in bars and playing in a band, and, yes, it’s your hair. You don't look like
my
Hailey anymore and I hate it, Hay!”
“How can you be so freakin' shallow? It's HAIR, Braxton! It'll grow back!” I snapped. I jumped out of his truck and slammed the door shut before leaning through the open window. “And you're not the only one hurting because of your mom. Yes, I realize that she is YOUR mom, but you know she's been like one to me all of these years. It breaks my heart too but I'm not being a jerk to you.”
I made sure to turn and walk quickly away before the tears started to flow. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I was walking in the wrong direction, but as soon as I realized where I was heading it occurred to me that maybe this was exactly the right direction. Whenever I was upset, I turned to music. It was my sanctuary. Music was what healed me and right now, I was pretty broken.
Chase
I’d just gotten in a good hour of music practice and was walking out of the Music building and toward the parking lot absorbed in my thoughts when someone slammed right into me.
“Hey, watch it!” I snapped, then blinked several times to make sure that the blubbering mess in front of me was who I thought it was. “Hailey? What the hell happened to you?”
“Leave me alone!” Hailey cried, tears streaming down her face as she pushed me away.
But instead, I held on tighter. I wasn’t going to desert her while she was at her lowest. I lowered my head so it was closer to hers, and smoothed back the stray hairs that had fallen across her face.
“Take a breath, Hailey. I’ve got you. You’re okay.”
Hailey’s body shuddered as she took several gulps of air. I couldn’t imagine what had happened to make her break down like that. If some asshole had messed with her I was going to punch their teeth out.
It was the first time I’d ever seen Hailey completely lose it. Usually, she was scribbling away in that stupid planner of hers, trying to control every second of her life. I wondered if an emotional breakdown was part of the plan.
She shook her head and stared down at the ground, refusing to let me in. But I was just as stubborn as she was, and I refused to let her shut me out.
“Hailey.” I grasped her tear-stained face in my hands. “What happened to you? Did someone do something? Are you hurt? I’m here for you, okay?”
And, it was like I’d said the magic words, because all of a sudden she began crying so hard I was afraid she would break.
Each sob that Hailey took ripped through me like a tornado—the effect was devastating.
“H-he said he didn’t know why I was trying to change who I am. That I don’t look like
his
Hailey anymore.” She shuddered against me, and I had a sudden urge to punch her boyfriend in the face.
Hailey didn’t need to elaborate for me to realize who “he” was. She was referring to her boyfriend. What the hell kind of guy would say something like that to his girlfriend over a haircut? Stupid ass. He didn’t deserve someone like Hailey.
I took a step back and held Hailey at arm’s length, studying her—all of her. I wanted her to see every word as it came out of my mouth so she knew how deeply she affected me. “Hailey, listen to me. There aren’t enough words to describe how beautiful you look. I could tell you a hundred different ways, but none of them would come close to doing justice to how truly amazing you are, inside and out.”
The expression on Hailey’s face was one of surprise and confusion. Her eyes drifted to my lips and for a second I felt as though I knew what she was thinking.
“I-uh-you think I’m-“
I nodded, pulling her close again. “Who the hell is he to say you’re not beautiful? You’re so damn beautiful that I can’t keep my eyes off you.”
Hailey didn’t say anything, but her crying subsided. She continued to stare at me as though she was in a daze, and now I really wanted to know what she was thinking.
“Do you want me to call Tessa?” I asked, trying to keep my voice soothing.
Hailey shook her head, biting on her lower lip. “No, it’s fine.”
Yeah, right. Whenever a girl said something was fine, it really meant the exact opposite.
“Well, do you want me to walk you back to your room?”
Hailey shook her head again. “I don’t really want to go back there. Honestly, I’m fine, Chase. You can just let me be.”
But I wasn’t going to let her be. Not when she’d just had an emotional breakdown over her jackass boyfriend. What Hailey needed was something to make her feel better.
“Do you want to come back to my apartment?”
I realized it was a pretty big ask considering she hadn’t even wanted to eat breakfast with me. What would make her want to go back to my apartment? I braced myself for another rejection similar to the one she’d given me that morning in the Music room, but to my surprise Hailey began to nod.
“Yes, I’d like that. I just really don’t want to go back to my room right now.”
“I get it,” I said, and began leading her toward my car.
And, you know what? I wasn’t trying to be one of those guys who empathized with a girl when she was at her lowest just to get in her pants. I actually did get it.
I knew what it was like being in a toxic relationship where you were constantly making excuses for the other person and trying to convince everyone else, including yourself, that there was nothing wrong.