Wasted Words (36 page)

Read Wasted Words Online

Authors: Staci Hart

Her face softened. “I know, Cam. I know. But you’re enough. The raw version of Cam is who we all love. We don’t want you to be different than that. And I get you feeling out of place, I really do. But just because you put on lipstick and a dress doesn’t mean you’re not who you are.” She threw a coaster at me that said,
Comparison is the thief of joy - Theodore Roosevelt
. “Why do you compare yourself to anyone else? To strangers, to what you think Tyler wants? Why can’t you just accept who you are and who he is and let that be enough?”

My chin flexed, nose burning as I swallowed. “I don’t know, Rose.”

Rose’s eyes darted behind me, lighting up. I looked back to see Patrick walking in, shaking the rain off his jacket with tattooed fingers as he wiped his boots on the mats. The way they smiled at each other was enough to make my heart flutter for them. I only wished I had someone to look at me that way.

Except you did, and you lost him.

Patrick walked up to the bar and greeted Rose — she leaned over the bar to give him a kiss — and he turned to me, smiling as he sat.
 

He leaned on the bar. “Rose wanted me to come talk some sense into you.”

I snorted and took a sip of my drink.

“Do you need sense talked into you or is she just being pushy?”

“Hey,” she said, mock pouting as she poured him a drink too.

I shrugged. “Maybe both.”

He nodded and took a drink once she handed it over. “So, you and Tyler got in a fight?”

“Yeah. I started to talk and then … then he just walked out.” I drained my drink and passed it to Rose for a refill, which she provided.

“Does he make you happy?” Patrick’s blue eyes were intense, like he could see right through me.

I blinked, brow quirking at the unexpected question. “Of course he does. He’s the best person I know.”

“And you make him happy.”

I took a sip, slumping as I leaned on the bar. “I think I did, for a minute at least.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “You know, for a long time after I broke up with Rose, I just let her be angry. I let her hate me, thinking I deserved it for leaving her in the first place, and by the time I realized there was a chance for us, it was almost too late. In fact, for a while there, I thought it
was
too late. But it’s never too late. You’ve got to go after what you want, Cam. If you’ve found love, if you need him and he needs you, then there’s no question. You have to try, not run away because you’re afraid of what it might be, or because you’re afraid of losing him. Don’t make my mistake.”

My eyes welled with tears again. Rose looked satisfied. I, however, felt worse. “So what do I do?”

“Apologize,” Rose said. “Let go of all the reasons why you can’t and focus on why you can. Stop fighting it and just let go. Tyler will take care of your heart. He’d never hurt you. You know that.”

I nodded and sniffed, biting my lip so I wouldn’t cry.
 

“Feel better?”

“I need a plan. A way to say I’m sorry that doesn’t involve too much talking.”

“Nude apologies are the best for that.” She smiled. “Now drink some more. Did you get cupcakes like I told you?”

I chuckled. “Yeah.”

“Good. That should help. Just try to keep it together until he gets back. Feel all your sad mopey feelings and remember how much you want him. You could always try calling him.”

I shook my head. “He’s so busy this weekend. It’s homecoming and he’s courting a player.”

“Well, he’ll be home Monday, right?”

I nodded again.
 

“Come in and work tomorrow, if you need something to keep your hands busy. I have a crate of books in the stock room that need to be labeled and shelved,” she joked.

I rolled my eyes. “Sounds like a real party.”

She shrugged, smiling.

I finished my drink, letting it all soak in as Rose and Patrick talked. I had to go after what I wanted, fearlessly, and for the first time, I thought I might be able to.
 

I filled with tentative hope.

After a little while, I said my goodbyes and thank yous, aching for solitude again. The rain had subsided, though it still drizzled, and I popped my hood again, stuffing my earbuds in, the music crooning in my ears a little too sad all of a sudden . I switched it to my walking music, the playlist full of happier songs, with driving beats that held purpose, and every step, I found, held a little purpose too.
 

They were right, I thought. Caring about each other had to be enough. I did trust Tyler. He’d never hurt me on purpose. It was the truth I’d been fighting all along, what he’d been painstakingly trying to convince me of.

Being with Tyler had kicked up the dust of my past, bringing the pain of what happened with Will back into my heart when I thought it had been buried. All these years when I thought I’d been fine, strong and protected by rules that had become a cage, but I hadn’t really dealt with it at all. It had always been in the back of my mind, just waiting for the moment it could spring out and ruin something brilliant for me, which it had.

But the truth was simple. The truth was that I was exactly who I was, and that was enough for Tyler, and it was enough for me. The truth was that love had no rules. There was no right or wrong, just as Tyler had said. There was just him and me.

So my apology to Tyler would begin with that admission.
 

I didn’t want to lose Tyler, but I had. I lost him
simply because
I didn’t want to lose him.
 

I laughed out loud on the train, and a few people turned to give me dirty looks, but I didn’t care. Not now that I could see the truth, the path out of the fog and back to his shores.

By the time I reached the apartment, I was cold and wet, but my mind rolled over my thoughts like sweet wine. I was warm from the whiskey, fanning the flame of the flicker of hope in my chest.

I hung my jacket on its peg and kicked off my boots, changed my clothes and settled into the couch with my book, thinking about all the ways I’d apologize to Tyler, all the ways I’d make it right, feeling like it would be a million years until I had the chance. My eyes found my old, battered copy of
The Hobbit
, and I picked it up. Later, I wouldn’t be able to tell you why, though at the time it called to me.
 

I opened to the page where he’d left off, marked by the ticket to the Giants game.
 

To say the book was damaged was putting it mildly — the corners were curled, the pages yellowed and dog-eared, passages highlighted over the years, noted in the margins with my thoughts. But on the page Tyler had stopped on, he’d marked one of my highlighted passages.
 

If this is to end in fire, then we should all burn together.

The note next to it in the margin simply said
This, Cam.

My heart skittered in my chest, breath shuddering.
 

We should burn together.

And I knew then without a doubt that I wanted to burn with him. That if it were to end, we would go together, into the fire.
 

The shelves didn’t matter. Kyle didn’t matter. And those truths found their way deep into my heart, setting me free.

My tears hit the book in my lap with a small splat that wrinkled the page, and I closed it, clutched it to my chest as I sank back into the couch and cried. But my tears weren’t sad anymore. They weren’t full of longing. They were full of hope.

TRUE COLORS

Tyler

HALFTIME HAD JUST ENDED, NEBRASKA’S band marching off the field to the thundering roar of the crowd.
 

It had been a long break, full of announcements and awards, the presentation of the homecoming court, and of course Kyle’s recognition for the team’s new uniforms. He’d walked up the podium, looking like a hero as he waved to the crowd, sporting one of the new jerseys himself.
 

I dropped my eyes to the playlists in my clipboard as I stood next to Darryl, the team amped up after halftime. I pointed to one of the formations, and he looked over my shoulder. “You’re gonna want to watch this guy.” I tapped on the X that represented a defensive end. “Campbell is fast and smart. He’s gonna be on you worse in the second half than the first.”

Darryl nodded. “He’s already been all over me.”

“They’ve got a fourth-quarter team this year — the farther behind they are, the harder they play, and they’re losing. So don’t get comfortable.”

He bounced, his dilated eyes on the field. “All right.”

I knew where his head was, full of adrenaline and drive and fury, all coiled up and contained in him, but he was ready to spring. The whistle blew, and special teams took the field for kickoff.

Kyle hadn’t headed back into the stands — I’d seen him moving through the players and the coaches, shaking hands and talking. I kept my eyes down, willing him to keep walking when he approached. And empty wish, I knew.

“Hey, Knight.”

I glanced up at him — he looked a little cowed, not nearly as cocky as he generally did, which was especially strange since he’d just been recognized publicly for his generosity to a stadium of people.
 

It was like I was in the Twilight Zone.

“Hey,” I said, and looked down again, flipping the page back, looking for nothing.

“Still pissed at me?”

“Yeah, I’m fucking pissed at you, Kyle.” I flipped another page back with a snap.

“Listen, I’m sorry. You didn’t give me a chance to apologize, and you didn’t look interested in talking to me at the party. I talked to Cam for a bit though.”

I turned to him, eyes narrowed. “She didn’t tell me that.”

He smirked. My fist clenched.
 

“What’d you say to her?”

“Nothing. I bought your drinks and we chatted in line. She looked good, man. I get why you decided to hook up with her, even if that’s all it is.”

Drinks
… it was after she’d gotten drinks that I’d lost her to her thoughts for the night. “Don’t you fucking talk about how she looked. You don’t get to look at her. What did you say to her?”

He put his hands in his pockets and puffed out his chest. “She almost tripped and fell, and I caught her. She’s a tiny little thing.”

The thought of his hands on her nearly threw me into a rage. I didn’t know what had gotten into me, but my hands shook as I glared at him, wanting nothing more than to get my hands around his neck. I dropped the clipboard to my side, clutching it with sweating palms. “Kyle,” I warned.

“I just told her the truth. She doesn’t belong with you, man. You know that.”

My teeth ground together so hard they ached. “Who I’m with is none of your fucking business. Why the fuck do you care?”

A shadow passed over his face. “Because you haven’t been
you
since you moved in with
her.

“You haven’t been
you
since we left this field.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I don’t get it, bro. You dropped off the planet, quit hanging out with me or any of the guys, quit dating, for the most part. You couldn’t hang on to Jess, so, what? You end up slumming it with Cam? She’s pathetic.”

I snapped, roaring as I lunged for him, cocking my fist back and letting it go to hook him in the jaw. The players and staff around us grabbed me, but I shook them off and planted my feet, chest heaving and fist aching.

Kyle laughed and rubbed his jaw, rolling it to assess the damage.
 

“She’s all I’ve ever wanted, you son of a bitch,” I said through my teeth, “and you’re part of the reason she’s not mine.”

“Good riddance.”

My nostrils flared, fist clenching again, the pain forgotten for a moment as I used all of my power to keep myself still. This wasn’t the place. “Stay away from her. Stay away from me.”

“You don’t mean that.” He smirked.

“I mean it more than I’ve ever meant anything in my life. Now get the fuck out of here, or I swear to God I’ll—”

“What? Knock out an NFL player, an alumnus, on camera? The guy who just paid for new uniforms for the entire team?” He laughed, the sound dry and cold. “Who the fuck are you to threaten me? You’re nobody, Knight. You could have been somebody, but look at you now. Washed up, wishing for the glory days, standing on the sidelines while
I
play. While
I
make money, get the girls.”

The other players standing near us turned to face him, their jaws set, a wall of us standing against him.
 

“I already had the girl. That was all I really needed.”

He was flanked by players, including Darryl, who said, “I think you should leave.”

Kyle stepped up to him, bowing out his chest. “Fuck you, you little punk.”

Darryl stood his ground, and Kyle sneered.

“You think you know? This isn’t shit.” He motioned to the field. “This is
nothing.
It’s a stepping stone to get to the pros,” he met my eyes, “because if you don’t hit pro, you’re nobody.”

I didn’t realize my dad had stepped up to the fray. “What the fuck is going on here? Churchill, get the fuck out of here before I have you thrown out.”

Kyle met my dad’s eyes with rage burning behind them. “Sure, Coach.” And with that, he turned to go.

Dad turned to us, jaw set. “Quit fucking around, everybody. We’ve got a game to play, for chrissake.” Everyone dispersed quickly, and when he looked at me, his face was hard, but his eyes were soft. He nodded at me, and I nodded back.

The back half of the game was a blur, part of my mind on the game, but in every spare second between plays I sifted through what had happened. Cam, poor Cam. Who knew what he’d said, really. It couldn’t have been good, probably worse than what he’d even told me. And she believed him. He’d hit her right where it hurt, knowing what would happen, or at least hoping for what happened. And she didn’t tell me.
 

But of course she didn’t.
 

I had to call her, message her. Talk to her. It didn’t change anything, but it changed everything. Because before that, I felt her, knew she was happy and good and ready to be with me. I knew that what he said affected her. And that night, I convinced her again to stay. And the next day, when she tried to talk to me like I’d wanted, I walked away.
 

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