Heart Breaker: An AnguiSH Novella Read online

  I pulled away, really grossed out.

  “You’ve been watching too many zombie movies.”

  “And you’ve been watching too much Matt Damon. Don’t you have class today?”

  “Yeah, I do. Ugh,” I complained.

  “Or you could slack off and stay with me.”

  “I have a test in Biology and I have to turn in a paper in Lit. But I can skip the last two.”

  “Meet me at the movies after your second class. We’ll make a day of it.”

  I grinned, “Deal.”

  Biology class was a breeze, mostly because I loved Biology. I was sure I’d aced the test. I sat in Lit class and was soon joined by Oz. I didn’t look at him for a while, just baiting him. I knew he probably wanted to release the flood of things going on between him and Stephanie, but it was funny to make him squirm.

  “You know you wanna know,” he whispered in my direction.

  I turned to him, “I know but it was fun to make you wait.”

  He stuck out his tongue at me, “I just thought I’d let you know that stage three has begun. It started this morning. She knocked on my door at six damned o’clock with coffee and donuts. She just tried to step in the door like I was just gonna forget that she accused me of being a bastard more times than I can count with donuts? I mean really, at least bring Denny’s or something. Who in the hell does she think she is?”

  “So you didn’t let her in?”

  He bent over and thumped his head on the tiny writing desk several times, “Yeah, I let her in.”

  We both started laughing and even as class started, we were nearly uncontrollable. Several times we received glares from the students around us. I wanted to glare right back but refrained. They just wished they had something to laugh at like us.

  Lit ended and Stephanie called the moment I stepped out of the classroom. The girl knew my schedule so well, she could call in those five to ten minutes as I walked from one class to the other. I showed Oz the caller I.D. and he dramatically looked for a door and then bolted from sight—chicken shit.

  “Hello?”

  “I made a fool of myself.”

  “You did not. At least he let you in.”

  “He told you!” She screamed at me.

  “Of course he did. We have Lit together and you’re my best friend.”

  “Was he pissed?”

  Her voice was so vulnerable. Maybe Breaker’s doctor could fit her in for her trust issues—maybe it could be a group session.

  “He wasn’t pissed. Keep trying and work on your jealousy crap. He loves you Steph, but even love has a breaking point.”

  “I know. Shit. Can you come hang out?”

  “I promised Breaker we’d spend the day together.”

  “Ugh, fine. How about tomorrow?”

  “Dinner tomorrow after my shift at the vet.”

  “Great. Thanks Ash.”

  We both hung up and I practically ran to my car, needing more than wanting this time alone with Breaker during the day.

  I approached him from behind as he stood, perusing the titles outside the theater. He froze and then turned around, shoving his phone into his pocket. Reaching under my arms, he pulled me to his chest and sighed into my hair.

  “I’m so glad to see you outside of our bedroom—or studying.”

  He grabbed my hand and dragged me inside after buying two tickets for the latest action movie. I expected and hoped for the theater to be empty, but instead found that it was packed full of older people. It must’ve been old people movie day. So much so, that there was hardly room for us to find a seat. We ended up behind this couple who were holding hands and kept lightly kissing each other and smiling like teens would.

  “Will you hold my hand when I’m old,” I whispered to Breaker.

  “Always,” he whispered back, his lips grazing my earlobe.

  “Will you kiss me even when my lips are wrinkly?”

  He chuckled and I could feel the rumble against my body, “Always.”

  “Will you always look at me like you do now?”

  “No,” he answered without backing away from his very near proximity. “I will look at you with more love everyday—I can promise you that.”

  After the movie ended, we began to gather our stuff when the older couple turned around to address us.

  The man said to Breaker, “You got a pretty one. But can she cook?”

  I laughed at the man’s boldness and Breaker answered, “Yes. She’s an excellent cook. Even if she wasn’t, I’d still love her.”

  I really, really wish this theater was empty.

  “Good answer, my boy,” the man clapped Breaker on the shoulder.

  “Let’s leave them to it, Ellis dear.” The woman stood and beckoned her husband.

  As we left I commented, “I liked his name, Ellis.”

  “Me too,” he replied.

  “One day I want a son named Ellis.”

  He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, “As long as he looks like you.”

  That night, I slept at my apartment. Stephanie was making lists in a notebook of ways she could win Ozark back. Some were very creative and some were outright ridiculous.

  Like singing to him in the quad at school. That crap only worked for Heath Ledger.

  And sending him flowers—because no.

  I pointed to number one on her list, which she claimed was the lamest of all—going to his house, apologizing, and groveling.

  When you’re a veterinary intern, mostly you just watch, file and clean exam rooms—which was fine by me. I always used the time for both learning and stress relief. There was something soul consoling about wiping down all the counters and tables and repeating the process—even with the barks and meows and chirps in the background.

  Later that night, Breaker and I spend the night just hanging out.

  “What are you up to tomorrow,” I asked, flipping through a magazine. We were laying side by side, me on my stomach and him on his back. Breaker was kneading my back with the heel of his foot as he studied.

  “I’m taking you to breakfast in the morning and then I’m supposed to go tutor Eva at the library.”

  I stiffened but tried to cover it up.

  He sat up, “Did I hurt you? Shit, I’m sorry.”

  “No, it’s okay. It’s nothing.”

  He slid in beside me so that his face was near mine. He was silent for a while and then I heard him scoff.

  “What?”

  “Are you seriously reading that crap? Eight ways to get your man to pay more attention to you?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “As if you don’t have my attention every minute. Even when I’m paying attention to something else, you’re there, hovering in my heart, just owning me. Don’t you know that? You’re not on my mind, you own my thoughts. You’re not in my heart, you own my love.”

  I reached for the magazine and with a flick of my wrist, sent it across the room.

  “And here I thought you were only after my body.”

  “Well, there’s that too.”

  Breaker

  Something is off with Ash.

  But really I shouldn’t complain.

  I mean, what guy complains when his girl pushed the envelope further than she’d every pushed it before in the bedroom department?

  A moron like me.

  Because Ash and I not moving to that level before marriage was more than just for her. My own weirdness prevented me from admitting that it was for me as well. I mean, I’d just gotten a little bit of a hold on who I was outside of that house, in the world. I was still visiting a psychiatrist twice a month. I’d moved to a new doctor—Dr. Dooms.

  I spent the entire first session cracking jokes about his name.

  And the second.

  Ok, the third too.

  I needed to wait just as much as she did.

  Her mouth went places it had never roamed, her hands were just as loving, but there was a neediness, an almost desperation in her touch.
It scared me. I loved it, don’t get me wrong. But it worried me just as much.

  It just didn’t seem like her.

  That next morning over breakfast she was in a stabby mood. Everything got stabbed, her eggs, her sausage, even the pancakes were slaughtered and then covered with butter pecan syrup.

  “What did that pancake ever do to you,” I asked her.

  She didn’t answer. She was stuck somewhere else.

  I walked my fingers across the table and touched her free hand and she flinched slightly.

  “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

  “About what? Tell me, Ash.” I lowered my voice to a whisper, “And what the hell was last night?”

  Her snotty tone matched her stabby attitude, “What you didn’t like it?”

  “Of course I did. It was just a little aggressive for you. You’re not normally like that. It was almost like…”

  “Like what Your Highness?”

  “Like you were trying to prove something.”

  “Do I need to,” her voice quivered that time.

  “Prove something to me? No, never. You’re evading my question. What are you thinking about that has you making a massacre out of breakfast?”

  She shrugged and put her fork on the plate, “Nothing, just nothing. I’ve got to get to work. Why don’t you call me when you get done with…” she waved her hand, “whatever.”

  Getting up from the table, she came around to my side of the table, bent down to my eye level and said, “I love you, Breaker.”

  But before I could answer, she was gone.

  Instead of going directly to the library, I took a walk around campus to clear my head. Before long I’d found myself in front of the fountain in the middle of the quad area. That fountain was one of my favorite things about campus.

  I looked through all of the handprints in the concrete, looking for mine and Ash’s, they were there somewhere, intertwined, and making a crude heart between our hands. She thought it was cheesy of me to suggest sneaking onto campus to do it, but now we were immortalized in this place. Anyway, it was significant to me in more ways than that. It was a mark of me getting healthier, getting out into the world, making my mark somewhere other than in my house.

  I took a picture of our hands together with my phone and set it as my wallpaper. The university clock rang out a song, telling me it was noon. The last thing I wanted to do was be stuck in a study room with Touchy Girl, but I looked at it as facing another fear of mine.

  The text that I received the other night was from this girl. I’d figured that out the day before when she texted me during class and then waved her phone at me when I pulled my phone out—all proud of herself and shit. She told me to meet her in the study rooms towards the back of the library—Room 2A, second floor, first room.

  I looked in the room and she was indeed studying and looking not very successful at it. I went in the room that smelled faintly of old French fries and Eva perked up at my entrance.

  “Hi Breaker, I was afraid you weren’t gonna show up. I hope you’re not angry for me texting you. You didn’t get in trouble with your girlfriend, did you?”

  She didn’t look one bit sorry, even if I had.

  “No, Ash is not the jealous type. She’s really not. Anyway, why would she be jealous of someone I’m tutoring.”

  “Well, I really need help with the study guide. So, would you rather stay here with me while we figure out the answers—or maybe we can figure out some other way for me to get the answers.”

  And there it was. She didn’t want a tutor. She wanted someone to cheat off of.

  This is the kind of people I was hiding from in my house.

  “Well, I hope you’ve reserved this room for a while then. It took me about four or five hours to finish this study guide.”

  She blew off my threat, opening her book and prepping her work area.

  We got to work. I kept staring out the window while she looked up answers, thinking about Ash. Sooner or later she would tell me what was going on with her—she always did. Just as I was thinking about her, I swore I saw her or someone that looked a lot like her, peek around one of the bookcases and then bolt in the other direction as the movement caught my attention.

  Eva struggled—a lot. Even with me helping her. I actually pitied her. After two hours and only ten questions answered, she blew her hair out of her face and shut her book.

  “I’m done. I’ll get the answers somewhere.”

  “You’ve only got ten done. There’s four more pages.”

  “Oh well,” she shrugged and headed out of the room.

  I rolled my eyes at the ludicrous way I’d chosen to spend my afternoon. After I left, I decided to go home and get some studying of my own in. Ash texted me late in the afternoon and told me she was on her way home. Since she’d been weird that morning, I didn’t know what to expect.

  Ash

  The guilt wrapped its hands around my throat and squeezed at random intervals after that day. I’d not only doubted Breaker James, but I’d gone to the library and spied on him—trying to catch him in some kind of trap.

  I skipped out on work that day, and after spying on my love, went to my apartment and confessed everything to Stephanie. To my surprise, she didn’t egg me on or high five me for my efforts. She warned me—thoroughly. She encouraged me to confess and really talk to Breaker about my fears.

  She didn’t want me to end up like her.

  I only heeded some of her words. I heeded the ones about not distrusting him again. I ignored the ones about confessing—I was too ashamed of my own actions. I was terrified of what he would think of me.

  The next few weeks were strained. Breaker knew something was up with me, but I refused to tell him what I’d done. Stephanie and Oz had decided to stay friends for a while, opting to build a better relationship than to lose what they’d had.

  After we all finished mid-terms, the four of us went to dinner and then went out to play mini-golf. We were having a great time when Oz spotted a girl who was checking out a guy on the next hole down.

  “She’s so obvious about it,” Stephanie shrilled. Then she elbowed me, “She needs some sneaking around lessons from you and me, huh? At least we know how to check on our men without getting caught.”

  Some things go in slow motion when you don’t want them to. Falling down—getting hurt—getting caught—all you can hear is the drumming of your heart in your ears and it feels like your chest hollows out gurgle by gurgle like a gallon of milk with a hole in it. Breaker’s gaze was focused on me and I could feel the heat of it.

  “What does that mean,” he said softly.

  “Oh shit,” Stephanie covered her mouth. “I told you to tell him.”

  Cue the spotlight.

  “I’ll tell you later,” I said, trying to pick up my golf club and get to the next hole.

  “Tell me now, please. It’s obvious you’ve told everyone else. Why make me wait?”

  “Fine.” My cheeks heated in embarrassment. “I went to the library that day, with you and Eva. I just wanted to see—to make sure. But it’s fine. I mean, everything is fine.”

  How many times did I say fine?

  “No, Ashland. I don’t think it is fine. Oz, can you take her home? I need some air.”

  “We’re outside Breaker,” I sassed him.

  “Maybe I need some fresh air. Did you want Oz to drive by my house, make sure I’m not cheating?”

  I opened my mouth to answer, but it was too late. He’d walked out of the place and far away from me.

  Breaker

  I shouldn’t have left her. She never left me when I was at my worst, so what kind of bastard was I to leave her when she’d messed up?

  Her phone rang what seemed like forever before she answered.

  “Hey,” she whispered. So unsure, so unlike my Ash.

  “I need to see you.”

  She sighed into the phone, “You do?”

  “Yeah, now. I’m coming to get you on the bike.�
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  “I’m here. Come get me.”

  I drove home, picked up the motorcycle and raced her way. I didn’t want another second to pass by with her wondering what I thought of her or me wondering why she could fathom me ever cheating on her—not one more second.

  Ash was outside waiting when I got there. She didn’t hesitate to hop on the bike but she did falter in her hold on me. She barely fisted my shirt, when she got situated and that just wouldn’t fly with me. I needed my girl’s arms holding onto me.

  Need didn’t seem like a strong enough word for the way I craved Ash.

  Never had.

  I grabbed her hands and wrapped them around my waist. She leaned into my back. But there were no playful squeezing of her thighs or accidental roaming hands on this trip. She wasn’t herself—then again, she hadn’t been herself since that day with Eva.

  I brought us to a stopping point outside of the quad. She took off her helmet and I was temporarily brought back to the first time I saw her. Her raven hair shook my world and her unconcern for my pity party fascinated me. Something down deep inside me knew that with Ashland in my life, I would never be the same.

  “What,” she said. Her voice was still whispery.

  “I’m bringing you back to the beginning.”

  She stole a glance at the quad and then nodded.

  We sat on the edge of that fountain, that risqué fountain. The pose had been chosen by the Art Department and it was beautiful. But two lovers embracing caused quite a stir. Whoever in the Art Department that decided the fountain should be kept under wraps until its completion was a genius. It was a modern Rodin sculpture, The Kiss.

  “Tell me,” I demanded more than asked. Things hadn’t always gone smoothly with Ashland. And I knew that I was more than she bargained for when she and I began to fall in love—and not in a good way.

  “Where?”

  “Wherever it was that began the thought process of me ever cheating on you.”

  She twiddled with the edge of her shirt sleeves until she was ready.

  “It started when you came back for me, I guess. When you held me that first time and I realized how big and muscly you’d gotten—you should see how girls look at you.”

  “Not good enough,” I growled unintentionally.