Landslide (26 page)

“The ring, Cole. What did you say about this ring?”

Shiiit
. “Um, I think I told him you’d love it?”

“Are you kidding me?” Huh. She sounds kind of pissed, not sad. “Does
any
one fucking know me at all?” Definitely not sad…

“Uh…why do you think no one knows you?”

“I would never wear this thing, Cole. I mean, I would, because he bought it and I would’ve been elated and everything, but…
I
would never pick out something this…this…ostentatious. I mean, it’s hideous. Really.”

Oh, thank God…

“Sooo…yeah. That was pretty much my thought exactly when I saw it, but I, uh…didn’t tell him that.”

“Yeah, well, it wouldn’t have mattered. You can’t return engagement rings, especially ones that have been engraved.”

Engraved? I don’t remember anything about it being engraved.

“It was engraved?”

“Yeah, and get this, he goes through the effort of having them engrave it with our anniversary, but doesn’t bother to check that they got it right. Either that, or
he
got our anniversary wrong in the first place!”

“Wasn’t your guys’ anniversary October twenty-third?”

“YES!”

“What’s on the ring?”

“The twenty-seventh! Wait, how do
you
remember my anniversary and my own fucking boyfriend who wanted to
marry
me clearly didn’t?”

Uh-oh. Well, it certainly isn’t because I vividly remember the day Holden asked me if I would be cool with him asking Erica to be his girlfriend and almost choking on my answer of, “Sure, just don’t be a dick to her or I’ll eradicate your very existence,” when my first impulse was an emphatic, “When Hell freezes over.” I think I convinced myself though that I was being protective of her like a big brother would’ve been, and everyone around me knew it. Like they all were aware no one would’ve ever been good enough for her in my eyes, and if they were lucky enough to be granted my permission to try to be, everyone knew I would’ve blown a fucking gasket if I’d found out anyone ever screwed her over, or, screwed her literally. Although after they’d been together for what seemed like forever and a day, I think I got used to the idea that he made her happy, and so I just quietly bowed out.

Mmhm, that’s what you did alright. Nice going. And uh, pretty sick shit, considering the circumstances and your more recent brotherly protective behavior that essentially landed your dick in her mouth.

Oh my God, I hate you so very much sometimes…

I clear my throat and then straight up lie. Er…partially lie. “It was his passcode on his computer. I started at ten-zero-one and worked my way up until I got it right.”

“Oh. Then it must’ve been the jeweler’s mistake I guess. But still…that just makes last night worse.” Her voice takes a turn, alerting me to the fact that she’s moving past being angry and into something I can’t quite put my finger on, but her tone sends a chill down my spine. “I was
so
pissed off at him and myself and just
everything
last night, Cole…I was just…so done and I did something incredibly stupid because of it.”

If I were her, I would’ve chucked the ring through a window and not given a shit how much money it could probably get from a pawn shop, so, unless that’s what she did, she needs to let up on herself a little.

“It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“Yeah, well, it was. I—God, I don’t even know if I should say this…”
 

“Say what?” Even through the water beating down on and around me, I can hear her starting to sniffle, and suddenly with the passing of every second she doesn’t answer, I get the very distinct feeling I shouldn’t have asked.

“Well, first let me preface this with saying that after a night of feeling unbelievably despondent, then more angry than I’ve ever been in my life at someone I love, and drinking entirely way too much, all I really have to show for myself is an incredible hangover and absolutely no dignity whatsoever. But I mean, honestly though, what did I expect to accomplish or prove to him by getting hammered and having sex with fucking Captain America?!”
 

Before I left for Las Vegas, Wyatt had told me how everyone had been clued into Erica’s and my little secret and that Chad was steering way clear of me because of it. I didn’t understand why until Wyatt explained that people like me make Chad nervous because we’re too cool until it’s too late. I still didn’t quite get it so he further explained that I’m what Chad calls a lethally slow burner. It takes a while to get my fuse to do its thing once it’s lit, although once the spark finally reaches the dynamite,
KABOOM
. But because it takes so long for me to even ignite let alone to explode, people are lulled into a false sense of security and might think it’s safe to get close when in actuality, the second they take what they think is a danger-free step towards me, I go off and they’re completely annihilated. Chad had felt the negative energy I was putting off from jump before he even knew Erica was only eighteen, and once he understood where it actually originated from and that he’d put himself in my line of fire however unknowingly, he was keeping a respectfully safe distance.

Hearing Erica admit not only openly and out loud, but almost
casually
that after everything…everything I’ve put myself through and practically sold my soul for a chance at having with her…she
chose
to get drunk and with no regard whatsoever, she just…threw herself and her virginity away like both were nothing, like neither meant a goddamned solitary thing to anyone except the fucking corpse of her rotting would’ve-been husband… Well, it isn’t a simple stick of dynamite I feel about to go off inside me finally.

Despite the heat and thick steam from my shower, killing coldness sweeps over me to permeate the crypt where my deadened heart now dwells; it having for once and finally given up the ghost in trying to beat at all, even for myself. My mind races for fuel or a weapon I can use to inflict as much injury and hurt as I’m filled with, and I become apocalyptically radioactive latching onto and deciding upon the one thing I know will cut her open and make her bleed out, because draining her life’s spirit to empty as much as what her actions of last night have done to me is the only way I can ensure a new era…one where I’ll never be vulnerable to being slaughtered by her hand like this again. Once is enough.

Deafening silence comes from me though because to do it right; to grind her completely into nothing but dust, I have to once again bide my time and patiently wait my turn…

23

“Words”

—Erica—

Truthfully, I was relieved as all hell when Cole agreed to talk on the phone instead of through FaceTime. I wanted to see his face in addition to hearing his voice; however, I
really
wasn’t looking forward to him seeing mine when I told him about my night of drunken debauchery with a complete stranger. Shit, I didn’t even want to say it out loud to myself, let alone to anyone else. And I know it’s Cole and I can tell him anything and everything, but still. I mean I became a living, breathing, drinking, college cliché last night and to think anyone will applaud me for sticking it to my dead, almost fiancé like I did is an even more ludicrous thought than thinking Holden would in some way show me he still loves me, like chucking a lightning bolt at Captain America’s head or mine. Yet, when the only sound coming from the other end of the line is the hard spattering of water hitting the walls of a shower, I begin to feel even more disgrace than I did doing the walk of shame this morning with a pounding head, bloodshot eyes, and dragging my cave woman club on the ground behind me.

“Are you there?” I ask and then hear the shower stop and, I’m guessing from the rattling sound of metal rings clanking together, Cole pulling the curtain back to get out.

“Yep, just grabbing a towel. So, tell me, how was it?”

How was it?
I don’t even know what to say to that except now, I suddenly
really
want to vent. “Truth? I mean, you really wanna know?”

“Sure, why not. Hit me.”

“It sucked. I mean it didn’t
just
suck…from what I remember, which isn’t a lot truth be told, it felt like a steel-toed boot was being rammed into me at first, but that was only after he managed to find where he was supposed to be in the first place after fumbling around for I don’t even know how long because he was even more hammered than I was. And that was a lot. Either that or he just has no clue where the female genitalia are located.

“And, to make it just the most perfect experience for me, he’s one of those horrendously sloppy kissers, his breath reeked of Captain Morgan, he couldn’t keep it up and ended up passing out before he finished. As thanks though, I puked in his plastic Captain America shield before I passed out too.” I seriously did and I seriously can’t believe I’m telling
anyone
about what
must
be the most god-awful first time in sexual history.

“Oh and then, he wakes me up this morning, actually apologizes for passing out on me, and says, ‘I’d make it up to you some time, but I’m sort of seeing someone.’ He then proceeded to explain that I really needed to get going because whoever that someone is, was probably gonna be showing up in the next thirty minutes. I mean seriously, Cole, what the fuck?”

By this time, Cole is chuckling to himself in what almost sounds to me like cynicism and I kind of don’t blame him. Like, if it were me hearing about this debacle of epic proportions, I’d feel sorry for the person, but in all honesty, I’d probably be at least laughing on the inside because it’s absolutely ridiculous and I sort of got what I deserved. Doesn’t mean I have to like it though.

“Man, sounds like you picked a real winner.”

“Uh, ya think? Actually, I want you to come kick his ass for me. I think he’s older than you are, but you could
totally
take him.” God, I would love that
so
much. And bonus, I’d actually get to see Cole and maybe even be kissed so well I’d forget my name
and
the migraine I have.

Oh my God. I cannot believe you even just thought that. What in the actual hell is wrong with you? You might’ve gotten used to being kissed by a master and him always picking up the broken pieces of you with his lips, but that’s not his job, so, way to think of actually using your best friend there, Erica. Bravo, you spoiled, inconsiderate snot. Seriously, you need to get your shit together, girl…

“Gimme a break, Erica, I’m not driving fourteen hours to beat up Captain America for you just because he had whiskey dick and a girlfriend. It sucks, but it happens, so…better luck next time.”

“Better luck next time?” Um…I know this is all pretty much my fault and all, but really…who
says
that?

 
“Yeah. You know, I’d suggest maybe seeing what Batman’s got in his utility belt. I bet he packs a punch…probably can handle his liquor better too.”
 

“I really hope you’re joking,” I say and then remember something that I always thought was sort of an excuse guys including Cole use like girls do with the excuse of having a headache, but I’m actually hoping it’s real, “But, can I ask you something seriously?”

“At this point, I don’t see why not.”

“Is that a real thing?”

“Is what a real thing?”

“You know, whiskey dick.”

“You’re afraid you didn’t do it for him, huh?”

Yes, exactly. And uh, what the hell is
with
him today? “Yeah, little bit. Is it real or not?”

“Yep.”

“Have you ever…had it? Like, not how you tried to say you were too drunk the night before I left, but I mean, you know, have you ever gone limp or passed out before you were done like Steve Rogers did?”

“Have you ever heard me share details of my sex life before?”

“Um, n—no.” Uh-oh. I think I might’ve just crossed a line I never knew had been drawn.

“That’s because I don’t.”

“Seriously? After I just told you all my shit?”

“Seriously. What I do and who I do it with is no one’s business.”

“And, I’m no one?”

“Unless you have firsthand experience that enables you to answer questions like that for yourself already, then yes, you’re no one.”

Uh, ouch. I don’t know what the hell his deal is today, and I’m not in the best mental health personally either, but I kind of think Cole is being a world-class asshole. He can get sketchy and moody sometimes, and although he usually appears super laid back, I’m not going to lie, he has a temper too. However, he’s
never
been like this to me and he’s never lost his cool with me either. And in the honesty vein, it really pushes my buttons that he’s being so callous with me right now.
 

I open my mouth to go off on him for being such a jerk on a day when I really need my best friend, but suddenly, I remember the one and only time Cole scared me. It was in Walmart the night he left home and I remember why he was so angry. He’d had an
extremely
bad day and although I was part of what pushed him to his breaking point,
I
wasn’t the target of his rage. Then I realize that he’d said he had something to tell me too before I became a self-absorbed brat whining in my morning after embarrassment and regret.

I take a deep breath and swallow my irritation enough to be somewhat contrite when I say, “You’re right. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for dominating the conversation too, so let’s move on. It’s your turn now…what did you have to tell me?”

“Oh, yeah…almost forgot. I joined the military.”

24

“You Won’t Be Mine”

—Cole—

Just like I knew it would, telling Erica I was abandoning her by signing my life away to the military cut her to the bone. Truly, it was a thing of destructive beauty. She sobbed and begged me to tell her I was joking, and confidently stepped right into the role I had all but scripted for her when she reminded me of the promise I made to her. My response was simply telling her I didn’t remember making it. But I remember. And I remember effectively sealing it with a kiss too.

That’s what made it so painfully perfect.