Fix You: Bash and Olivia (3 page)

A shadow of despair crossed her face, and tears filled her eyes. Before they could spill over, she blinked them away and tipped her chin up to meet my gaze again. "I have a lot of thinking to do. I'm very aware of that. It might sound like an excuse, but my family is going through…some stuff right now, and Andy and I have been together since the end of our senior year of high school. Our parents have a lot of history together." She drummed out a nervous beat onto the bar. "This came to a head at the worst possible time, is all. I know I have to take a stand, and I will, but I have a lot to consider."

I was in no position to judge her there. My own circumstances had made me do countless things I regretted over the past five years. Better to let her rationalize her choices and make her own decisions than to get more involved in something that had nothing to do with me.  Too bad my stupid mouth didn't get the memo.

"He could kill you, you know." I didn't pull any punches or try to soften the blow, and she froze at the starkness of my words.

She shook her head furiously, denials coming hard and fast. "No, no, you've got it all wrong. He's almost never like that, and if you weren't there, I think he probably would've calm—"

"Hit you," I said baldly, locking gazes with her so she could see how serious I was. "He probably would have hit you. I've been hit enough to know the look. And as big as he is and as small as you are?" I glanced at her slight frame, clocking her at around five two, one-twenty. "He could easily have broken your jaw or worse."

She stammered and then closed her mouth with a snap. Maybe I was actually getting to her. The thought gave me the push I needed to keep going. Losing my job wouldn't be for nothing if I could convince this girl that she needed to cut this asshole loose. "What's the worst thing that will happen if you dump him?" I asked softly, saying a silent prayer she wouldn't utter the four words that earned the scorn of every Maury Povich watcher in the free world.

But I LOVE him.

To her credit, she didn't. Instead, she uttered three that weren’t all that much better.

"You don't understand."

She was right about that. I took in her two-hundred-dollar purse and the slim diamond bracelet she wore so casually on her wrist. I didn't understand how someone in her situation, a college student at a fantastic school, with parents who could clearly afford to pay for it, would have a good enough reason to stay with a person like Andy whatever the fuck his last name was.

"I don't think we have anything else to talk about, Olivia. My break is over in"—I peered up at the clock hanging over the bar—"eight minutes. I've got to eat, so if you don't mind?" I gave her a tight smile and faced my food again, hoping she would take the hint and leave so I could throw it out. For some reason, just the thought of it sitting in my gut like a rock made my stomach hurt.

It took her a few seconds, and I wondered if I was going to have to be even more direct, but finally she stood.

"I hope you're able to find another position soon, Bash," she murmured, sounding miserable. I kept my eyes on my plate and didn't look up until the door jingled behind her.

It took everything I had not to watch her go.

Chapter Three

Olivia

"So this is happening, for real. Like, you seriously aren't going to meet us?"

Echo's screech was so loud it was like she was in the next room rather than thousands of miles away. I pulled the phone away from my ear until it sounded like she was finished bitching at me.

When all was quiet, I spoke into the receiver. "I’m just not feeling well at all. " Which was what I told her to get her to take me home the night before, too. It was sort of true, both then and now. I was feeling pretty shitty after what had happened last night. And even shittier after my talk with Sebastian.

Bash,
I corrected myself mentally.

“Believe me, this isn't my first choice,” I added. That part was
definitely
true. In a perfect world, I wouldn’t have almost gotten choked out by my boyfriend and my family wouldn’t be facing financial ruin. Thankfully, the ticket my parents had bought me a few months before had been refundable. Going on a lavish trip while they were struggling to figure out how they might pay the mortgage for one more month wasn’t something I could do despite their protests to the contrary, and Andy’s actions the night before had sealed the deal.

I considered calling my mom to let her know that I canceled, but decided to wait another day or two. If I told them, they’d badger me to catch a later flight. Better to wait until it was too late. I loved them, but their priorities were skewed from a lifetime of having money and taking it for granted. They never imagined it could all just vanish. I still hadn’t gotten to the bottom of exactly what had happened—Dad was too busy trying to save the sinking ship and Mom was tight-lipped as usual—and I made a vow to myself to find a way to get home for a visit as soon as possible to find out.

A shiver stole over me as a dark thought I refused to bring into the light flickered through my brain before I shut it down. Investments were a tricky business and there were always risks. This was just one of those down times that would surely turn the other way soon. It was going to be fine. A rough patch, was all.

"Well, I hope you feel better, but it’s going to suck without you."

That was the first semi-nice thing Echo had said the entire ten minutes we'd been on the phone since I told her I definitely wasn’t going to be able to join them. An all-too-familiar sense of guilt washed over me. Seemed like a permanent state of being lately.

"Is Andy with you?" The low-level nausea that had been nonstop since the night before surged with a vengeance as I thought of him and the way things had ended between us.

"Yeah, he's sitting right outside at the tiki bar. You want to talk to him?" I could hear the shuffling as she stood and I was quick to stop her.

"No! No, uh, it's cool. Tell him I'll give him a ring later."

I wasn’t ready to rehash it all again and didn’t want to mislead him. Whatever Bash thought of me, I wasn’t an idiot. When Andy had called me that morning to apologize as I knew he would once he had a chance to sober up and cool off, I let him know flat out that his behavior was unacceptable. He’d been shocked when I told him I’d canceled my flight to Cabo, though. Rather than have a wrenching, emotional discussion over the phone when he was less than an hour from leaving the country, I didn’t get into it too deeply. I’d told him that I needed time away from him to think but that I would see him when he got back. He wasn’t happy, but he was feeling badly enough not to press me.

The fact was, I had no intention of staying with him. Not as his girlfriend, at least. Still, we had three years of history together and that was just the time we dated. We'd been friends since the eighth grade. That counted for something. He was sick. Not right in the head. That much I knew for sure. Whether it was from the alcohol, which I had a sneaking suspicion had ramped up to full-blown addiction, or because he had something going on internally that he hadn't talked to me about, as a friend, I felt obligated to be there for him and at least hear him out. Who knew? Maybe he was having a hard time emotionally and really needed someone to talk to. I could totally relate.

As far as the idea of continuing on as we had and getting engaged, though? That so wasn't going to happen. Not anymore.

I pushed aside the memory of him screaming in my face and instead closed my eyes to focus on happier times. I remembered his boyish smile the night we'd gone on a hayride at Jensen's Farm and then to the haunted house afterward. He'd held my hand so tightly and made sure I didn't run into any fake spider webs, knowing how much I hated them. He wasn’t a bad person. If I walked away from him now without giving him a chance to open up to me about whatever demons he was wrestling, what kind of person would that make me? What if he then turned around and hurt himself, or someone else?

Yeah, a long talk was in order. About us but also about getting Bash his job back. Once Andy got some space from it, surely he’d be reasonable.

I switched the phone to the other ear and peered around my empty dorm. I had the top end single with good amount of space. Enough for a double bed and a giant wardrobe, and even a vanity. I usually appreciated how big the room was in comparison to some of the others, but when the entire rest of the hall was empty and silent, it was kind of eerie.

I’d just vowed not to watch any scary movies for the rest of the week when Echo’s voice sounded over the line again.

"You're not still mad at him, are you?" she asked. "He told me what happened in the bathroom, and it seems to me like your little boyfriend at Shorty's overstepped his place."

A hot bolt of anger coursed through me, and the guilt for blowing her off sizzled away like drops of dew in the sun. Clearly Echo had heard a watered-down version of the story and figured that was enough to form an opinion on. That was fine with me. We’d been growing apart for months now. Not that we’d ever truly been close.

We’d met last year in an anatomy class, and had only become friends because she wanted to secure me as her lab partner. I wasn’t exactly a social butterfly, and was glad to have someone to grab coffee or hit the mall with, but it was becoming more and more obvious that she and I were destined to be the kind of friends that stuck with each other through thick only. The second she got wind of how serious my family’s financial situation was and how much it would affect my lifestyle, she'd drop me like a knockoff purse.

"It's complicated. And no, I'm not mad at him."
I'm just done,
I added silently.

My thoughts drifted back to Bash again, and my cheeks burned as I recalled the half-pitying, half-disgusted look on his face. What did I care what he thought, anyway? He didn't even know me. He wouldn't be the first person to judge me, and it never bothered me before. And still, the urge to hang up the phone and go straight back to Shorty's and explain myself further was so strong, my legs shook with it.

"Okay, well, I gotta go," Echo said before covering the phone and laughing so loud, it nearly pierced my eardrum. "Oh my God, don't you dare!" she squealed to whoever else was in the room with her. A second later, the phone disconnected and she was gone.

I set my cell on the desk in front of my bed and flopped back against the mattress. Considering the fact that my parents were about to lose their house, I wasn't about to feel sorry for myself over missing spring break. The reminder didn't make me feel even one inch less lonely, though. It wasn’t about Cabo. It was about spending the next week here and alone when the thought of being here and alone made my chest ache.

I sat up and stared out the tiny window into the darkness. There wasn't any real reason
not
to go into town tonight. I mean, I didn't even have to go to Shorty’s. I could go somewhere else and play pool or darts or something. Better than sitting around with nothing to keep me company except my depressing thoughts.

I jumped up and grabbed the brush from my vanity, taking a second to run it through my hair. With a quick glance down at my wrinkled shirt and stretched-out jeans, I made for the closet and did a quick assessment. Now that Andy wasn't here to pick a fight, maybe it was finally time to take the jean miniskirt I'd bought last summer out for a spin. It had warmed up overnight to an almost balmy sixty degrees, and it wouldn't look too out of place in late March. Especially since there wouldn't be an Echo in the room to judge me.

Nerves bubbled through me as I got ready, taking an extra minute to slick some peach gloss over my lips. Not for any reason. A girl could just want to look nice, after all. Then I was out the door.

I didn't plan to go back to Shorty's. At least, not in my brain. But my feet had a mind of their own. I almost turned back a dozen times, but didn't. In fact, nothing short of a nuclear war could've stopped me. I was compelled to see him. To explain why I hadn't dumped Andy that very night. To make him understand that I wasn’t some weak sucker who couldn’t see what was right in front of her.

And to see his face again,
a little voice in my head whispered.

I slowed to a stop ten feet from the door and stared at the sign. The S had stopped working so the lights announced that “horty's” was, indeed, open for business. An older couple brushed passed me and entered, but I stalled another minute, peering in through the quickly-closing door to see if…anyone I knew was there. From what I could tell, though, there was only one bartender and a handful of customers. Maybe Bash got off early on slow nights?

I chewed my lip, on the fence as to whether I should walk away or not, but then took a deep breath. Right or wrong, I was here now. I had to at least see if he was here, because clearly I wasn't going to rest until I'd tried one more time to explain myself to the guy who had lost his job after sticking up for me.

I shoved the door back open and stepped in. The music was much softer than it had been the night before. Background noise for the low hum of conversation. The median age of the patrons was about sixty-three, and I wondered if this was how Shorty’s had been before the college broke ground twenty years before. There were probably some people who still resented our presence and wished we’d get off their lawn.

"What are you doing here again?"

I whipped around to see Bash standing behind me. The wary look in his eyes stung a little, but I couldn't blame him. I'd been nothing but trouble for him so far. He'd be stupid to want me around. His gaze flickered lower and slid slowly upward again, taking in every inch of me, but his expression stayed cool and blank.

I ran a hand through my hair and hoped my cheeks weren't as red as they felt. How to explain myself without sounding like a sad-sack loser?
“I'm at the lowest point in my life and have no one to talk to. The thought of you being disgusted by me makes me want to die inside. Will you be my friend?”