Deep Blue (Blue Series) (7 page)

Reese answers the door to her apartment in black skinny jeans, heels, and a designer sequined top.

“Bow-chica-bow-wow,” I singsong. “Going out?”

She drags me inside. “Yes, and you are too.”

“Actually—” I stop in the middle of her simple living room, consisting of a plain, muted brown couch, a coffee table, and a television. It always amazes me that someone as fashionable as Reese lives in a place without flair, but her roommate is down-to-earth and Reese’s aesthetic obsessions tend toward clothing and accessories. “—I was planning on finding Eric, then crashing early.”

Reese’s roommate Elena waves to me from the kitchen, her dark, wavy hair pulled into a messy bun on the top of her head. She’s in flannel pajama bottoms and a ribbed tank top, stirring something that smells like beef stew in a large pot. My mouth waters. I wouldn’t mind throwing on flannel PJs, forgetting this whole confronting Eric business, and joining her.

Reese studies my face. “What’s going on? I figured when you asked to stay here instead of with Eric, something was up.”

“To be honest, I don’t know what’s going on.” Which means there’s a strong possibility I’ll be making a butter pecan run in the near future.

“Okay.” Her eyes narrow. “So what’s your plan?”

“Find him and figure it out?”
Then eat my weight in butter pecan?

I’m pretty sure I know what Eric’s going to say, but I still need to hear it. When your boyfriend doesn’t call for a month, doesn’t return your calls, and doesn’t appear to care whether you breathe—what was that ingenious book title?—oh yeah,
He’s Just Not That Into You
. There’s no sense in pretending everything’s okay, because it’s not.

Reese drums her multicolored nails against her lips—
are those rhinestones on the tips?
“What do you think about going to a bar?”

My upper lip curls. “Umm—”

“I only suggest it because I’ve seen Eric out a few times. Some of my co-workers have run into him at the bars too.”

Okay, that’s weird. I have no flippin’ clue where Reese works on campus. She’s vague about it. “Your co-workers know him?”

She waves her hand absently. “Never mind that. The point is, you might have better luck running him to ground at a bar.”

And doesn’t that just sound depressing? I have to hunt my boyfriend down to get him to dump me. “I guess that’s as good a plan as any.”

A sad smile crosses her face. “Let’s try Big Billy’s. It’s the new hotspot on Friday nights.” She scans my outfit. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but … did you bring anything else to wear?”

I glance at the baggy jeans and T-shirt I threw on for the drive. “Are you trying to tell me I look like crap?”

“If things are as bad as I think they are between you and Eric, you should look hot. Make him see what he’s missing.”

Hot.
Jaeger makes me feel hot, and desirable, but my boyfriend doesn’t. Something’s wrong with that picture. “Okay.” My voice comes out weak and sad. When did I become this broken, pitiful thing?

“So, what did you pack?”

I pick at my T-shirt.

She shakes her head and grabs my wrist. “Come on, we’ll raid my closet. My mom just sent a batch of new clothes from Rodeo Drive.”

I forgot how rich Reese’s Hollywood parents are. This should be interesting.

An hour later, I’m dressed in a black mini, a butterfly-style top, and five-inch heels, entering Big Billy’s. My old college town is small, but you’d be surprised how dressed up people get. The clothes I’m wearing are mild compared to the short, sequined ensembles blinding me.

Reese and I squeeze through to the packed bar. We order Purple Hooters and beers, and Reese lifts her shot glass. “Cheers!”

I gulp down the grape-flavored concoction, chased by beer that tastes like piss. There’s a special on tap and I’m trying to conserve money for graduate school.

It isn’t long before Eric walks in. He’s dressed in faded jeans and his favorite vintage 2006 World Cup T-shirt with an open short-sleeved button-down. He’s surrounded by a group of friends.

I don’t feel the urge to run and hug him, which is what I would normally do. Yes, he’s been shitty and inattentive, to say the least. I’m not happy about that. I don’t like the limbo our relationship is in, but I’ve been telling myself that my attraction to Jaeger is because I haven’t seen Eric. Well, I’m sitting here, staring at my boyfriend, and I don’t feel anything stronger than fondness.

What the hell?

Without the bond of school connecting Eric and me, it’s like there’s no anchor and nothing is left. Was our relationship really that shallow?

Reese stares at me from across the booth. She glances from me to Eric, but she doesn’t say anything when I don’t go to him. In the meantime, Eric approaches the bar with his friends and immediately turns to a leggy blonde in dressy shorts that ride up her crotch, while his friends wait for their orders.

Eric leans in and touches the girl’s thigh. A sharp burn sears my gut. Eric’s not here to help a friend hook-up, he’s flirting to score. He could have broken up with me at any point and moved on, if that’s what he wanted. Instead, he dragged things out.

Suddenly, I’m not sure what we shared together. I thought trust, at the very least, but this is bad. Is it worse than me flirting with Jaeger? I don’t know. I question everything—my actions, Eric’s actions—but after the effort I made to have this confrontation, the idea of walking up to Eric right now makes me want to hurl. I’d rather leave.

I don’t.

Eric and his friends take a booth a few tables over. He’s smiling at something one of his friends says as I approach. The friend sees me first. He elbows Eric in the arm and Eric lifts his head, the smile dying on his face.

My heart squeezes. Despite everything, I thought Eric cared for me. He seems shocked to see me, yes, but also annoyed. Like my presence has ruined his night, and that feels like shit.

This is not love or caring. I don’t deserve whatever this is.

Eric slides out of the booth and grabs my wrist. “Let’s talk outside.”

He’s walking too fast. I yank from his hold and he glares at me as though I’m being a defiant child. The bouncer at the door stamps our hands and we exit Big Billy’s.

Eric strides to a park bench at the far end of the block, as if he’s afraid someone will see us. He sits and waits for me to do the same. “What’s up?” The tone of his voice implies he wants to know why I’m here, not how I’m doing.

“Seriously, Eric? I should ask you that question.”

He lets out a tense sigh, leans on his knees, and drops his head in his hands. “I’m sorry. I meant to say something when I visited you in Tahoe … Fuck, Cali …” He looks up. “I chickened out.”

Does he think our relationship will fade away into the ether like fog? Son of a bitch. I’m not leaving till he says it. “Well, I’m here. Spit it out, Eric.”

He tenses, like he’s bracing for a storm. “I—I want to break up.”

“No shit?” I go heavy on the sarcasm, because what the fuck? Any sort of confession that weekend he spent in Lake Tahoe would have been better than dragging things out for as long as he has. “And you thought avoiding me would be better than just saying so? A word of advice, Eric. Give the girl you’re dating a little respect and break up with her
before
you move on.”

“I haven’t,” he says quickly. “Moved on. Not really. I want to, though.” He looks down and sighs heavily. “Look, Cali, you’re leaving, and I’ll find a job and all, but you’re going to Harvard to become a lawyer. We’re just … different. I can’t see us together.”

All of a sudden, memories like missiles blast my gray matter, as though this is the end of my life instead of the end of a relationship … Eric getting trashed and leaving me at a bar to find my way home … Eric, more times than I can count, putting his friends ahead of spending time with me … Eric never introducing me to his family.

Why didn’t he ever introduce me to his family?

How in the world could I have imagined we had a good relationship? Was I delusional? My perspective is turned upside down … or maybe right side up. Eric and I shared good times, and he had his sweet moments, but this is some important shit I’ve blocked, because of what? Arrogance? Naivety?
Avoidance
?

Holy shit. What have I been doing? “Good-bye, Eric.” I start to walk away.

“Wait. I—we can still be friends.”

I don’t know how to read the expression on his face. It’s not hopeful—more like resigned, as though he doesn’t want to be labeled the bad guy.

“I don’t think so.” A part of me hurts at the idea of never seeing or talking to Eric again, but I can’t be his friend. First of all, he’s a shitty friend, considering how he broke up with me and thinking back to some of the things he’s done. Second, I need distance from him and the mess that was our relationship.

Eric’s jaw drops slightly, but he makes no move to stop me as I head for the bar. Reese is waiting with another Purple Hooter. I don’t feel like drinking, but I down the shot, because she got it to cheer me up. She doesn’t ask what happened, but the look in her eyes says she already knows.

Eric and his friends leave promptly after Eric returns. I stay as long as I can without making it obvious I don’t want to be there, which lasts about twenty minutes.

Reese’s blond Viking boyfriend gives us a ride home, and after watching trashy TV for a couple of hours with Reese and her roommate, the snot and tears and choking hiccups come. I silently cry myself to sleep alone on their couch.

The return trip to Tahoe is therapeutic. I cry until I’m dehydrated. I haven’t decided if I’m weeping over the drama with Eric or my own stupidity about our relationship. A bit of both, I think.

With a stop at a small sandwich shop in Placerville, I splash water on my face. My turkey club is soggy and tastes like cardboard, my drink like sugar water, but I chew and swallow and get back into the car. Before turning the ignition, I call Gen.

“There you are,” she says. “How did it go?”

“He dumped me.” My voice comes out strong, but there’s a slight quiver.

Eric and I needed to break up, but I still care about him. Now that it’s over, I know I’ll miss him. Not in an
I’m in love
kind of way, but in a
This is the guy I spent the last two years with
way.

A moment of silence passes. “Cali—I—wow. I’m sorry. I know that’s what people say to make other people feel better—I’ve heard it enough times these past few months—but in this case it’s the truth. He didn’t deserve you.”

“I know. Now.”

She lets out a soft sigh. “Where are you? I could find someone to take me—”

“I’m fine. Just leaving Placerville.”

“Okay.” Her voice sounds hesitant, and then, “Oh, no.”

“What?”

“We told Jaeger and Mason we’d go to the party tonight. But don’t worry. I’ll text Mason and tell him we can’t make it.”

The part of me that hurts from rejection—which makes no sense, I wanted things over in the end as much as Eric did, but there it is—wants to crawl into bed and wallow. The other part, the part of me that encouraged Gen to get back out there after her breakup, insists we go to this party. “No, we’ll go.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“It’ll be good for us.”

“Don’t do this for me. I’m fine.”

“I want to. I need to get out.” Out of my head—away from the self-pity.

The steps up to Mason’s townhouse are located just down from the Heavenly Ski Resort. Dark, abandoned lift chairs glint in the moonlight. Voices and music carry in the evening air.

Gen knocks and steps back, waiting. She’s wearing cute jeans and platform sandals. I’m in non-ass-cheek-baring dressy shorts, flats, and a light, fitted sweater.

A minute passes. I shrug at her. “Try opening it.”

She twists the knob and the door swings wide on oiled hinges. The sound of music and talking elevates to ear-blasting proportions. Bodies are everywhere.

I scan until I see Jaeger’s head above all the rest. He’s in the middle of the room, talking animatedly.

That’s weird. He’s usually pretty subdued.

Warmth spreads along my limbs. I want to be close to him, to listen to his deep rumbly voice, to get lost in the forest green of his eyes. Arms linked, heads slightly bowed, Gen and I merge with the crowd, charging through like a pair of mini-linebackers.

Jaeger glances up. A broad smile sweeps his face, sending my heart into hyperdrive. Within seconds, he’s by my side, dragging me to his solid chest and draping an arm over Gen’s shoulders. “Ladies! You made it.”

This is where I want to be. Attraction aside, there’s something about Jaeger that’s so comforting and natural, it’s like I should have been here all along.

Jaeger settles us under each of his muscled arms and guides us toward the kitchen, illuminated like a beacon within the mood-darkened apartment.

The volume in the kitchen is deafening, most likely an artifact of our late arrival. People grow louder the more drunk they get and it’s after midnight. I got little sleep the night before, so a nap was mandatory, but it made us late.

Jaeger pours two beers from the keg and nods to a corner in the dining area where his friends are. The crowd parts for him as he walks over, Gen and I tucked close behind.

Mason’s hair and clothes are rumpled, as if it’s been a rough night. Adam stands beside Breanna, but she doesn’t look happy. It could have something to do with the fact that Adam is chatting up the girl next to him.

God, I’m sick of shitty boyfriends.

Mason spots Gen and his slightly glassy eyes light up. “You made it!” He grabs her waist and gives her a tight hug, taking a deliberate step back to run his gaze down her body. “And you look really pretty.”

A flush spreads over Gen’s cheeks.

Nothing like Gen flustered over male attention to put a smile on my face.

Mason steps closer and drapes an arm over her shoulders. Oh, yeah, he wants her. Not that I doubted it, but with Mason in what I presume is a drunken state, it’s obvious.

Gen subtly leans away, which is baffling. Mason’s a little tipsy, but he’s hot and sweet. She should be all over that.