If I Break (20 page)

“Okay, honey.” She smiles weakly, and gives me another hug.

“You call me the minute you get to your friend’s house, okay?” she warns me.

“I will. The moment I hit the door,” I assure her as she hesitantly gets back into her car.

She pauses to look at me one more time, her hand on the keys. “I promise,” I tell her. She smiles and blows me a kiss before she finally pulls off. I reposition the strap of the bag on my shoulder and head to the booth to buy a ticket.

***

“We’re here,” the tall, gray haired man tells me. I smile awkwardly.

“How much is it?” I ask him opening my bag for my wallet.

“Twenty sixty-two,” he replies. I hand him a twenty and a five.

“Thank you mam, have a good one,” he says. I smile and hand it to him.

“You too,” I say getting out of the cab.

“No, problem” he says before pulling off. It’s almost eerie how quiet the street is to be near downtown Chicago. Usually there’s always the noise of cars, people, or music playing loudly, the soundtrack of the city. I look at the names listed next to the doorbells and smile when I see Davis. I push it in and wait for a response.

“Who is it?” I hear her voice ask. I smile widely.

“It’s Lauren,” I giggle.

“LAUREN!! I’m coming right down,” I can’t help but laugh; her excitement is contagious, a few moments later, the front door swings open and she almost knocks me on the floor with her hug.

“I can’t believe you’re here. Oh my God!” she shouts in my ear as I try to keep my balance.

“Yeah, I’m here.” Somehow, I don’t feel like I’m matching her energy.

“I thought you were lying about coming, still. You always say you’re coming, and then call with an excuse,” she laughs at me, taking my bag.

“Well, not this time,” I sigh.

“Come on ,” she says, leading me up the stairs. I take in the surroundings of the building; it reminds me of my apartment in college. The white walls, wooden floors, and windows letting the sun pour through them.

“These stairs have made me lose at least five pounds,” she laughs as we round another flight. But by the time we make it to her apartment, she’s huffing and muttering under her breath, “I hate living on the third floor.” Putting her hand on the doorknob, she announces, “This is it!” and leads me in, shutting the door behind us.

“It’s kind of small, but I love the neighborhood. It’s always quiet since there’s a hospital up the street, but it’s still near the city. They have this quiet zone thing,” she tells me. I smile as I look around the small apartment and walk to the window with the sun seeping through, lighting the entire room. I close my eyes as it falls on my face and open them again when I hear her footsteps coming in my direction. “So this is it. Like I said, it’s small, and you’d have the couch,” she explains.

“The couch is fine,” I assure her. She gives me another big smile. That’s one reason I love being around Angela—she always has a way of looking at things positively, and there’s only been a few times I’ve ever seen her sad or mad at anything.

“I still can’t believe you’re here,” she laughs, linking arms with me. She leads me to the off-white colored sofa situated behind a wooden coffee table. “So, how have things been going?” she asks, making herself comfortable. I debate whether to tell her the truth with a fake smile, or just pour out all my problems to her.

“Okay,” I sigh deciding to go with the less time consuming route. She frowns at me.

“Okay?” she asks sarcastically. I nod, and start to play with my fingertips.

She sighs, “Well, I know something’s wrong, but I’m not going to pester you, since I have a feeling you’re not going to tell me now,” she grins. I giggle. She still knows me so well.

Now it’s my turn to sigh. “Cal and I aren’t the best of friends right now,” I say tightly.

Her smile immediately softens. “Do you want to talk about it?”

This is why I love Angie; any other person would just dive into the questions without considering how I felt about it. “Not really. Right now, I’m so tired. I just want to sleep,” I tell her.

“Of course! Well, I have class in, like, thirty, so you’re more than welcome to crash in my bed to get some rest,” she offers.

“Oh no, this is fine.” I gesture to the couch.

“Are you sure?”

“I just spent the last half hour in a cramped cab; this is a vast improvement,” I laugh.

She stands up. “Well, let me go get you some sheets and pillows,” she says, disappearing for the moment and coming back with a crisp pink sheet and pillow. She sets them next to me.

“Thanks,” I say gratefully. “I see you’re still into pink,” I giggle.

“Look who’s talking,” she nudges me playfully, referring to my stint of wearing various shades of pink for at least a year; I needed something to brighten up my then-dull life, and it seemed like a good idea at the time.

“So, my class is over in three hours, and after that I’m going to head to the library for maybe an hour or two. When I come back, you be all rested up, so we can do the girl talk thing and order some take out, okay?” she says, grabbing a brush and quickly running it through her hair.

“That sounds good,” I tell her, slipping out of my tennis shoes.

“ Lauren, how old are those?” she squeals.

I cover my face in embarrassment. “They’re the only flats I have,” I admit, and we both break into a fit of laughter.

“Wow. Anyhow, there’s some leftover pizza in the fridge which you’re welcome to, though I wouldn’t recommend it. Pepsi is all I have to drink—I’ve become addicted—and if you want to take a shower, turn it on ten minutes before; it takes forever to heat up, believe me,” she explains, grabbing her backpack off the table in the kitchen. “The bathroom is back there next to my room. I don’t have to show you the kitchen, and yeah,” she gestures quickly.

“I feel so bad about leaving you here alone when you just got here. I feel like I should be showing you around or something,” she whines.

“Ang, it’s not like I’m a tourist; you don’t have to show me around. And I did kind of call you on short notice. I’ll be fine,” I reassure her.

“I know. I still feel really bad, but I’ll have to do that later,” she laughs, grabbing her keys off the table. “If I miss the bus I’m virtually screwed,” she says rushing to the door.

“Like I said, mi casa, su casa,” she tells me before she exits, and I hear the lock click on the door.

I look around the cozy little apartment, remembering the days when Hillary and I used to room together. How tiny our apartment was, but how warm it felt. That’s exactly what’s missing from my own home—warmth and happiness. I search for a phone, hoping she has one and spot a cordless on the kitchen table. I dial Raven’s number.

“Raven, it’s me. I’ve made it safely. I just got here a few minutes ago, and just wanted to let you know. I’m really tired, so I’ll call you again tonight. Love you,” I say after the beep and hang up. I crawl back onto the sofa and spread the sheet over my head. There aren’t any lights on, but the sun is filling the apartment. My eyes are so heavy they feel like bricks. At last, I let them close.

***

“Lauren, Lauren,” I open my eyes to see Angie standing over me.

“Hey,” I say, starting to wake myself up.

“You’ve been sleep this entire time?” she asks turning on a lamp beside us. My eyes adjust to it, the sun has completely set.

“I guess so,” I tell her groggily sitting up on the couch.

“Are you feeling okay?” she asks worriedly.

“Yeah, I’ve just been really tired” I tell her.

She feels my head. “You’re warm. Do you feel sick?”

“No, I feel fine. I just haven’t been getting much sleep” I lie. I’ve been getting tons. It seems as if all I’ve done is sleep—or cry.

“Are you sure?” she asks skeptically.

“I’m completely fine,” I tell her surely. The last thing I need is another person worrying about me; that’s the reason I left Raven’s house.

“Okay, well I picked up some Chinese on the way home. I thought you would have been up by now,” she giggles, grabbing a remote. The stereo comes on.

“We need some life in this house,” she laughs, starting to shake her hips to the beat. I laugh at her as she shimmies toward me with the most serious face in the world. “I’ve seen you shake it at the club. Don’t act all shy,” she warns me then grabs my hand and leads me to the kitchen area.

“What did you get?” I ask, hearing my stomach growl.

“Fried rice, orange chicken, and onion pancakes” she says, passing me a plate and silver ware.

“So, how is grad school going?” I ask her as I wash my hands.

“Boring and difficult, but it beats getting a job,” she laughs, grabbing an onion pancake and sitting on the counter. I roll my eyes playfully. Angela’s parents have agreed to pay for everything she wants or needs as long as she’s in school, and she’s taken it to the extreme.

“Come on, don’t look at me; Cal spoils you rotten,” she giggles.

“Well, that’s because he’s never home,” I say dryly, taking a seat at the table.

Her expression softens, and she sits down next to me. “Is he still working for Crest Field Corp?” she asks casually. I nod. “Long hours?” she says skeptical even herself.

“Yeah, maybe, that’s it,” I laugh to myself sarcastically.

“You don’t think he’s cheating on you. Do you?”

“He says he isn’t, but how many cheating husbands tell their wives that?”

“Do you believe him?”

“Our problems, I believe, are much bigger than a woman, but I can’t rule it out,” I laugh, pouring myself some fried rice. I take a spoonful, feeling awkwardness fill the room.

“What can be bigger than an affair?” she asks suddenly.

“I wish I knew,” I say pushing my plate away. I’ve suddenly lost my appetite.

“You know, when you called me, I was sort of surprised, to say the least,” she reveals.

“I’m sorry about the lack of information; I just needed to get away,”

“It’s okay. I know how it is,” she smiles warmly. “I remember how you and Cal were, how in love you guys were. Not to mention how extremely jealous me and Hillary were,” she laughs. “I mean, he was incredibly hot,” she sighs.

I smile. “He still is,” I admit.

“You remember Devon? I’d want to jump his ass whenever I saw him. The problem was that so would every other woman that saw him,” she laughed.

“Devon, the basketball player right?” I ask, as if I didn’t know. He was unforgettable, with tanned skin, cold black hair, and a pair of greenish eyes.

“Yep, and every city he played in he had at least three women,” she giggled. “You know, I’ve dated Asian, Black, Hispanic, oh and Italian, and honey, you know what they all have in common? The inability to understand the concept of being in a monogamous relationship,” she explains with a frown pouring some rice on my plate. “I’m determined to find one though. Up until now I’ve had the worst taste in men,” she frowns.

I feel sad for my friend. I remember her and Devon and how infatuated she was with him. He was beautiful, but Angela matched him in looks, having caramel colored skin, slanted eyes, and a face that could pull off short hair. She attracted men of all kinds, just never the right ones.

“Don’t we all,” I mumble, taking another bite.

“Well, at least we’re as not bad as Hillary. That girl could pick the devil himself out of a line up,” she sighs.

“Yeah, the only good guy she had was John, and she dumped him for that terrible jerk, Aaron.”

“God, I thought
I
could pick bad ones. She takes the cake though.”

My thoughts drift away from Angela’s voice. I remember all too clearly the night when I saw how bad a man could be, how truly helpless and lost a woman could be. That same night, I saw a side of Cal that I never wanted to see again, but a small part of me was thankful that it was there.

April 2nd 2009

“I’ll never get tired of this,” I say while resting my head on Cal’s chest. The roof of his building has one of the best views of Chicago.

“Then get used to it,” he smirks, unfazed. I roll my eyes playfully and ignore him to look up at the sky. I’ve grown quite accustomed to his aloofness over things that I’m quite fascinated with.

“I could stay here forever,” I sigh, gazing up at the stars. I glance up at Cal, whose intoxicating gray eyes are allowing faint hues of green to shine. God, when he looks at me like that…

“What?” I ask with a smile. He laughs lightly.

“You’re no good for me,” he says wrapping his arm tighter around my waist. I look at him with a perplexed expression.

“Why is that?” I ask playfully. He pauses.

“You remind me of something,” he says quietly. I arch my eyebrow in question. “It’s not another girl,” he laughs, feeling my unspoken jealously.

“Then who?” I ask curiously and his smile softens.

“More of a feeling anyway,” he mumbles running his hands through my hair.

“Is that so bad?” I ask with a smile.

“I don’t know yet,” he says before he presses his lips against mine pulling me into a sensual kiss. It still makes me light headed.

“No, you’re no good for me,” I giggle.

He smiles. “And why is that?” His fingers are trailing down my stomach.

“You distract me,” I tell him ignoring the chills he’s giving me.

“From what?” he grins mischievously and continues his path.

“From things I’m supposed to concentrate on, like life, bills, school,” I begin to rattle off.

“Well, that’s boring,” he states plainly, starting to unbutton my shirt.

“You know everyone can’t live your life. Stealing away on jets, living in an expensive penthouse, doing whatever you please,” I tell him, trying to focus on my words and not the tightness in my stomach.

“Well they should,” he says before his lips find my neck and he kisses it hungrily.

“The world would be in chaos,” I explain to him, as he continues to undress me, little does he know I will not be letting him have his way with me on this roof. I
probably
won’t.

“I’ve lived life the other way. It wasn’t too interesting,” he mumbles, pursuing my lips with his.

Before I get lost in his kiss I pull away. “And when was this? In between you jumping out of planes or jumping off buildings?” I purr wrapping my arms around him.