Read Someone Else's Fairytale Online

Authors: E.M. Tippetts

Someone Else's Fairytale (26 page)

BOOK: Someone Else's Fairytale
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After a week of no Matthew, I waited until ten at night and drove over to his apartment. Sure enough, his truck was there and his light was on. I force marched myself up the stairs and knocked on his door.

I saw the pinpoint of light in the peephole wink out, then there was a long moment of nothing. I was ready to start pounding on the door again when he opened it. “Howdy,” he said. He was in sweats, with a worn sweatshirt and socks with a hole in the toe.

I folded my arms across my chest.

“Yeah, I know.” He shut his eyes a moment. “I know. Stay there. I'll come out.” The door stayed open as he went to get his slippers on. I found a seat on the top step of the stairs and stared off at the horizon. The sky was jet black out beyond the city limits and the stars were thick as speckles on a hen, almost.

I heard, rather than saw, Matthew come to sit next to me. “I'm sorry,” was the first thing he said.

“For what, exactly?” I asked. Now that he was here, within striking distance, I wanted to grab him and shake him and cry. I wanted to tell him I'd fallen for him and demand to know what his game was. He was the last person on earth I'd ever have expected to betray me.

“For not calling you back,” he said. “For what it's worth, and it's probably not worth much, I needed the time to think.” The fluorescent lights on his walkway cast deep shadows in his features, making him look even more stern than he was.

“You done thinking yet?”

“I dunno.”

“Well, shall I go away-”

He put his hand on my arm. “No.”

I shook him off. “What did you conclude, while
thinking?”

“Well...” He sighed and put his head down on his hands.

It occurred to me to just get up and leave. Just walk away and never speak to him again, but I wouldn't get answers that way, so I waited. He was going to talk. I was adamant.

“So, I made a mistake,” he said.

“That what you call it?”

“A big one. The worst.”

“I can't believe you!” I said. “How on Earth-”

“Just, let me say my piece, all right? Then you can scream at me and hate me forever or whatever you want.”

I pressed my lips together and turned to look at him.

He stared down at his hands and fidgeted. “I've spent a long time thinking it over. First of all, I didn't expect things to go as far as they did. I thought you'd be more... reserved.”

“That,” I said, “is not my fault. I trusted you. If you wanted to slow down, you should've said something.”

“Well...”

I'm not a violent person, but I was sorely tempted to slap him. As it was, I just glared. “I'm not a mind reader. Pretty sure I told you that.”

He looked back down at his hands. “I've liked you for ages. I just never thought it would go anywhere, and... so when it did, I had a lot to figure out.”

“Like what?”

“Like whether it was love or just a crush. Whether I wanted to be with you, seriously, or whether it was just one of those daydream things. The thing is, you are amazing. Truly. There's no one I admire more than you. And you're beautiful.”

“But,” I prompted.

“It's just a crush. And what we did this week... I pushed things way too far.”

“Okay, so what do you want? Just to slow down, or not to even be together?”

Matthew didn't answer, just fidgeted.

Anger went supernova in my chest. “Why would you do that if you don't even want a relationship? What's the matter with you?”

“I'm not proud of my reasons.”

“Which are?”

He shut his eyes and his lip quivered a little. “I've thought about it from every angle. I just... I didn't want Vanderholt to win.”

“I never made this about Jason.”

“I know. I did.”

“And you really don't know me at all, do you? I am not interested in the random movie star guy with all his free time and a Skype connection. I'm nice. I let him talk to me. That's
it.”

“He's got it bad for you, Chloe. Anyone who sees him with you could tell you that. I dunno if he always gets this into his scams or if you're different to him but-”

“So what?”

“So? I got jealous. I wanted to be that into someone, and it's not like I couldn't see what he likes about you.”

“Yeah, yeah. You like me, I'm wonderful, but don't even want to try dating me-”

“It's not like that.”

“I'm like a sister to you?”

“You're not religious.” He looked right at me as he said that.

I opened my mouth and shut it again.

“You're a good person,” he went on, “but your wiring's fundamentally different from mine. A lot of things that really matter to me, I can't talk about with you.”

“I totally fell for you.”

“Chloe...”

I got up and headed down the stairs then. I didn't let myself look back. Matthew didn't say another word.

 

 

Jason picked up on the third ring. “He-ey!”

“I shouldn't have called you. I'm not in my right mind.” I was driving home, my bluetooth device in one ear.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing. Everything. I don't know. You're not whom I should talk to.”

“You know you can talk to me. Talk to me.”

“Jas...”

“Talk.”

“I kissed Matthew.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And he bailed on me.”

“What?”

“Blames himself at least. Calls it a mistake.”

“Man, I'm sorry, Chlo. Really. I know what it's like to get burned.”

“Yeah. But I shouldn't have called you.”

“Why not? We're friends, right?”

“I lean on you enough.”

“You've never leaned on me. Ever. Though you can, if you need.”

“I should go.”

“Hey, don't-”

“I need to go now.” I hung up. I was at my house, not Val's, mine. This was home. This was my refuge, and Chris was locked up for the night, at least. I parked my car and went inside.

The kitchen yielded up no potato chips when I searched, and the freezer was devoid of ice cream. I couldn't find a scrap of junk food anywhere. I cursed Chris and the inconvenience he caused me. But gorging myself wasn't the answer.

Hiding in my room felt like the answer. I shut the door and curled up on my bed in fetal position. My bedclothes smelled a little dusty, but they also smelled like me. I couldn't imagine leaving my little cocoon of sheets and blankets to venture out into the world again.

 

 

Two hours later, the doorbell rang. I looked at my clock. It was
. Too late for a casual visitor. It had to be Matthew. He'd probably gone to Val's and was now here. He wanted to find me. He'd put real effort into the search.

I rolled off my bed and padded out to the front door. Okay, I thought. I'm ready for this. It'll be good. I twisted the knob and pulled the door open.

Jason stood on the doorstep, a grocery bag under one arm, his Prius parked behind him in the driveway. “Hey,” he said, "you all right?”

 

For a minute I just stared. “You're here?” I said.

“Yeah,” said Jason. He looked like he'd just stepped off the set. His hair was styled. He'd shaved.

“How did you get here?”

“It's called an airplane. Invented over a hundred years ago.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I don't think I was followed, but-”

“Come in,” I said. I stepped back.

He came inside and dumped the grocery bag on the counter. “So are you all right?”

I nodded.

He held out his arms to me.

Now that he offered, I realized I could use a hug. His strong arms wrapped around my waist and he pressed his cheek against mine. As always, his skin smelled like moisturizer and with his body pressed close, it was natural for me to relax. I felt safe now. He kissed my cheek.

That felt good, really good. It was tempting to turn my head and kiss him back. No, I told myself. You're not thinking clearly. This is Jason, not Matthew; be smart. I pulled back.

He let go of me and turned to the grocery bag on the counter. “I don't know your favorite flavor, but I know chocolate's supposed to have magical properties in a situation like this.” He pulled a carton of ice cream out of the bag. “This work?”

“Definitely.”

He reached over the counter and tugged open the silverware drawer. I wondered how he knew which drawer, or if it was just a lucky guess. He extracted one spoon and led me over to the couch. Alarm bells went off in my head, and they only got louder as Jason sat me down, peeled the lid off the ice cream and dug out a spoonful. “Here,” he said. He fed it to me.

It wasn't cheap, generic brand ice cream. This was the good stuff. It made me melt inside. I wanted to let him feed it to me and pour my heart out to him in return. I wanted him to put his arms around me and erase this whole nightmare with Matthew. And I wanted to kiss him and gaze into his dreamboat eyes. I had no doubt that he'd let me.

“You okay, Chloe?”

I shut my eyes. It seemed natural to lean against his shoulder, but I didn't. This is
Jason
, I reminded myself. He had more ex-girlfriends than I had college credits. “Give me a second.” I got up and made myself walk to the bathroom, where I shut the door and took several deep breaths. Chloe, I thought. Get a grip. Think clearly. Do the right thing.

I splashed some cold water on my face, which made my cheeks sting like I'd rubbed them with sandpaper. The tearstains hadn't faded yet. Worse, I wanted to start crying again. Jason was being perfect. If I could dream up the ideal boyfriend, I couldn't script a better visit. He clearly knew what he was doing. Because, I reminded myself, he had experience.

BOOK: Someone Else's Fairytale
13.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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