Before Now (Sometimes Never 2)

“A lot of food,” Bree adds curtly.

“And a cake,” Lucy finishes softly.

I just stand here not knowing what to say. I can’t even comprehend why she would take the time to do something so nice for me after what I did to her. I get this kick of adrenaline—this jump in my torso that has me feeling scared and hopeful at the same time.

“If you’ll move your ass out of the way we can get it inside,” Bree says, not hiding the coldness in her tone.

I still can’t manage to say anything, but I step back into the apartment to give them room. When I see them struggle with the box, I move to help.

“We got it,” Lucy says. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

I want to argue with her, but something in the way she’s looking at me gives me pause. And honestly, she’s right. I can’t lift that box without fucking myself up more. I watch as they shove it through the door and all the way into the kitchen as I follow right behind.

Bree starts tossing Tupperware on the counter and Lucy gasps. “Easy, Bree. You can’t shake them up.”

Her only reply is to roll her eyes, but she places the next container down more gently.

When everything’s out, Lucy turns to me. Every time she looks at me she winces and I don’t know if it’s because I look like shit or if it hurts her to see me. Probably both.

“This is great. I—thank you, Lucy.”

She flinches when I say her name and I hate myself even more. I want to drop to my knees at her feet and tell her how sorry I am. But that would defeat the purpose of hurting her in the first place.

“Yeah, no problem. I’ll talk to you later.”

She’s not staying.

“Will you?” I don’t know why I ask. I should just let her go. I know it’s better for us both if she does, but I still want her to stay. Fuck. I want her to want to stay so badly. I want her to want me. I need her to want me.

I’m so fucked up.

“I don’t know,” she says honestly.

I nod tightly and Bree nudges her toward the door.

***

I’m dumping dishes in the sink when I hear voices. Since I came home from the hospital four days ago nobody knocks anymore.

I hear Hope laugh and decide I need to start locking the door.

When I make it into the living room, I see they’ve made themselves at home. Guy and Hope are sprawled across the couch, chatting like I want them here.

“Hey, man,” Guy says, grinning. “You look better than yesterday.”

I doubt that. My bruises are starting to turn this weird brownish-green color. It’s not pretty. I just cross my arms.

“Yeah,” Hope agrees. “You’re less swollen.”

I arch my brows.

Hope sighs. “I’m going home tomorrow.”

I nod. Can’t say I’m going to miss her.

“We need to talk before I leave.”

I chuckle and rub my chin. I need to shave. I haven’t bothered with it because my face hurts, but now I’m getting itchy and I think that might be worse.

“Please,” Hope whispers. It makes me go still and I narrow my eyes, scrutinizing her.

“Why?”

“I’m going to go hang out with Lulu and Bree,” Guy says before heading quickly for the door. “I’ll be right upstairs if you need me.”

I return my gaze to Hope and wait for her to say whatever the hell she feels like she needs to say.

“I want you to know that I forgive you,” she starts, and I laugh. Loudly.

“Oh, that’s fucking awesome. No, really, that is priceless.” I have to hold my chest because it aches still when I laugh too hard. “You forgive me?”

She gives me a sad smile. “Yes. I thought you should know.”

My amusement fades. “What the fuck do you forgive me for?”

“For telling Mason and Guy that I cut myself.”

I don’t think I’ve ever heard her say it like that before. So honestly.

“You told me you were sorry and I couldn’t forgive you then, but I can now. It hurt me when you did that, but it ended up being one of the best things that ever happened to me.”

I nod. “Let me guess, Mason is on that list too.”

“Yeah, he is.”

“But not me,” I say. I never meant anything to her.

“No, Park. You are on that list. Just in a different way.”

“If I was so special to you, then why? How could you cast me to the side so easily? I leave for an hour and when I come back you’re suddenly with Mason and Guy knows about it. Encourages it. How could you do that to me?”

Hope drops her head, shaking it slowly. “It didn’t happen in an hour. I should have handled it differently. I’m sorry I didn’t. You were one of my best friends. I counted on you for so much, but you have to know we weren’t meant to be.”

“That’s not the point. You should have told me.”

She looks up quickly, her sharp gaze focusing on me. “You didn’t tell Lucy before you moved on to another girl.”

I snap my mouth closed, pressing my lips together.

“You pretty much did the same thing to her. Worse even. I kissed Mason. That’s it. And I did that because I wanted to be with him. I cared about him. You dropped Lucy and fucked another girl.”

“Don’t,” I say hoarsely. “Don’t talk about her. It wasn’t like that. You don’t understand.”

“The hell I don’t. I get it, Park. You care about her and it scares the living shit out of you. Cheese and rice. I get that. You pushed her away so she couldn’t push you first. You’re afraid she’ll hurt you. But don’t you realize that you’re hurting both of you?”

“Wait,” I say, holding up my hand. “Just stop for a second.” Something about this conversation is causing a severe case of déjà vu. I close my eyes and try to think. “Lucy and I…we were never really together. It’s different.” But weren’t we? I told her she was mine. Fuck. I wanted her to be mine. I still do.

Hope laughs without humor. “Neither were you and I, technically. I told you I didn’t want a relationship, but I’m pretty sure Lucy does, so I think what you did might be a little shittier.”

My eyes pop open. Shit. My chest is tightening. Did I do to Lucy what Hope did to me? God, no. I did worse because Hope loves Mason. I could give a shit about Erika.

“I didn’t fuck that girl,” I say.

Hope sighs. “Good. You can fix this. She’s hurt because she thinks you did. And on the same day as her.”

I shake my head. “I didn’t fuck her, but she…” I feel awkward talking to Hope about this of all people. “She blew me,” I spit.

She inhales deeply. “Okay. That might be worse.”

I don’t understand woman’s logic. How is that worse? It doesn’t even matter. “She’s better off without me fucking up her life.”

“I think she’d be better off with the real Park in her life. Don’t push her away because you’re afraid of getting hurt. It’s a shitty thing to do.”

“You keep saying that. I’m not pushing her away to keep myself from getting hurt.” I pause as I’m struck again by a sense of déjà vu. “Were you in my room? At the hospital? That first night?”

She cocks her head to the side, watching me. “What?”

My heart is beating way too fast. I take a step toward her. “The night I went to the hospital—were you in my room with Lucy? Did you talk to her about me?”

Hope nods slowly. “Yeah. We talked.”

I sink onto the couch beside her. “You said I made Lucy leave so it wouldn’t hurt as much.”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “Did she tell you?”

“I heard you. I thought…it was a dream.” I’m trying to remember the rest of it. What did Lucy say?

Hope touches my arm and I look at her. “She loves you. You can make this work, but you have to stop purposely fucking up to keep her at a distance.”

Holy shit. Yes. That’s it. Lucy said she loved me. But she didn’t want to. Because of what I did to her.

I don’t know what to feel. My veins are alive, my blood rushing with fear. I don’t know how to save this. I’ve become way too good at fucking up.

But Lucy…she fucking loves me.

29

Lucy

I hate that nine days can feel like months. That’s how long it’s been since I’ve seen Park. He’s probably a lot better too. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.

I hate that I miss him. I don’t want to be that girl—the one that gets walked on, cheated on, forgotten about, and pines away for the asshole who did it.

I hate that I am that girl. I can’t stop thinking about him. I try. I tell myself to stop. I remind myself of what he did.

But then I remember we were never officially together. I hate that too.

But if we were never together, then why did he say I was his?

Stop it.

I’m done.

I push myself out of bed and go to Bree’s room. I tap my nails on her half open door. “Hey.”

“What’s up?” she asks as she shuffles through the clothes in her closet.

“Are you going out tonight?”

She grins widely at me. “Yep. Are you actually going to come with us?” she asks, her voice full of excitement.

“Yeah, if that’s okay. I don’t want to be the third wheel.”

“Tricycles are awesome—FYI, but just so you know, you get to be one of the training wheels tonight. Chase and Guy are coming out with us too.”

“Where are you guys going?”

Bree concentrates on her clothes as she shrugs. “I can’t remember the name. It’s a little bar near campus.” She tosses a shirt over her head, the thin, black fabric hits me in the chest and I catch it. “Wear that with your cut-offs. It’ll be cute and you won’t get too hot while you’re dancing.”

“Okay Princess Bree. Anything else?” I say sarcastically.

“Leave your hair down,” she says, ignoring my tone. “And at least gloss your lips.”

I growl at her, but go to do what she says. I need to get out and have some Park-free fun tonight. And if that means I have to wear her clothes and slap on some gloss, I’m cool with that.

***

The bar is packed for a Thursday. That should have been my first clue. No. Scratch that. That should have been my second clue. Bree telling me all Park’s friends were coming out here tonight except Park should have been the first tip off.

My eyes keep sliding to the table in the back where Park sits nursing a beer with a girl fighting to keep his attention. If she leans over any farther, her boobs are going to fall out of her push-up bra and spill all over the tabletop.

I roll my eyes and look around, trying to focus on anything other than him. I don’t think he’s noticed me yet and I contemplate sneaking out before he does. I don’t need that awkwardness.

Bree hands me a drink and I scowl at her. “What?” she asks, innocently. I point at her in warning. I don’t want to hear it. Back-stabber. I toss my head back, gulping down the shot and hand her the glass back.

“More,” I say. I’m going to need it. She hands me hers and I repeat the process. “More,” I say again.

“Damn. All right. Let me find Jessie. Take this for now.” She hands me her rum and Coke and I suck on the straw. Her eyes settle on my empty glass that I drained almost immediately. I meet her gaze, daring her to say something. I’m not usually like this. She can put up with it for one night—especially since this is her fault. She knew I wouldn’t have come if she told me Park was going to be here.