“I don’t know your name,” I blurted.
I couldn’t very well be calling him “The Panty Dropper” when I relayed this story to Bex at the dorms on Monday. I would also need it for the short novel I planned on penning in his honor.
“You definitely need to know my name, babe,” he grinned.
His other hand went to my waist. I was pretty sure I stopped breathing when he pulled me even closer. Close enough I could feel the heat from his torso. For once the absence of breath felt like a pleasant thing.
“Asher,” he whispered, his breath tickling my face.
I gazed up at him. “Asher,” I repeated, tasting the beautifulness of it on my tongue. “Cool name,” I added dreamily.
His gaze burned into mine and he regarded me intently. He then shook himself and his face relaxed slightly, there was a glint of heat in his eyes.
That moment, right then, was when I started to fall. Fall so hard that the pain of the crash to the ground still stung three years later.
Present Day
“Coffee,” a husky voice ordered.
My cup was snatched out of my hand by a sleep-rumpled Bex, her dark black hair messed into a bird’s nest. The dips of purple at the ends were uneven due to it sticking in all direction. Her mascara was smudged around her eyes, and the tee she was wearing had holes in it and barely covered her butt. Somehow, she still looked good, if a little ragged.
Aiden regarded her, his gaze blank. The two had never really gotten on. Straight-laced law student Aiden, and wild child, med student turned stripper Bex didn’t exactly mesh. But they both pretended they liked each other for my sake.
After Bex had downed her (my) coffee she blinked to regard the scene with slightly more alert eyes. We both rivaled each other in the caffeine addiction department. We both got little to no sleep, and required the stuff to do things like talk and not bump into walls.
She blinked at me for a couple of moments, then her eyes watered slightly, and she embraced me.
“How you doin’, kid?” she asked my hair.
I sank into her embrace. She smelled like perfume and cigarette smoke, it was comforting. She’d called me kid since the first day we met, even though we were the same age. She’d said it was because I looked like a lost child on the first day of school. The loud and boisterous girl had taken me under her wing ever since.
“I’m okay,” I told her, once I’d been released.
Both Aiden and she looked at me skeptically. One thing they could agree on at least.
I whirled around, getting myself another cup since Bex stole mine. “I’m fine okay, guys?” I told them after my mug was filled.
Again, I was met with disbelieving stares.
“We knew this was going to happen. I knew it was going to happen. I said goodbye. I was prepared,” I lied, the words feeling sticky on my tongue.
Bex opened her mouth, seeing right through me.
“I need to shower and get dressed. I can’t be late to the funeral,” I interrupted, before she could say something that would risk that pins and needles feeling coming back. I didn’t need that. I needed to get through today. I had no choice. That was my life. I didn’t have the luxury of breaking down. I had to keep going. Keep running from the big bad that threatened to break me down. I couldn’t break down, only rich people had the luxury of indulging in breaks from reality. Normal people, people like me had to keep going, keep running, keep upright. As soon as you stopped, you fell. It was over. So I kept going.
Bex gave me a sad look then nodded. “You do you, babe,” she muttered. “I’m going to go and stick my head in the refrigerator. Hopefully, that’ll make it stop pounding,” she added, kissing me on the cheek.
We had tied one on last night. Well, Bex had tied one on. I had one glass of vodka, my mind already in a perpetual state of numbness. Aiden had sipped on a beer while watching Bex down almost an entire bottle with an ill-concealed scowl. He was judging her, I wasn’t. My mom was like a second mother to Bex. No, strike that, only mother.
Bex grew up in the system, her life as rough as it could get. She barely knew love, affection, or tenderness. The world had chewed her up and spit her out before she was out of diapers. Somehow, she still knew how to give love, even though she never received it. The moment she became my best friend was the moment my mom took her in as a second daughter. It hit her hard. When you’d never had anyone to count on before, then get that taken away, it seemed like all the light and sunshine in the world had been sucked away and that you were living in a night that would never end. I knew because I was living in darkness, scared I’d never feel the warmth of a new day, that the sun would never rise for me again.