Dylan and Taylor (Soul Mates 101 Series) (25 page)

“That’s what you do when you love someone. You don’t throw them away as soon as they do wrong, or you’ll never have anyone. I’m sure you would’ve committed a screw up eventually. I like you, so I hope you’ll give her another chance, and that’s the last I’m going to say about that.

“I have something for you. Tory said Taylor ordered it before you two had it out. Since I was coming by, I thought I’d bring it. It wasn’t easy finding your address, but I have my ways.” Vincent smiles. I sure hope he doesn’t have a hit man.

“Taylor has no idea I’m here, and she’ll probably be mad that she didn’t get to give you this, but I was afraid you wouldn’t give her the chance.”

Vincent picks up a case setting next to him and pulls a guitar out. It’s the Les Paul I’ve been saving for, and it has his signature on it. He hands it to me, and I feel like a little kid at Christmas.

I look it over slowly. “It’s cool that Taylor did this for me. You said she ordered this before we had our fight?”

“Yes, I guess one of your friends mentioned you were saving up for it.”

“Damn, this is nice. She really was trying to help me. I’ve been a chicken when it comes to taking a chance at playing guitar. I know she was just trying to give me the nudge I needed.” I admire every inch of the guitar, feeling my way along it.

“I should’ve appreciated that she’s my biggest fan and forgiven her. I miss her like crazy. I’m sorry that I’ve hurt her all these days.”

“Well, you can find her at the apartment.”

I look at him confused. “What do you mean the apartment?”

“She didn’t get a chance to tell you, did she?”

“Tell me what?”

“She signed a lease for an apartment the day I came to watch you play. She was supposed to tell you, but I guess she didn’t get a chance. She was determined you two were going to be together every night, and I sure as hell don’t want you sleeping with her in my house.” He smirks at me.

I can’t believe she did that for us. Why hasn’t she told me? Probably because I’ve been an ass, pushing her away every day. I feel even more guilt knowing she’s been alone in the apartment. My stomach feels queasy.

“I have to go see her. Where is it?” I ask urgently.

Drown Your Sorrows

Taylor

I’m too depressed this morning to go to school. Now that I know Dylan wants nothing more to do with me, I can barely breathe, pain flowing through me like a fast moving stream. It’s taking everything in my power to get through the minutes without him. I just can’t bear it.

All the bad shit I experienced from my childhood comes to the surface, and Sam’s vile words and violence scratches its way out. The trauma my parents put me through swirls through my mind like a funnel cloud. I get one of the bottles of vodka and start doing shots.

It’s before noon, and this is a pathetic first for me. I seldom drink, but I recall the first time I did a shot. I was seven years old. After watching people do it so many times, I was curious and wanted to mimic the grownups. I’ll never forget that burn in my throat, coughing until my eyes watered, but I also remember liking how it made me feel.

I started sneaking drinks when the bad pictures in my head were too much. A few years later, Tory caught me and wanted to try it, and that’s when I stopped. I was old enough to know better by then, and I didn’t want either of us to end up like Mom and Dad. Little did I know, the alcohol was the least of their problems.

Feeling the burn takes me back. I just need to escape and sleep for once, so I drink and drink, but it doesn’t help. I’m not going to be able to put my family off much longer. I’ll text them later and stall for one more day, or they’ll be beating down my door.

Afternoon comes, and I open the second big bottle of vodka. Whoa, I’ve had a lot to drink, so why can’t I sleep? I’ve never felt so alone in my life. I’ll be restless forever with the other half of me missing. I still believe we’re soul mates, so if Dylan never sees it, then the rest of my life is going to be as lonely as it is now.

That calls for a few more drinks for sure. Walking is becoming quite difficult, so it’s a good thing there’s no furniture in this place. I’d be running into all of it. I begin giggling at the thought, but then I fall to the floor and sob. No one wants me. I am obviously still the bitch everyone said I was.

I don’t even have the shot glass anymore, and the thought of getting up is exhausting, so I take a few big gulps from the bottle. Burn baby burn. My phone goes off, and I see it’s a text from Hannah.

Hannah:
Hey, girl, how are you? I’m worried about you.

Me:
I peachy, chick. I have a friend here. Her name is vodka. Ha ha!

Hannah:
Taylor, are you drinking alone at your apartment?

Me:
No, like I said, I have a friend.

Hannah:
I’m coming over there later, so let me in. Please stop drinking, Taylor.

Me:
I might take some sleepi pills. I haven’t been sleepin, yo know?

Hannah:
Don’t take those, Taylor! You need to stop drinking, and don’t take any pills. I’ll be over soon. You’re not even sober enough to text.

Me:
I haven’t slept for days, and I’m tryi not think about Dylan. It’s too painfl.

I drag myself up off the floor and find the sleeping pills. I take a few and chase them with vodka. I need to fall asleep, so my heart will stop aching for Dylan. I must get his beautiful face out of my head, that haunting smile. I text him.

Me:
I’ll forev be alone. You’re my soul mate, my other half. Can’t be replaced. Luv you. No sunshine, only darkness.

I fall to the floor, vodka splashing from the bottle. I cry, sipping between sobs. I think it’s evening now. I feel sleep coming on, but not before I feel the vomit violently escaping.

Hannah

I get Taylor’s last text and call Chelsea. She’s probably in class so I leave her a voicemail. “Chels, Taylor’s drunk at her apartment and telling me she’s going to take sleeping pills. I told her not to take anything. I’m on a break from class, but after I get my assignment, I can leave early to check on her. Text me if you can go.”

I get back to class and get a text from Chelsea.

Chelsea:
Text me when you’re ready, and I’ll meet you at the car.

She meets me about thirty minutes later, and we take off to check on Taylor. “I can’t get her to answer. Do you think we should call an ambulance?” Chelsea asks.

“She told me she might go to sleep, so maybe she’s just sleeping it off.” We get to the gate at her place, and she still won’t answer our calls. The guard tries to call Taylor, but he can’t reach her, either.

“Sorry, ladies. I can’t just let you in,” the guard says.

“You have to let us. Our friend might be hurt.”

“I can’t, sorry. You’re only option is to call the police and ambulance to check on her.”

Chelsea looks at me while she bites her thumbnail.

“We should call Brenda and Vincent.”

“We don’t have time, and I bet they don’t have a key yet. She’ll just have to be pissed. She should’ve answered her phone,” I say, snippy before I dial 911. We wait anxiously for the authorities. When they arrive, the guard lets us follow them to her apartment.

Even after the police pound on the door, Taylor never answers. Her vehicle is here, so they decide to bust the door open. The cops make us wait at the door, but as soon as I hear the commotion, Chelsea and I storm in.
NO!
There lies Taylor in the middle of the empty room, unresponsive and covered with vomit. A bottle of vodka lay on the carpet next to her.

Chelsea and I start screaming, so the cops usher us back outside. I frantically pull out my phone and call Brett.

“Taylor’s hurt! I have to call her parents so please get hold of Dylan, and meet us at the hospital,” I blurt out between cries.

Dylan

Vincent’s explaining to me how to get to Taylor’s apartment. I’d rather surprise her than call. Cody comes running into the family room with an alarmed look on his face. “Brett just called. He said Taylor’s hurt and is being rushed to the hospital. I don’t know anything else.”

“Shit, let’s go.” I jump up and run to my room to get my phone. Vincent and Cody are waiting by the door when I get there.

“I’ll drive,” Vincent says. He peels out of the parking spot and takes off down the road. He calls Brenda on the way and is only on the phone for a minute.

“They’re on their way, and she just hung up with Hannah. All she knows is that Taylor overdosed.”

I call Hannah in a fit of panic. “Hannah, what the hell happened?”

“All I know is she drank a ton of vodka and took sleeping pills. I think it was an accidental overdose.”

“No, this isn’t happening.”

“Dylan, just get there. I have to make more calls.” Hannah hangs up.

“This is all my fault,” I say repeatedly in the car.

Hannah and Chelsea are the only ones in the ER when we run in. They jump up and hug Vincent.

“What was she doing drinking, Hannah?” I ask angrily.

She throws her hands on her hips. “Why do you think she was drinking, Dylan? She’s devastated over you. I found out she was drunk this afternoon from texting with her, so Chelsea and I went to check on her after class.”

“Why the hell didn’t any of you tell me she was living alone, and why didn’t you call me when you knew how drunk she was?” I ask, yelling.

“This is not my fault, so don’t yell at me! You haven’t wanted anything to do with her, remember?” Hannah cries out.

Vincent steps between us. “Stop. Don’t start blaming each other. If this is anyone’s fault, it’s mine. This is the only way she’s ever seen anyone deal with their pain. Self-medicating or shutting people out is all she ever witnessed from her mom and me.”

I start crying and pull Hannah into a hug. “Hannah, I’m sorry. I’m terrified I’m going to lose her.”

“I know, Dylan. I’m sorry, too.”

Brenda and Tory show up next, followed by all of our friends. I pull out my phone to text Nate, and I see I missed a text from Taylor in the afternoon. I scream when I read it.
I can’t believe what I’ve done.

Vincent pleads with the staff to let him go back, but they tell him Taylor isn’t stable, and he’ll have to wait. I can’t stop pacing or crying as pangs of guilt and anguish pummel me.

“What if she doesn’t make it, Brett? I’ll have killed her. I’ve pushed her away every day. I drove her to this.”

“We have to think positive, Dylan.”

“I was getting ready to go to her apartment to get her back when we got the call. She told me a couple of days ago that she didn’t think I loved her, and I never told her I did. The last thing she thought was that I didn’t love her!”

“Dylan, this is not your fault. You didn’t force her to do it. Man, I haven’t seen you for almost a week and you look rough. Have you slept at all?”

“You know I can’t sleep without her.” I see a nurse approach Vincent and Brenda, so I run to their side. She tells them that she’ll take them back to see Taylor, so Vincent promises to come back out when he knows something.

Thirty minutes later he comes through the doors, and I can see he’s been crying. He grabs Tory and hugs her.

“She’s in bad shape. The doctor said she has severe alcohol poisoning. She had a seizure when they got her here, and they have a machine breathing for her.

“The doctor said Taylor aspirated vomit into her lungs, and that’s actually one of the things they’re most worried about right now. They’re also doing tests to see if she has brain damage.”

“Do they think she’s going to make it?” I ask anxiously.

“They said it’s too soon to know, Dylan. I’m going to take Tory back to see her, and then you can go back.”

I stand frozen, watching the doors close behind Vincent and Tory, feeling as if they closed on my world. I walk back over to my friends and sit next to Cody. I feel his hand on my shoulder when I lean over and lay my forehead on my arms that are resting on my knees.

“I can’t believe we’re going through this again. It’s messed up,” Cody says.

I look up and see that he has his free hand inside Jasmine’s. These women have become our whole world.

Nate

I brake a record getting to Nashville. My parents would kill me if they knew how fast I was going. They’re already mad that I left the house so quickly, telling them I’d be back Sunday. It’s Thursday, so they’re upset that I’m going to miss another day of school tomorrow.

Dylan needs me, and I already feel a connection to Taylor after meeting her. I would go stir-crazy if I stayed home. I fly into the ER waiting room and hug Dylan as soon as I get to him. I don’t know what comes over me, but my eyes get watery. “This is all my fault. I told her I bought you the sleeping pills. I gave her the idea to use them.”

“This isn’t your fault, Nate. The alcohol is what’s hurt her more than anything, and it wouldn’t be your fault, anyway. None of this would’ve happened if I’d forgiven her sooner like you told me to.”

“Is she going to be OK?” I ask.

Dylan looks me in the eyes, and I actually feel some of his pain. “They don’t know. Vincent was at the house when we got the call, and he’d just made me realize what an idiot I’ve been, but it may be too late for me to tell her.”

I sit next to him, tapping my foot and chewing on my bottom lip while we wait. I’m already aware that it’s going to be a long few days. Vincent walks through some doors with his arms around Tory. Damn, I can’t stand seeing how sad she looks after how happy she was the other day.

She comes walking toward me, looking right into my eyes, so I stand to greet her. She wraps her arms around my waist, catching me completely off guard. I glance up and see Dylan and Vincent going through the double doors, so I put my arm around her, and cup the back of her head with my other hand, pulling her tight against me.

She rests her head on my chest, and I close my eyes, noticing how her little body fits nicely against mine.
Shit.
Why is she having this effect on me? I don’t know how long we stand there, but I snap out of the trance I’m in and see all the guys and girls staring at me. The dudes all have smirks on their faces.