Bitter End (29 page)

We stood as a couple shimmied in front of us down the row to their seats.

“I’ll be all right,” I said, when we settled back again. “Can’t you guys just let it rest?”

She held up her hands. “Okay,” she said. “But if you need help cutting it off…”

As the house lights dimmed I wondered if maybe it
was just a matter of getting help cutting it off. Maybe I wasn’t just afraid of what he would do to me or to Bethany and Zack
if I broke up with him; maybe I was afraid of being without Cole. Maybe being with an abuser was better than being totally
alone again.

And before I could even stop myself, the words tumbled out of my mouth: “I think… I don’t know, like, I deserve it sometimes.”

She reached over and put her hand on my wrist on the armrest. “Alex,” she whispered, but the house lights went totally down
and the orchestra’s opening music crashed to life, breaking whatever spell I was under. “Alex,” she whispered again, but then
faltered when the man in front of her shot her an angry look.

I shook my head and pointed to the stage, where Zack had emerged in a 1950s-era suit, singing something about payday.

The lights came up again for intermission. We both clapped and cheered Zack’s successful first half, which was way better
than any first half Mickey Hankins had ever had, but somehow the excitement never quite reached our eyes.

We might have talked more about it. I might have told her about the night Cole punched me. I might have taken her into the
ladies’ room and told her about Brenda’s suicide attempts and Cole’s dad, who I was pretty sure beat Brenda, too. I might
have told her about the wrist and about Cole calling me a slut whenever he was mad at me. I
might have been swept away just enough by Zack’s singing and Bethany’s soft hand on my wrist to have told her everything.

But the lights were up again, and it was bright and I felt exposed. The family next to me began pushing their way down the
row, and the audience, including Bethany and me, made a mass exodus toward the restrooms, and the moment was gone.

Bethany made a beeline for the restroom, but all I really wanted was something to drink, so I turned toward the booth set
up by the culinary students and got a soda. I paid for it, then turned, taking a sip, and almost bumped right into Cole’s
chest.

“There’s my beautiful lady,” he gushed, kissing me on the ear. Immediately I felt the familiar tension rise in my shoulders.
Lately, I’d had that tense feeling in my shoulders every time he touched me. I smiled thinly. “You are gorgeous tonight. I
didn’t realize people got so beautified to go to school plays.”

My heart was so busy racing, I could hardly take in what he was saying, much less answer him. Was he going to insinuate that
I was trying to look good for Zack? That was a path that was too familiar and too ugly to want to go down. I sipped my soda
casually.

“So I was trying to surprise you,” he continued, stretching one arm around my waist and pulling me toward a corner where nobody
was standing. “But I got here right as the show was starting and I couldn’t find you in time. Sure
looked like you and Bethany were having a serious conversation down there.”

He paused pointedly, and I had no choice but to swallow the soda I was holding in my mouth and speak up. I braced myself for
a poke or a jab or a pinch that would mean
I know what you were telling her
. I shook my head. “We were just talking about my new tooth. See?”

I bared my teeth, and Cole’s face lit up. “There’s the mouth I know and love.” He leaned over and kissed me, then smacked
his lips together elaborately. “Mmm… sweet!” He leaned in and whispered into my ear, “The soda’s not half-bad, either.” Our
old joke.

Slowly, I started to relax. He was the old Cole, sweet Cole. Cole who was trying to make the best of it with Zack and Bethany.
Cole who whispered that I was beautiful and left roses on my car and assured me we’d have a great, calm life together with
lots of beautiful children. Why couldn’t he stay
that
Cole?

The lights flickered, and the crowd started to move back into the auditorium.

“Oh, hey,” Cole said, pulling two ticket stubs out of his back pocket. He held them up. “I’ve got two seats.”

I glanced over at Bethany, who was flicking worried looks over her shoulder at me as she filed back into the auditorium with
the rest of the crowd. After what I’d told her, she’d never in a million years understand why I’d even be standing next to
the guy, much less why I would sit with him over her for the entire second half of a musical.

She might even try to get me to move back to my original seat. Cause a scene. Make people stare. Force me to deny having ever
said anything. Force me to make her look like a fool in order to save myself.

But as much as I worried that Bethany wouldn’t understand why I wasn’t sitting with her, I knew that Cole would be pissed
if I chose her over him. And of the two of them, Cole was the one I was far more afraid of.

“Okay,” I said, taking his arm. “Let’s go.”

Turned out, our seats were only a few rows behind Bethany, who scanned the auditorium almost obsessively until the lights
started to go down.

And when they did start to fade, she finally found me.

I didn’t need light to see the disappointment and sadness in her eyes.

As soon as Cole took the corner toward the lake, I knew where we were going. This was the first time we’d really gone anywhere
alone since the musical. Not that Cole hadn’t been trying. I’d been avoiding it.

I was afraid to be alone with him. Afraid that he’d hurt me again. Afraid that I’d be forced to break up with him and then
he’d do something crazy. Afraid that there was a lot more of me to be broken than just a tooth. Unbroken parts of me on the
inside, where scars don’t show. And afraid that he would find those unbroken parts of me and smash them to bits.

But no matter how I tried, and no matter how many times Bethany tried to talk me into it, I couldn’t break up with him. There
was something familiar about Cole. I loved him. I understood him. We understood each other. And you don’t come by that every
day. If you give up on your soul
mate… if you let him slip through your fingers… will you ever be loved again? I didn’t know, and I was afraid to find out.

We didn’t talk much as we drove along through the woods. Cole’s hand was in my lap, his fingers entwined with mine. He sang
along to the radio; I gazed out the window at the bare tree branches silhouetted against the crisp early-spring sky. Things
felt comfortable between us.

Finally, Cole pulled off on a gated road and parked in a patch of dry weeds. We both got out and tromped through the familiar
foliage, coming out on the other side at the top of the spillway.

Cole marched right across, just like always, but as I raised my foot to join him, I felt the familiar pang of fear reverberate
in my chest. It had been a while since we were last here. It was so high. So dangerous. And a lot had happened between our
last visit and now. Cole himself had gotten so much more dangerous since then.

“Come on, Emily Dickinson,” Cole said, stretching his arm out toward me. “I won’t throw you off.” He laughed as though he’d
just made a particularly funny joke, but my knees shook when I realized that this was exactly what I was afraid of.

“I can’t,” I said, and choked out a laugh. My teeth chattered. “It’s been too long.”

Cole rolled his eyes and came across to me. “Chicken,” he teased. Then, just as he’d done on our first date, he
grabbed my elbows and, walking backward, led me to the middle of the spillway ledge.

“See? You made it, chicken,” he said. He sat, dangling his legs over the edge of the concrete, and scooted back, patting the
ground in between his legs, just like before. “Come on. Sit down.” When I just stood there, my arms crossed against the constant
cold breeze, my whole body shaking, he rolled his eyes again. “Alex. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Sit down.
I want to tell you something.”

Slowly, slowly, I lowered myself into his lap, my legs dangling over the edge now, loosing rocks into the water below. I leaned
into Cole, taking in his familiar scent, feeling the shape of his chest that I’d memorized over the past several months, and
closing my eyes, the memories flooding back so hard it almost hurt.

He pressed his cheek against my ear.

“I told my parents yesterday that I’m done with sports for good,” he said.

“Really?” I asked, turning so my forehead was leaning against his chin.

He nodded. “I was afraid I was going to lose you.” He reached up and grabbed my chin, gently lifting it up so I was looking
into his eyes. “I can’t lose you. I love you too much.” He bent and lightly kissed me. “All that stuff that happened, Alex.
It’s over. It won’t ever happen again.”

I ducked my head, my chin pushing against his hand. “You’ve said that before,” I mumbled.

I felt his belly move outward and back in again as he took a deep breath and released it. “I know,” he said. “But this time
it’s different. I went to an anger counselor yesterday. I’m changing. For you, Alex. I’m changing because I love you.”

Relief flooded my body. Cole had talked about changing before, but this time felt different. He’d never talked about counseling
before. Despite myself, I started to let myself believe that maybe this time he really meant it. I turned the whole top half
of my body so that I could look into his face. I didn’t know what to say. Everything could be different now. Everything could
be like it had been in the beginning. I could be getting my old Cole back for good. I wanted to cry, I was so happy.

Cole picked my hand up off his thigh and held it in both of his, gently stroking my fingers. “I want to marry you, Alex,”
he said. “I want us to be together forever.”

And suddenly, I found my voice. “I want that, too,” I said, and was surprised at how true that was. Despite all that we’d
been through, I wanted this future with him. And I believed in it.

Cole scooted backward, away from the edge of the spillway, pulling me along with him. When it was safe, I turned to face him,
wrapping my legs around his waist, and we kissed, forgetting about fear. Forgetting about how high we were and how the tiniest
slip could take us a long way down.

Things were good. Cole was going to counseling and seemed to be making a renewed effort to make it work between us. He was
back to calling me Emily Dickinson and buying me things and making everyone pretty much think we were the perfect couple.
It felt as though we’d made it through a dark winter and were blooming again, right along with the early-spring flowers.

He was working so hard at making things better, I even began to let my heart believe in us just a little again. And then a
little more. And after a month with no violent outbursts, it started to seem as if all that other stuff that had happened
was in the past now, and he and I would make it.

One night, lying on his bedroom floor listening to TV noise drifting through the hallways of his house, we decided it only
made sense for Cole to go to Colorado, too. He was sorry about throwing the papers out the window
before, he said. He’d never stopped wanting to go, he said. He said he knew as much about me as Zack and Bethany knew—maybe
even more than they knew—and it seemed like the best place for the two of us to grow a stronger bond.

I knew Zack and Bethany would hate the idea. But it was worth it to fight them whenever I thought about hanging out in front
of a roaring fire, letting go of my past, snuggled in Cole’s arms, then making love in a down-filled cabin bed. It sounded
like the romance we really needed.

Plus, Cole had been talking more and more about spending the rest of our lives together. Maybe he would officially propose
and we would go ahead and get married there. We’d be eighteen. A mountaintop wedding. Beautiful.

I decided I would bring up the idea to Bethany and Zack the next time I saw them. After all, they’d asked to bring Tina along.
My asking to bring Cole made so much more sense.

I waited until I saw them together at Zack’s house. Every day I watched and waited, and as soon as I saw Bethany’s car pull
up in Zack’s driveway, I threw on my jacket and rushed over there.

“Hey,” I said when Zack’s mom opened the door. “Are they here?”

“Alex!” she declared, much too loudly. I almost thought I detected a hint of something in her voice that I couldn’t quite
pinpoint. How much had Zack told her about Cole? Did she know about the fistfight in the front yard? “Well, honey, it’s been
so—come on in—Zack’s just right down—Zack, Alex is—I just made a snack—you need anything?”

I shook my head and said, “I’ll just go down,” and before she could argue, I was through the living room and halfway down
the stairs to the rec room.

As I expected, Zack and Bethany were sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the TV, playing the same racing game they’d
been playing at Trent’s party. Bethany paused the game when I came into the room.

I hoisted myself up on the washing machine, which sat just a few feet from the TV stand, and crossed my legs at the ankles,
casually kicking the machine softly with my heels—
bong, bong, bong—
just as I’d done a billion times over the past seventeen years.

“Who’s winning?” I asked.

“We just got started,” Bethany said. “You want in?” She held her controller up for me.

“Nah,” I said. “I just wanted to talk. About Colorado.”

They exchanged glances… again… as they’d done so much lately—as if anything they might have to say about me has already been
said and they didn’t need to waste anyone’s time saying it again. “Yeah?” Bethany said, pressing the button to un-pause the
game. The basement was awash with the sound of cars zipping around a racetrack.

“Yeah,” I said, and took a deep breath. There would be no easy way to say this. I had to just come out with it. “I was sort
of wondering if Cole could come with us.”