Still doing okay? You haven’t responded to my last text and I’m worried.
Jeez, it’s been just over an hour, and he’s already worried. I can’t suppress the little flip my stomach does when reading his text. Hoping to prevent him from just showing up here, I text back: Yes professor. Still holed up at home, safe n sound.
Can I come by to talk? Please.
Awe, he said please. No. We can talk later. I won’t leave tonite so u dont need to worry anymore.
I can’t seem to help it. If you’re going to continue being this stubborn, perhaps tomorrow then.
Sure. Tomorrow.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jacoby
I don’t remember getting home last night. All I know is I woke up in my bed this morning still in yesterday’s clothes. It took all of five seconds to remember that Tatum didn’t come home with me. Then the memories came pouring back in. I haven’t had a weekend that mentally trying since…well, since Harper died.
Hoping to banish the ghosts from my past, I hit up Trey to meet me at the gym. He was already there waiting for me. The dude practically lives there. We blow through our sets without much conversation. I’m pretty sure he’s pissed at me for being a cockblock last night, but he doesn’t understand. I resolved myself during my workout to fill him in on the situation so he stops thinking I’m a douche.
Neither of us says much until after we’re finished. The silence has stretched on long enough, and I’m already feeling drained from the week I’ve had so I broach the subject while we collect our bags from the locker room.
“Hey man, about last night—ˮ, I begin after toeing off my sweaty gym shoes.
“You don’t have to say anything. I was a dick.”
“Tatum isn’t like other girls. I didn’t want to talk about it last night, but I’ve been kind of helping her out,” I tell him, wiping the sweat from my eyes before tossing on my red and black hoody.
“What do you mean? Shit, man, you aren’t seeing her are ya?”
“If I was seeing her, I would have knocked your fucking ass out last night.”
Trey takes a drink from his water and gives me a knowing glance. “But you want to see her.”
“It’s not that simple.” I scrub a hand over my face, still completely exhausted from the night before.
“Why not? It’s obvious she’s into you. I know she only kissed me to get a reaction out of you, which was funny as hell.”
“Fuck you, man, that wasn’t funny,” I reply as we walk out the double doors and into the parking lot.
“So, back to this ‘helping her out.’ What’s the story?” Trey leans a hip against the side of his black SUV. The September air has a slight chill, though I’m warm enough in a hoody, and it feels good to be in the breeze after a tough session at the gym.
I stare at my black and gray gym shoes in my hand. “She’s my student.” I glance up just in time to see Trey’s eyes go wide before he quickly recovers.
“And? There’s gotta be more to the story than that.”
“There is.” Exhaling a deep breath, I continue to tell Trey the story, starting from the beginning. I need to get this off my chest, and Trey is the only true friend I have right now. I trust him more than anyone in my life, so I don’t leave out a single detail. When I’m finished, he hasn’t moved, but his face is colored with fury. He’s holding nothing back.
“Damn. I want to kill that pussy-shit mother fucker.” He cracks his knuckles for emphasis. “She’s such a sweet little thing, no wonder she looked so timid last night.”
“She’s been doing a good job of pretending she’s okay, but man, you should have seen her break down. I didn’t know what the fuck to do. Still don’t. We got into it last night, too.”
“Because of my dick move? ‘Cause now I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. But if you ever touch her again, I’ll kick your fucking ass.” Trey grins and just shakes his head. “We got into it because I’m sending mixed signals, and it pissed her off. Pissed me off too. I know the right thing to do, but it’s not what I want to do.”
“You want her, don’t you?” His bright blue eyes hold a touch of sadness. He knows what I’m going to say before I say it, and we both know it can never happen.
“I don’t know what the fuck happened. We spent a few days at each other’s throats. Somehow she buried herself deep beneath my skin, and I haven’t been able to get her out. The more time I spend with her, I realize I don’t want her out. She’s intelligent, witty, beautiful, incredibly strong, and brave. Not to mention she has a great fucking body. But then I come back to reality, and remember I could lose my job.”
“Is she worth it to you?”
“We’ve spent hardly 48 hours together, but from the glimpse I’ve had, I know she’s going to be hard as hell to forget.”
Trey hits the key fob, unlocking his SUV before he opens the door. Turning to me, he says, “If my opinion is of any worth to you, I think you’ve lost and let go of enough in your life already. You’ve spent two years ghosting your way through each day, barely seeing what’s right in front of your face. I think she’s life’s way of saying wake the fuck up. It’s time to move on and let yourself feel again. Harper’s never coming back, and I know you still blame yourself for what happened. Take a fucking chance.”
I sadly shake my head. “I don’t know. If we were to be caught, my career would be over.”
“What’s more important? Your happiness or your job? There are other options out there. You could come work for me,” he says, punching me in the shoulder. “I’ve gotta go, man. Let me know what you figure out, and if you see that little fucker around town again call me. Breaking someone’s face sounds pretty good right about now.”
Laughing, I say goodbye, deciding to catalogue his advice to think about later. He has a point, but I’ve already had to start my life over once in 25 years. If I were to lose my job, I’m not sure I’d be able to move on and do it again. And lose Tatum like I lost Harper. A sharp constriction grips my chest. I’m in deeper than I thought.
After showering at home, I’m surprisingly pleased when I get a text from Tatum. I figured she’d sleep in after the night we had, so I wasn’t too worried I hadn’t heard from her yet, I also wasn’t confident she’d reach out to me at all. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t affect me when I read her text. My stomach clenched in a way it hasn’t for years.
I’ve been thinking nonstop about my conversation with Trey today, and I’ve realized he’s right. I need to move on. I need to stop categorizing my life in Before Harper and After Harper. Her death was the most traumatic thing I’ve ever experienced, but I’m not dead yet. I’m here, and I still have my entire life ahead of me. Life is fucking unfair. Harper was taken too soon, and it was my fault. But if I’m ever going to live my life again, I need to let go of the things I have no control over. No matter how much the guilt festers, it isn’t going to bring her back.
Tatum hasn’t had a smooth sailing introduction to life, and she isn’t letting that hold her back. Even if I don’t deserve this chance, maybe Tatum does. She deserves for someone to make her feel like the most precious thing in this world. Her history certainly doesn’t reflect that thanks to douchebags like Wyatt. And what if he wasn’t the first one to treat her like that? The thought makes me sick. I may not be deserving of her, but I sure wouldn’t mind spending my time trying to make her feel the way she deserves.
After last night, though, I’ll be lucky if she even wants to look at me. I wasn’t nice while telling her how wrong it would be for us to be together. And I know she heard me loud and clear.