The Final Piece (15 page)

“I don’t know,” I snap at her, “she’s not headed here, she’s going to UNC Chapel Hill.”

I want to kick myself for letting Liz reel me into this conversation but I can’t stand it when she uses that tone, the one that makes it sound like Beth’s a disease she needs to rid me of. The protective streak in me draws up for a battle.

“Then what are you doing, Ryan? Is that why you broke up with Jordyn? So you could fantasize about hooking up with a girl you haven’t seen or spoken to since you were seventeen? Or were you going to fly across the country to spend a few days with her and then come back here and pine for another three years?” Liz’s voice gets louder as she finds her rhythm and goes in for the kill, “Grow up, Ryan. Who do you think you’re kidding? Do you think no one notices how you’ll date someone for a couple of months and move on but never stick around long enough to really get to know anyone? Do you think Jordyn didn’t know she was just a fucking place holder until Beth magically reappeared in your life?”

“What the fuck, Liz?” I shout as my anger pulses through me, ”If I’m such an asshole, then why are you here? Where I’m standing, you sound more like a jealous brat than my best friend.” Liz purses her lips together and blinks rapidly.

Fuck me, I made her cry.

“Aw, Liz, I’m sorry...” I step toward her.

“No,” she jerks away from me,” I don’t give a shit if you think I’m a brat. What’s going to happen in ten years when you wake up and realize that you’ve wasted your whole life on the idea of a girl instead of a real one?”

“Liz,” I warn. I won’t go another round with her, but I’m not going to let her make me feel stupid, either. “I’ll always love Beth, I’ll always want her. I can’t help how I feel. Maybe someday I’ll meet someone who makes me feel more than she does, but right now, this is how it is.” 

She scoffs at me, “So let me get this straight, it’s perfectly okay to date girls that you don’t have an emotional attachment to, but it’s not okay to date a girl you
are
emotionally attached to?”

I take a deep breath before I continue. “What kind of a dick would I be to stay in a relationship with someone when I can’t stop thinking of someone else? There isn’t a single thing wrong with Jordyn. She’s beautiful, smart and funny, but I don’t feel it with her, Liz,” I pound the center of my chest with my fist. “Do you know what I mean?” Liz’s chin trembles as she holds back her tears. “Wait, what the hell are you talking about ‘a girl I
am
emotionally attached to?” The look she gives me says it all: I. Am. Such. A. Dick.

“Yeah, Ryan, I know,” her voice shakes with her emotion. This time when I step toward her, she meets me in the middle, allowing me to hug her against my chest. I know she cares about me, just like she knows I care about her. We toyed with the idea of dating back in our freshman year but never went there. Not because I didn’t care about her and definitely not because I’m not attracted to her. She knows enough about Beth to know that she could never have all of me, and she means too much to me to have the short and sweet relationships I’m used to.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” The last thing I ever meant to do was hurt Liz with my anger or anything else. These are the moments when I wish things could be different between us.

“I’m sorry I was a brat,” she laughs softly and looks up at me, “I just want you to be happy. It makes me sad to see you this way.” She reaches up and plays with the hair that’s fallen against my collar.

The heat that is buzzing between us feels way bigger than the phone carcass out in the yard. I swallow hard and try to back away from the ledge before I fully fall off.

Liz looks at me with her piercing blue eyes, pleading. She’s my best friend, but she’s also hot, and I’m a guy, not a saint. Like a freaking witch, she puts me under her spell, urging me to touch her. One of my hands hovers on the small of her back, while the other grips her tiny waist; she feels incredible.
             
I shift from right to left, trying to adjust my shorts.  My brain is screaming at me to walk away from my friend, but other key parts are reminding me that she’s always been a little more than just a friend. When Liz presses her body against mine and wraps her arms around my neck, it feels natural; it feels good. When her boobs rub against my chest; I almost lose my shit. She weaves her hands into my hair and pulls me toward her.

“Kiss me, Ry,” she whispers.
             

All logic flies out the window at her gentle pleading. I dive into the kiss, nipping and sucking at her soft lips. There is nothing gentlemanly about it when I grab her ass and press her against my raging hard-on. I groan into her mouth, when she grinds her hips against me. She matches my enthusiasm, kissing me like her life depends on it, and when she moans against my ear as she rakes her nails down my back, I come unglued. Grabbing her by the waist I hoist her up on the railing and suck in a breath when her long legs wrap around my waist.

Holy shit.

All of the moments I’ve been this close to Liz beat at my brain, making me crazy. I tug the hem of her tank top out of her shorts and run my hands along the warm smooth skin beneath. Everything about her feels amazing.

“Fuck, Liz.” I pant against her mouth when my thumbs brush the undersides of her breasts, and she arches her back. Somewhere in my haze of lust, it registers when I kiss her jaw and it’s wet. I pull back and force my eyes to focus on Liz’s face. Her eyes are glassy with tears that haven’t already spilled. It sobers me up instantly. She tries to lean into another kiss, but I pull away.

“Why don’t you want to be with
me
, Ryan?” she whimpers.

Fuck.

“Liz,” I help her down off the railing, feeling like a total ass. “I care about you so much. Don’t ever think I don’t want you, that’s not it at all.”

She tries to retreat but I hold her against me. She settles against my chest while I run my fingers through her hair. This is no time to dick around, I need to shit or get off the pot. It’s not fair to her.

“Why not, Ry?” she whispers. “We’re great together. We care about each other. Why not me?”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Liz,” I sigh. “You know better than anyone how bad I am at relationships.”

“You’re only bad at them because they’re supposed to be between two people, not three.” She lifts her head and cocks her eyebrow at me.

“I deserve that,” I smirk.

“What do you want Ryan? I mean really, don’t just say ‘Beth’ because it feels familiar. Really think about what you want.” The absence of Liz’s sarcasm where Beth is concerned hits me hard. This girl is amazing, smart, funny, and beautiful—and she wants me.

I will always want Beth.

Always.

But no matter how much I want Beth, life never brought us to the same place at the same time again. Liz searches my face, waiting for me to say something. What do I say?

I want you, just not as much as I want Beth.

I think you’re great, but you’ll never come first.

You deserve to be with someone who loves you, too. The words form a lump in my throat, but I can’t say them, because I’m so damned lonely, it hurts. I already care about Liz. I can grow to love her. This is what I tell myself when I take her face in my hands, close my eyes and picture Beth as I kiss her.

Chapter 25

BETH

There are certain rules, a code of conduct that my friends and I follow. The most important rule of them all is: Do one of us wrong; bear the wrath of all of us. Trent the Tool from down the hall is about to learn that lesson firsthand. I don’t know how he thought he’d get away with it, because it took less than fifteen minutes for the news to filter down the hall that Trent was claiming to have “tapped Cyn’s ass” over spring break. That creep didn’t even go to Myrtle like we did. So we do what we girls do when the situation calls for it—revenge. Cyn, Les and I are well-known for our mischief and pranks, which only lends more credit to Trent’s stupidity. Seriously? He had this coming.

I make eye contact with Cyn and Les and give them the signal to proceed. With the Mission Impossible soundtrack running through my mind, I stand lookout as they creep into the laundry room. My heart hammers against my chest as the minutes tick by.

How hard can it be, for chrissakes?

I’m just about to whistle the one-minute warning when they come barreling out of the laundry room holding a dingy pair of tidy whities up in victory. We’ve got a minute to get our asses back in our room before we’re caught out here red handed.

“Save your laughter for the room or we’re gonna get busted,” I hiss at them. Cyn turns to me and slingshots Trent’s underwear into my face. “Gross.” I yelp, swatting them toward Les, who is laughing so hard she snorts.

We barely get through our door before we hear Trent’s guffaws start to trail down the hall, toward the laundry room. Les and I fall onto the couch, cackling, while Cyn makes a beeline for the closet. She sifts through box after box until she digs out her weapon of choice.

“A-ha,” she crows, ”behold the almighty BeDazzler! Just four payments of $19.99, plus shipping and handling.”

Les launches the underwear at her and she snatches it from the air in triumph.

“Somebody ate their Wheaties this morning,” Les snickers as she ties her long blond hair up in a messy bun. I grab Tommy’s hankie from my dresser, fold it into a triangle and tie my hair back, too. It’s strictly business until our plan is carried out. Any horsing around can lead to campus security, and we haven’t had a run-in with them since freshman year.

Cyn goes to work fastening colored jewels to the fabric. It’s an improvement to the not-so-tidy-or-whities gray hue. We’re carrying on, snickering when my phone buzzes. I know who it is, but I check the screen anyway. Charlie’s smiling face comes into view and I press
ignore
.

“You’re going to have to talk to him at some point,” Cyn looks up at me from her bedazzling. With perfect timing, the room phone rings. “Now’s as good a time as any.” She gives me a sympathetic smile. I know I’ve got to talk to him, but we broke up and that ended my promise not to hide with him. Serves him right.

“Hi, Charlie,” Les coos into the phone, “yep, she’s right here.” I shoot her the stink eye.

Traitor.

Charlie and I broke up over spring break a few weeks ago. I wish he would take that for what it is and stop calling. Technically he broke up with me, although it was mutual.

Blah, blah, blech.

Long distance relationships are a recipe for disaster. Starting a relationship a few weeks before you both move to different states was insane. We’d grown apart since Christmas and I was already planning on breaking up with him when he joined me in Myrtle Beach for spring break. What I was not counting on was him beating me to it and then telling me that he was interested in someone else.

Ouch.

Good ol’ Charlie, ever the gentleman, waited to break it to me gently before he pursued a relationship with
Tina
. Whatever. I shouldn’t feel betrayed because, technically, he didn’t do anything wrong. The stinger is that over Christmas break, we had sex. That was supposed to bring us closer, but it only made growing apart that much more painful. I can’t help but think that I wasn’t good enough or that maybe Charlie could tell I wasn’t a “real” virgin. A million insecurities bloomed from a person I’d counted on a lot for a long time. It sent everything spinning off its axis. I just want some space to
hide
heal. I don’t like showing any weakness and mine just seem to multiply every time we talk.

I grab the receiver from Les and take a deep breath before I put it up to my ear.

“Hello?” my voice is even weak.

“Hey, Beautiful.” At the sound of Charlie’s voice, my eyes fill with traitorous tears.

“You shouldn’t call me that anymore, Charlie,” I scold, “it’s not appropriate.”

He sighs heavily on the other line. I’m not in the mood to make it easy for him. He’s the one who wanted to talk.

“Beth, I can’t stand the way things are between us,” he pleads. “You’re my best friend.”

I used to be his best friend, now I’m his ex-girlfriend. Les sits down next to me, silently hands me a Kleenex and wraps an arm around me. At least I’m not alone. The vacancy left from Charlie’s friendship was already full to brimming with Cyn and Les. They’re wonderful friends, and I would be miserable without them here to hold my hand. They get how I feel because they were there for the majority of my relationship with Charlie. They saw it all unfold and then fall apart.

“No, Charlie, I’m not. Things can’t go back to how they were in high school. Too much has changed.” I try to keep my tone even because if he suspects I’m crying, I’ll never be able to get him off the phone.

“But, I miss you,” he murmurs.

“I think I recall you telling me once that sometimes the right decisions are the most difficult to make.” I know he remembers sitting with me on the floor at Christy’s, pressing me to give Ryan up. I don’t like throwing Ryan in his face, but I can’t back down on this. Too much has transpired between us and I don’t see how I can ever go back to confiding in someone who I loved and lost.