Fall From Love (2 page)

“Fine, I tried. And
just so you know, I love you more than anything, but I don’t know how much more
of this I can stand. It’s been months and you’re still shutting me out. You’re
shutting everyone out. I want to be here for you, but you have to let me!”

Even after her
little rant is over, I still don’t look at her because, deep down, what she
says is the truth, but it hurts too much to be any other way. Shutting everyone
out is the easiest way.

I can see her out
of the corner of my eye, throwing her hands up in the air. “Is this what you
want... to push away the only friend who still gives two shits about you… then
fine, you win. I give up.” She turns around, grabs her purse, and leaves,
slamming the door shut behind her. A dramatic exit… typical.

Even though that
may have been the angriest I’ve ever seen her, it’s still not enough to get me
up and running after her. I continue to stare at the T.V., totally numb to what
has just taken place. The old me would have run out after her if something like
this had happened. Now, my heart is numb to just about everything, and nothing
seems to faze me.

About a minute
passes and the front door swings open again and Jenna comes back through it
with the same urgency that she left with.
Maybe she forgot her bitch pills
,
I think to myself.

“Nope. Not gonna do
it. Not gonna let you shut me out. Get your ass off that couch and into the
shower. Wash off that three day old nastiness, style that beautiful brown hair
of yours, put on that copper eye shadow that plays up your killer green eyes,
and put on one of those hot outfits you used to wear that made every guy drool
and every girl jealous you were born!” She finishes her outburst, exhales
loudly, and points towards my bathroom.

I stare at her, but
I don’t answer. It’s not that I’m trying to ignore her; I think my silence is
more from shock of what she just said and the look in her eyes when she said
it.

She takes a step
forward. “So help me God, Holly Ann Treadwell. I’m taking you out tonight if I
have to drag you into that shower myself.”

I flinch at her
words. The look in her eyes is beginning to scare me. I swallow hard and truly
believe that if I don’t get off the couch and into the shower, that this
argument—or whatever it is we’re having—will escalate to the physical level.
Jenna is a few inches shorter than me and to most people she may have even
looked weak—easily breakable by her tiny frame—but I know better. Not that we
have ever been in any type of physical altercation before, but I know if it
were to come to that, she could take me, hands down. Never in the three years
that I’ve known her, has she ever talked to me like this. Never has she looked
at me with such a fury in her eyes… and never have I ever been scared of her
like I am now. Slowly, without another word spoken between us, I get up, walk
right past her and into the bathroom.

❧

It takes me an hour
to get ready. I shower, dry my hair, and put on a minimal amount of makeup. It
takes me trying on five different outfits before I finally find one that I’m
comfortable with. My attire for the past three months has been nothing more
than sweatpants and t-shirts so there is no way I can go back to one of the
hot
outfits Jenna requested.

When I finally
emerge, her back is facing me and she’s twirling a piece of her long auburn
hair. After turning around, she smiles at me, seemingly pleased with my choice
of jeans, cream turtleneck, and brown leather, knee-high boots.

“You look
beautiful,” she says.

“Thanks.” The right
side of my mouth lifts, threatening a smile. “Just so you know, you’re going
down as the worst best friend in the history of best friends and you’re a
bitch,” I tell her, only half joking.

She half gasps,
half laughs. “Damn, is that a sign of the old Holly coming through? You made a
joke, called me a bitch, and actually put some feeling behind it.” Her
sarcastic demeanor makes my half smile turn into a full one.

She gasps again,
but this time she grabs her chest in a dramatic fashion. “Oh, my God. It’s a
smile. An actual smile. Not one of those cutesy, bullshit, fake smiles you’ve
been giving me lately. No, that was a true, genuine smile. You know, I think
that I’m gonna have to be a bitch more often if this is the reaction I get for
yelling at you and treating you like crap, expect more of it.”

My eyes narrow and
I give her a playful scowl. “Don’t push it.”

She wraps her arms
around me, squeezing me tight. “It’s good to have a piece of you back, Holls.”

❧

We pull up to
Sterling’s and I take a deep breath, trying to prepare myself for my first
night out in months. On the outside the building looks the same, but I already
know that the inside will feel different. He won’t be there, holding me in his
arms, telling me how beautiful I look or how good my skin smells. He won’t be
there, kissing me good luck before I get on stage. And, he won’t be there,
telling me how amazing my voice sounds after I get off stage.

“Hey, if things get
too heavy, or you’re not having a good time, we’re out, okay?” Jenna assures,
putting the car in park.

“Okay.” I take
another deep breath in and blow it out, trying to calm my nerves.

We walk in and the
music that’s bouncing off the walls consumes me. The large, dimly lit room
still looks the same; it’s as if nothing has changed. My eyes reach over to the
right and I scan the bar that’s basked in different colors from the neon signs
hanging on the wall behind it. Jenna turns to smile at me and my heart feels
like it’s going to explode through my chest as we squeeze our way through the
crowds. I see a few familiar faces and most of them stare at me with wide eyes
and mouths agape. With each step I take, I realize that coming here was a
mistake and I’m not ready to handle this—the people, the emotions, the memories
of happy times. So many images swirl around in my mind and I try to block them
out and concentrate on something else—anything else.
Music, Holly. Just
listen to the music.

“Holly?!” I hear a
shrill voice call my name and I turn around, hoping it’s not Becca. I just
don’t think I can deal with her right now. “Oh, my gosh, it’s really you. It’s
so good to see you. I’ve missed you so much.” Becca hugs me hard, but my arms
hang limp at my sides. “You look awesome, by the way. Have you done something
with your hair?” Her gaze drifts over my hair before meeting my eyes. “It
looks… I don’t know, darker or something,” she says. Her high pitched tone
hasn’t changed one bit. It’s still the same one that could easily be mistaken
for a ten-year-old girl getting a puppy for her birthday.

“No, I haven’t done
anything to it,” I say, my voice flat.

“Gosh, I’ve missed
you all summer.”

“Yeah, um, I’ve
just been busy.”

“Can you believe
that school’s already starting back again? Summer went by way too fast. Come
sit over here by me. We have so much to catch up on.” She grabs my arm and
begins to pull me away from Jenna.

Before I even have
a chance to protest, a hard tug pulls me back in the opposite direction. “Nope,
she stays with me,” Jenna says, giving me a wink and a smile. “Sorry, Becca,
she’s my date tonight.” Jenna’s arm flies around my shoulder, almost in a
protective embrace.

“Oh, okay.” Becca
looks at Jenna and then back to me. “I’ll catch up with you later, then.” She
frowns and turns to walk away. I glance over to Jenna and give her an
appreciative look, hoping she knows how much I love her right now.

“You know, the next
time I’m feeling a little down, I need to see if Becca will sell me some of
that perky-pick-me-up juice she must drink. She’s always so...
bubbly
,”
Jenna says, smiling at me.

I laugh... a real,
honest laugh and it feels good. Really good.

It’s not that I
don’t like Becca or don’t want to talk to her. The two of us have been friends
since freshman year, and we are both Journalism majors so we have a lot of the
same classes. I just don’t think I can stand her bubbly personality right now
or the possible question and answer session she may have had planned for me.
Questions like: How am I holding up? What have I been doing to keep myself
busy? Things I don’t want to talk about with anyone; not to my parents or even
Jenna.

“So, what’s it
gonna be? Vodka and cranberry or dirty martini?” Jenna asks, pulling me from my
thoughts.

I grimace. “Uh,
it’s been a while; I think I’ll just start with a beer.”

“Whatever you say,
date
.
Two beers coming right up.” Jenna smiles and walks towards the bar.

The moment she
leaves my side, I begin to feel anxious. I’m scared that someone will notice me
standing alone, think that I’m actually lonely, and come talk to me.

Not even a full
minute passes before I hear a deep voice speak up from behind me. “I thought
that was you.”

I glance over my
shoulder and see Joe standing there with a large smile on his face.

“Hi, Joe.” I
stretch my lips out, trying my best to give him a smile. It’s actually really
good to see him. His sweet, kind eyes look tired and haggard, though. Normally,
I would have asked him if everything is okay, but even with him, I’m not up for
conversation. Joe is the owner of Sterling’s and is actually the one who first
convinced me to sing up on stage.

He was walking past
our booth one night and had heard me singing along to a band up on stage. He
stopped and told me that it should’ve been me up there singing that song. I
smiled politely, but told him that it made me too nervous to have all of those
people staring at me.

“Don’t waste
your life being scared; you never know when you’ll get another chance.”
His words echo in my head as I stand there staring at
him.

“How’ve you been?
Haven’t seen you in here since—” he pauses for a moment and looks towards the
ground. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, it has,” I
answer.

“We gonna hear that
beautiful voice of yours tonight?” He looks back up at me and I shake my head.

“Not tonight, Joe.”
And probably not ever again
.

“When you’re ready
then.” He smiles and walks away, leaving a sick feeling in my stomach.

I glance around,
now desperate for a drink and my protective best friend to come back. When I
finally spot her, I see her hanging all over some guy at the bar. She’s
standing in the middle of his straddled legs and whispering in his ear. It
doesn’t really surprise me that much. Jenna has always been really flirty, but
I can’t help feeling the awkwardness and ache in my chest as I stare at them,
so I turn away and look back towards the stage.

It’s a couple hours
into the night, Jenna looks like she’s having fun and that makes me happy more
than anything else. She did so much for me this summer and I owe her so much.
Actually, I owe her more than that... I owe her my life.

I have to admit, in
a small way, I’m actually enjoying myself, too. What I enjoy the most is
watching the singers up on stage; a part of me envying them and another part of
me wishing that I had the desire to sing again. Better yet, wishing I had the
desire to do anything again.

A tall guy with
tattoos and a shaved head finishes up his rendition of “Wanted Dead or Alive”
by Bon Jovi and the crowd goes wild. I feel my heart pick up speed from the
energy in the room and, without even having to try, a large grin spreads across
my face. He nods his head and takes a quick bow before exiting the stage. A
Pearl Jam song blares over the speakers and I know that I have a few minutes
before the next singer is up.

“Bathroom!” I yell
over the music, looking over at Jenna.

“I’ll go get us
another drink!” she yells back, bobbing her head to the music as she scoots out
of the booth.

After fighting my
way through the crowds, I sigh when I see the line is overflowing out into the
hall but I’m not sure why I thought it would be any different. This is how it
always is at Sterling’s on open mic night. I take my place in line and lean
back up against the wall, listening to the energetic girls in front of me. They
are both tall, both have long, perfectly styled, blonde hair that hangs far
below their shoulders, and both of them are beautiful. On a good night, a night
when I actually tried to look good, I could’ve played in the same ballpark as
them, but tonight I would have barely been considered for the B leagues.

“Did you see the
way Dean looked at me? I think he was undressing me with his eyes,” Barbie #1,
on the left, gushes.

Barbie #2 nods her
head, way too many times. “Totally, you are so getting lucky with him tonight.”

“Really, you think
I should sleep with him?” Barbie #1 asks, biting her lip. I want to roll my
eyes at her pitiful attempt to be clueless, but I refrain.

“He’s hot, he’s in
med school, and you’ve been on three dates,” her friend answers, but quickly
follows up with, “but only if you’re ready.”

Lord. If I ever had
a friend that listed any of those three reasons for me to sleep with a guy, I’d
likely kick her ass. Jenna would kick
my
ass if I wanted to sleep with a
guy before dating him for at least six months, had met his parents, and had her
approval. She flipped when she found out that I lost my virginity to Adam after
almost eight months of dating. In the few years I’ve known her, she has always
been very protective like that. Sometimes it can be annoying, but overall, I
like knowing that she always has my back.