11
Cadie
I’m standing with other dancers backstage, waiting to find out which part I landed. I know I’m part of the dance troupe, but I don’t know if I’ll be in the background somewhere. I have a good feeling about it, though. Or maybe that good feeling is just that I’ve been spending a lot of time with Ram. It’s been several weeks since we first had sex. He called me the next morning and we ended up talking on the phone for hours. I’ve seen him every night. We surf and have sex and spend time getting to know each another. I’m getting better—at surfing, that is, I was always pretty good at the sex thing. Being with him has been the perfect distraction—at least it started out as a distraction. I’d desperately wanted to get my mind off of Evan, but then it turned into more …
I don’t know what all of this means for him. I know what it means for me. I’m falling for him. I can’t help it. He’s not the kind of guy a girl can just walk away from and never look back. I’m not saying I’m in love or anything. We’re not even dating. But spending time with him and having the best sex of my life makes me happy. That happiness has transferred into other aspects of my life and now I feel ready for this part in the dance—whichever part I get.
My name is called. It’s my turn to audition for the lead roll. The spotlight blinds me. I can feel the eyes of the other dancers weighing me down, judging, speculating, willing me to fail. But as soon as the music starts, the world disappears and I rise. I’m an ocean breeze; I’m a dolphin gliding through the water; I’m light itself. Everything Ram has taught me about surfing, I use in this dance. I’m free.
As soon as the dance is over, the real world comes back in a rush and again I’m heavy and weighed down, but I know I’ve nailed this audition. I have no regrets, no nagging inner jabs telling me there’s something I could’ve done better. I left everything on the stage and now I’m just an empty husk.
My stomach rolls as the names of the dancers and their roles are called. I pick at my nails, roll my ankles, transfer my weight from foot to foot. And then my name is called, followed by one word: Penelope. I got it. I got the lead. I fight back the roar of laughter and happy squeals that hit me like a tsunami. I did it. I really did it!
Of all the people I could call and share my good news, my first thought is Ram. It’s concerning. But I’m too excited to read more into it. I’ll worry about that later. Right now I just want to celebrate with someone who believes in me. If it weren’t for his encouragement, I don’t think I would’ve believed in myself enough to even audition for this particular part in the dance. I would’ve sat back and let someone else have it and told myself I was meant to be somewhere in the background. It’s the best of the best and I didn’t think I was worthy. Ram did, though. He made me believe it too, and now here I am.
I text Ram and wait for him to respond. While I wait, I look at his Instagram pictures. There are a few of us surfing together. I try not to think too much about the fact that he has me mixed up in his photos since he has his other students on there as well, but it feels good to see it. I’m not someone he’s trying to keep secret, at least. We look good together. Everything about us fits so well. His blond hair complements my auburn waves. Our bodies are evenly matched with both of us having athletic builds. We look like companion dolls. My Barbie to his Ken.
The voice over my shoulder startles me. I put down the phone as if being caught watching something inappropriate. I turn and see a beautiful woman standing there. Short and compact with the perfect dancer’s body, cropped blond hair in a pixie cut. A pink little cupid’s bow for a mouth. She’s one of the girls who auditioned for the same part as me. She ended up getting the part of Penelope’s sister. We’ll be working together now.
My face lights up. “Hi, I’m Cadie,” I say, introducing myself. If we’re going to be spending a lot of time together, it’s best to make friends.
She gives me a friendly, yet assessing, smile. “Mara. Congratulations on making the cut. I didn’t see that coming.”
My smile falters a little, but I manage to keep it there. I don’t know if she intentionally meant that to be underhanded, but it sure as hell sounded like it. I decide to give her the benefit of the doubt, though. Last thing I want is to work closely with someone I hate. I need to make this work.
“Thank you,” I say graciously.
“I don’t mean to pry,” she says, though the tone of her voice tells me that’s exactly what she’s aiming for. “But I couldn’t help but see the photos of the guy you were looking at. Do you know him?”
Apprehensive, I nod my head. “His name is Ram.”
“Is that his name?” she says all innocence and smiles. “I’ve only known him as the Bed Shaker. Isn’t it wonderful what he does for women? I mean, no one has ever made me come the way he has. I can’t wait to see him again.”
My throat tightens. I struggle to swallow down the sickness rising up from my stomach. Ram has been with this little troll? Of course he has. She’s beautiful. That seems to be the only prerequisite for the women he sleeps with according to Gina. How can I work with this woman knowing she’s been with the man I’m sleeping with?
Mara acts like she doesn’t see my distress, but I know she does, and she takes that knife and twists it in. Her face goes slack with concern, her voice condescending. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry. If it makes you feel better, he doesn’t respond to my personal messages, but he obviously does yours. Maybe you’re special?” She shrugs as if she doubts it, then walks away, bouncing on her toes as she does.
I’m going to be sick. I hold my stomach, afraid I’ll puke right here in front of everyone. My head is filled with images of Ram fucking that dumb bitch, and I’m pissed. I close my eyes, trying to block it out, but it makes it worse. How many people has he had sex with since me? Probably a lot. I should’ve known better, but somehow the thought never even occurred to me. How could I be so stupid? I can’t be with him anymore. I don’t know if I can take this job either.
Ram texts me back. I turn off my phone without even looking at it. I have to get away. I have to leave this place.
* * *
I get home and change into a pair of shorts and a tank top. The plan is to lounge around the apartment, binge-watch Stranger Things, and eat the carton of double fudge ice cream I bought on my way home. No thinking of Ram or that dumb bitch I’ll have to see every day when I go to work. What a fucking nightmare. Every time I see her, I’ll picture them together. It will drive me insane.
Hercules, aware of my current mood, won’t let me out of his sight. He stays at my heel as I grab a big serving spoon and plop down on the couch. No bowl for me. I plan to eat this entire lactose bomb out of the container. This might be the one and only perk of being an adult. There’s no one around to tell me I can’t, and no one to judge me for doing it.
I’ve settled into a comfy position on the couch. Hercules is cuddled up next to me. I’m on the third episode and things on the show are getting crazy and my brain has finally allowed me a moment’s peace. All I’m thinking about is the show.
Then the doorbell rings.
My heart leaps into my throat. Oh God, what if that’s Ram? I don’t want to see him or talk to him. Please go away.
I stand up and watch the door, thankful that I locked it. He must’ve seen my car, so he knows I’m home. I just hope he gets the hint and goes away.
The doorbell rings again. I take a steadying breath. Fuck. A few seconds later, I open it.
“Evan?” I say, surprised and a little disappointed. Though I was sure I didn’t want to see Ram, I guess a little part of me did. “What the fuck do you want?”
He looks terrible. He was never really all that handsome; he was too pale, a good three inches shorter than me, and a little on the skinny side. It was never his looks and body that drew me to him. He was a nice guy—or so I thought—and I’d never dated the ‘nice guy’ accountant before. I’d always been attracted to the bad boys. The ones who work with their hands and don’t mind getting dirty. The manly-types. Since I hadn’t had great luck in the past with the bad boys, I decided to give Evan a shot. That didn’t turn out so great. I’m starting to wonder if maybe it’s me. Maybe I just don’t have good luck with men.
“Can we talk?” he says.
I should tell him to go fuck himself. I’ve wanted to do that for a long time. If he didn’t look so miserable, I would. Beneath his eyes are heavy, bruised-looking circles. He’s lost weight, his hair looks a bit thinner, and he looks like he’s aged years in a matter of weeks since I saw him at the mall. I guess I didn’t really bother to see how he looked then either. I was too busy paying attention to his pregnant girlfriend.
I sigh and open the door. When he steps in, I close it behind him.
“Hey Hercules,” he says to my dog in that high-pitched way people talk to animals. Hercules is not interested. He looks once at Evan in curiosity, then returns to his sleeping position on the couch.
“What’s this about, Evan?” I say, letting my annoyance color my voice.
“Can we sit?” he asks.
I motion to the couch. He sits on one side. I make sure Hercules is between us when I sit on the other. God, how could I ever have been with this guy? After being with Ram, it’s impossible to be attracted to anyone else. Has Ram ruined me? Will I ever be able to find anyone else who even compares? The thought makes me nervous.
“I’m so sorry for what I did to you,” he says, shaking me out of my reverie. I just stare at him, not knowing what to say to that. “I made such a huge mistake leaving you. You were the perfect girl, and I was so insecure around you. You’re so beautiful and sexy, and I was scared to death that you would realize that you were too good for me and would walk out the door. So when Shelly approached me, I just …”
Her name is Shelly? That’s about all I get from that whole line of bullshit he spills on me.
“I just wanted the attention. It wasn’t supposed to be anything more,” he says.
Why am I still sitting here? Why am I listening to this? I must be a glutton for punishment because I remain frozen on the couch.
“I guess it’s too bad she’s pregnant. Now you’re stuck with her,” I say, surprised at how cold I sound.
His mouth hangs open. I guess he didn’t realize I was aware of that. He shakes off the dumb expression from his face and straightens up.
“I’ll take care of the child. I’m not a dead-beat. But I can’t be with Shelly. I don’t love her. I love you. I need you back, Cadie.”
He starts to grovel and it makes me sick. I bite back all the venomous words I want to spit at him.
“After the way you betrayed me, there’s no way I would ever take you back,” I say in a matter-of-fact tone that leaves no room for argument.
“Oh … I thought after you sent those sexy pics, there might still be a chance for us. I look at them every day.”
“That was a mistake,” I tell him. “I shouldn’t have done that. I was drunk.”
A tear slips down his cheek. He hurries to wipe it away. He’s actually crying? If he wasn’t such a douchebag, I would feel sorry for him. Actually, I do feel sorry for him, douchebag and all. I know what it’s like to care deeply for someone who doesn’t return your feelings. I don’t know how Ram really feels about me, but it’s probably not what I’m feeling for him. And that sucks. It sucks that I feel anything at all because we can’t be together. Not now. Not after what happened today.
Does it make me a terrible person that I want Evan to hold me just so I have someone else as pathetic as I am to commiserate?
“Can I get a glass of water?” he asks.
I nod. He knows where everything is. He used to live here, after all.
While he’s busy doing that, I turn on my phone. There’s a ton of missed texts and calls from Ram. I’ll deal with those later. I find Gina’s number and send her a quick text.
Me: Get over here ASAP. Evan is at my apartment crying and wanting to get back together. WTF should I do?
Evan gets his water and settles back down on the couch. I tuck my phone under my leg.
“So, are you seeing someone?” he asks in such a sad, pitiful voice that I cringe.
“No,” I say, because I’m not sure what’s happening between Ram and me. Whatever is going on might all be in my head.
The doorbell rings. Gina! Thank God she lives nearby.
I jump up and answer the door, but it’s not Gina standing in my doorway.
“Ram, what are you doing here?” I ask as he walks in.
“I’ve been trying to reach you. Congratulations on the part! I want to take you out and celebrate.” He pulls me into his arms and gives me a long, passionate kiss right in front of Evan. I go stiff in his arms. As much as I would’ve loved for Evan to witness this fifteen minutes ago, I don’t want him to see it now. Not when he’s already at an all-time low. “What’s wrong?” Ram says when I don’t kiss him back.
That’s when he sees Evan who is now standing and looking stricken. His mouth is hanging open, eyes wide and full of pain. I want to yell at him to stop looking at me like that, like I’m some horrible monster who stomped on his heart. At least I’m not the one who cheated.
“I thought you said you weren’t dating anyone,” Evan says, his tone still sad but with an edge of accusation at the end.
I step out of Ram’s embrace. “I’m not. We’re just friends.”
Ram’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t say anything to counter what I’ve said. We’ve never made anything official, not even close. I don’t even know how he feels about me.
“Friends don’t usually kiss like that,” Evan says.
“It’s complicated,” I say.
“I guess it is complicated, isn’t it?” Ram says. He sounds pissed, and I tense up, not liking the direction this whole thing is turning. “I mean, I have a lot a friends, but I don’t kiss them. Or fuck them, for that matter. I guess that makes us friends with benefits.”
My mouth drops open and I just stare at him. Where is this coming from, and why the hell would he say that right in front of Evan? I could slap him right now.
Evan looks like he’s about to puke. He holds his stomach and what little color he had left in his pallid skin has gone ghost-white.
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” he says. “I was always afraid you would leave me for an action hero.”
I look at Evan then at Ram, who isn’t moving. In fact, I’m not sure he’s even breathing. He really does look like an action hero. The two men are polar opposite. Ram looks like a Norse god, while Evan looks like he belongs back in the shire with the rest of the Baggins clan.
“Except I didn’t leave,” I say.
“I’ll let you two love-birds hash things out,” Ram says. He starts to leave, but Evan speaks up.
“I was just going. I’m sorry, Cadie,” he says. “I fucked up.”
I don’t say anything. Neither does Ram. Neither of us says anything for an entire minute after Evan leaves. It feels like forever.
Finally, Ram says. “So that’s the guy you’ve been using me to get over?”
His lips curl with disgust, and the words come out like a curse.
He knew. Of course he knew. I’m sure that’s why some of the women he encounters want to hook up with the Bed Shaker. Like they say, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. But it stopped being about Evan a long time ago. Before Ram and I ever slept together.
“I didn’t sleep with you to get over Evan. It wasn’t like that.”
He puts his hands over his face. His words are muffled when he says, “Please don’t say his name around me.”
“Are you actually mad at me right now?” I say, my words laced with poison. “It’s not like we’re a couple. We just sleep together. We’re nothing.”
His expression shifts into pained grimace. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever let come into my house, yet we’re nothing? I spend all my free time with you, and you call us nothing?”
My stomach twists and I feel hollowed out. I had no idea he thought of us as something more.
“But …” I start to say. The rest of my words get caught in my throat.
“But what?” he snaps.
I startle at the harshness of his tone. I’ve hurt him. That’s not pure anger I see in his twisted expression. That’s pain.
I almost give in and tell him everything. I almost tell him I want to be more, that I’ve never felt this way about anyone, that I might … I might even love him. But then I think of that tiny bitch from my audition. I’m going to have to see her every day and know that she’s been with him too. It makes everything he and I have shared in the last few weeks feel less special. I’m just one of the many women in his little black book.
I square my shoulders. “Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” he demands.
I stand my ground. “It is nothing. We’re nothing.”
His shoulders sag and he looks as stricken as Evan had after witnessing our kiss. “Bullshit,” he says. “You care about me. I know you do. Something happened.” He reaches out and takes my chin, lifting it so I have no choice but to look at him. Tears start to fall despite my efforts to keep them back. He wipes them away with his thumb. The gesture is so sweet, so tender, that I begin to cry harder. His face shifts again and now he looks afraid. “Tell me what happened.”
I feel stupid for even saying anything because Ram and I are not exclusive. It’s dumb for me to even be upset, but I can’t help the way I feel.
“I met one of the women you’ve slept with. Her name is Mara. She’s in the same dance company as me. We’ll be working side by side.” I slide him a glare. “She says she can’t wait to hook up with you again, by the way.”
God, I sound so jealous and ridiculous. I hate myself right now.
Ram looks confused. “I have no idea who that is.”
“Maybe you just don’t remember.”
He gives the glare right back to me. “I’m not a whore, Cadie. I know the names and faces of the women I’ve slept with. I have a reputation, yes, and like most people with those kinds of reputations, they get exaggerated. I guarantee I haven’t slept with as many women as you think I have, and I definitely haven’t slept with anyone named Mara. She sounds like a jealous, conniving bitch who’s trying to rattle you. Clearly it’s working.”
My stomach hurts. I want so badly for his words to be true.
“Have you slept with anyone since you’ve been with me?” I ask. I’m terrified of the answer, but I need to know.
“No,” he says without hesitation. “No fucking way. I haven’t even been able to think about other women since you came into my life.”
With my history with liars, I shouldn’t believe him. But I do.
He swallows hard. A muscle in his jaw ripples. “Have you?”
I look at him like it’s the most absurd question he could possible ask. “No, of course not.”
He lets out a long sigh and his whole body loses its rigid edges.
“That kind of makes us exclusive, doesn’t it?” he asks shyly. It’s kind of adorable. He even blushes.
“Is that what you want?” I ask.
“Yeah, I do. What about you?”
It’s time to let down my guard. He has a past that I’m not entirely comfortable with, but I won’t let it dictate my future. A future I want him to be a part of.
“More than anything,” I say.