The Girl I Was Before (18 page)

“I guess so,” I say, moving my attention back to my cards. They’re still two jacks, just like they were when I first got them dealt to me. I’m staring at the heart and the club, pretending to be thinking about odds and possibilities, but I’m really wondering if Ty’s still watching me, waiting for me to break about Paige. I risk it and look back up, and his eyes are waiting for me. Everyone else is into their own hands, but Ty’s got me figured out. He smiles, then slowly chuckles to himself. This has nothing to do with poker, and everything to do with what he’s just figured out—Paige is mine. More accurately, I’m hers.

“All right, Texas,” Ty says to me. “Bet’s to you.”

I glance at my cards again, a move that’s only for show, then lay them face down and sit back with my hands behind my neck, chewing at the inside of my cheek, looking at the cards on the table.

“I’m all in,” I say, pushing my stack, which isn’t much, to the center of the table.

Ty’s eyes are waiting for me when I look up, and he raises a brow, glances at his own cards, and tosses them on the table.

“I’m out,” he says, sitting back and folding his arms.

“I don’t know, I think dude’s bluffin’. I call,” Nate says.

“Get ready to lose your shirt, bro. This dude’s the real deal,” Ty says, laughing to himself as he moves away from the table and pushes into a small kitchen area. I think the apartment belongs to one of the other guys—who follows Ty’s lead and folds. The other one has most of the chips on the table, so he tosses in the few it takes to see my bet through.

With every flip of the cards, nothing comes up, and even though I can’t bet, the others raise their own. I’m probably screwed; when I make eye contact with Ty, I realize I’m probably screwed in more ways than one. I’m ruined because I’m falling for a girl who’s a tremendous pain in the ass. That’s where Ty thinks the line is—little does he know that the baggage I drag over that line makes things a whole hell of a lot more complicated.

But I’m all in, falling for her anyway. There’s no taking that bet back now.

With the last cards tipped on the table, I flip mine over first, expecting to watch my final chips get swept away.

“You’re kidding me—a pair of jacks? You went
all in
with a pair of jacks?” Nate says, rubbing his face and leaning back in his chair, tipping it so the front legs lift from the floor.

“Go big or go home,” I say.

“Hell yeah, bro,” Ty says, reaching his beer over the table to tap it into mine. I drank two beers tonight, slowly, over two hours. I wanted to be able to drive if I had to, but I also didn’t want to seem like a pansy-ass in front of Ty. I’m pretty sure he’s the kind of guy who can really give someone shit when he feels like it. “Take your chips.”

I look down when he says that and realize I bluffed my way into winning my money back. I didn’t mean to. When I went all in, I felt pretty good about the jacks. Didn’t think they’d be all I needed.

“Thanks, boys. It’s been a pleasure,” I say, cashing out and putting the forty bucks back in my wallet.

“Yeah, yeah,” Nate says, sweeping the cards into a pile and shuffling as I head to the door.

“Oh hey, and Houston…Nate’s game with the scouts is next week. Cass is coming, and I think she’d like it if Paige came. Just…if you can help that out a little,” Ty says. We exchange an understanding stare.

“Yeah, I’ll work on it,” I say.

“Good. Thanks. Oh, and just a tip…that bluffing shit—” he pauses, holding the door open as I step outside onto the pavement, “it won’t work with her. She’ll see right through it all—trust me. Just give it to her straight. Ya know, if you wanna get anywhere.”

I hold up my hand with my keys, eyes wide, and nod. I don’t think I can really bluff Ty either. I won’t pretend to.

The trip in my car is silent. I don’t even bother with the radio; I’m too consumed with
her
. I pulled my phone out at the first stoplight, wanting to send Paige a text that I was on my way, but then I wasn’t sure what to type. I turned the lights out before I drove into the driveway. I know it’s barely ten at night, but they both might be asleep.

I can see the light from Leah’s room spilling into the hallway upstairs, so I slip my shoes from my feet and glide up as quietly as I can. She usually stays awake waiting for me on late work nights. She says she just likes to say goodnight, but I kind of think she worries I won’t come home at all.

“But what about the princess?” I hear Leah ask. I’m about to step into her room when I pause, not wanting to interrupt. I turn the corner so my back is flush against the wall outside her door.

“Right. The princess,” Paige says. She’s quiet for a few seconds, and I can hear the pages of the book turning. Leah loves princesses—anything in a big dress with hair and glitter. “How does this story usually go?”

“The mean witch locks Delilah up in the tower, and then the prince gets his friends together so they can save her, but when he gets there, the tower is scary, so all his friends leave, and he has to fight the witch and her dragon alone. He kills them, and then saves the princess and they run away and get married.”

Leah is out of breath when she finishes retelling Paige the entire princess book. I smile at her voice, doing my best not to laugh at her enthusiasm over a story she’s heard no less than a hundred times.

Then Paige begins to talk, and my chest grows heavy.

“I’d like to tell you a different version, if that’s okay,” she says.

“What’s a
version
?” Leah asks. I cover my mouth with my knuckle, smiling against it.

“It’s sort of like,
hmmmm
…it’s kind of a different way the story could go. You know how you get up in the morning and decide what you’re going to wear? And maybe if you wear a dress, that means you can’t do cartwheels or swing on the swings. But what if you wore shorts instead?”

“I’d swing,” Leah says excitedly, then whispers, “sometimes I swing in the dress. Grandma yells that I’m showing my underwear.”

She giggles and Paige laughs with her.

“Right, but most of the time, what you decide in the morning might mean you do different things later. Well what would happen if Delilah decided not to wait for the prince?” Paige asks.

“Oh no!” Leah’s genuinely worried by this. I’m…fascinated. I slide down slowly so I’m sitting against the wall now, my legs bent up under my arms, careful not to be seen. I don’t want to distract either of them.

“Well maybe…
oh no
. Or…maybe what Delilah decides—when the evil witch locks her up—is that she’s tired of being pushed around,” Paige says. I lay my face flat against my hands, so desperate for her version now.

“Delilah is scared at first. She’s never really been good at fighting. Her dad always led the army. And her mom only decorates for balls and picks flowers in the garden and things like that. So Delilah spends the first night alone, in the dark room, locked away in the tower, hoping someone will save her. But when she wakes up the next morning, she realizes that nothing bad happened to her. The dark was scary, but nothing happened. She’s okay. So she finds a slender piece of wood along the floor and uses it to pick the lock.”

“Oh no!” Leah says, but Paige stops her from worrying.

“Just wait,” Paige says. “She picks the lock, and nobody is near by. So she decides to explore the stairway, to see how high it goes, how deep it is, and if there is a way to get outside. When she hears someone coming, she runs back to her small room and locks the door, tucking the tiny wood pick into the braid of her hair.”

“Every day, she explores a little farther, finding new doors, trying new hallways. And then finally…she finds a tunnel.”

“There’s a tunnel?” Leah asks.

“Oh yes. There’s a tunnel. But you only find it if you’re brave enough to look. Delilah was brave, so she found it. She was also getting stronger, because every night, when she would explore, she would run, and have to pull herself up high on walls, crawl through tight spaces, and lift heavy things. When she found the tunnel, she decided she needed to escape the next night, well after midnight, when she knew the guards would be sleepy. But what she didn’t know, was that the prince was coming to save her at the very same time.”

“He was?” Leah asks.

“Yes, he was. When the moon was at its highest, Delilah picked her lock and made her way to her tunnel, crawling through the narrow damp passageway until she felt the cold air from outside hit her cheeks. She kept her body low to the ground, crawling on her belly under fence after fence, through mud, through a thick forest of trees, all the way to the dangerous guard gates and the wall of fire. She’d practiced the timing, and she knew she could get across it if she was careful counting the seconds in-between flames. But when the time was ready for her to run and make her escape, she heard shouting and fighting.”

“Did someone catch her?” Leah asks.

“No. They caught…
the prince
!” Paige says, and I hear Leah gasp. “Delilah was only one leap away from her freedom, but when she saw the prince was in trouble, she couldn’t leave him.”

“What did she do?” Leah asks.

“She ran through the darkness to the drawbridge. The prince was being tied with rope to the back of a horse, to be led into the witch’s tower for punishment. She looked everywhere for something she could use, something that would help her defeat the guards. There were so many of them, but only one of her. And then she noticed a large barrel of oil. The guards used the oil to keep their torches lit.

“Delilah had grown strong enough, she was able to push the barrel over, spreading the slick liquid all over the bridge in their path. She waited, hidden underneath one of the bridge’s trusses, holding herself with her tiring arms, until she heard the horses begin to walk above her. Careful not to make any sound, she crawled around the bridge’s edge, doing her best to not be seen. The mud that covered her body kept her disguised. Then, she reached into her hair, and pulled out the tiny wood stick, sharp on one end, and she poked the leg of one of the horses.

“The horse leapt up on his back legs, and began jerking wildly, scaring every other horse, which caused many of the guards to lose their balance and drop their torches into the oil. The oil caught fire—igniting the bridge in fiery flames, which frightened the horses even more. They all took off in various directions, including the horse that the prince was still tied to. That horse is the only one Delilah cared about. She followed it, deep into the forest, but didn’t make a sound or let the prince know she was near until she was sure they were far enough away from the others.”

“What happened then?” Leah asks.

“When Delilah felt it was safe, she spoke softly. ‘It’s me, don’t be frightened,’ she said to the prince. He looked around for her in the darkness, and when he saw her, he was so happy. She ran to him, untied him, and hugged him tight, so happy he was safe. He told her that he was trying to rescue her, and she laughed, climbing onto the horse behind him so they could both ride away for their escape. Then, she told him that she wasn’t the kind of girl who needed rescuing, but she’s glad she could save him. And they lived happily ever after.”

Leah’s quiet. So is Paige. I’m pretty sure she’s the princess in the story, and I kind of think Leah knows it too. After a few seconds, I hear her light click
off
, so I stand, still keeping my back to the wall, my body out of sight.

“Paige?” Leah says.

“Yes, Leah,” she responds.

“I like that version,” Leah says.

I can hear Paige’s steps moving closer to the door, closer to me, and it’s beginning to get harder to breathe.

“Me, too, Leah. Me, too,” she says, stepping through the door and closing it behind her.

She sees me quickly, jumping a little, but not making a sound.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” I say, my hands flat on the wall behind me. I’m a little stunned from…
that.
My heart is pounding in my stomach. “I didn’t want to interrupt your story. I think she liked it.”

“I think she did too,” Paige says, folding her arms over her body. She’s dressed in a long cotton shirt with a large heart on the front, her arms guarding it tightly with all her might. I’m struck by the irony. “How was your night with the guys?” she asks.

“I had a good time. Thanks for making me go,” I say, my voice low, not wanting to stir Leah. Not wanting to disturb our space—to ruin our
alone
. “You’re right. Ty’s a pretty good guy.”

“He is,” she sighs, her eyes lingering on mine. Even in the darkness, I can see the mix of blue and specks of green. She’s prettier this way, her hair long and messy, hanging over her shoulders, draping to her breasts. Her face is a blank canvas, the makeup gone, nothing to take away from her eyes and her mouth. My eyes can’t seem to leave her lips. They’re nervous. She’s nervous. She’s…beautiful.

And I’m all in.

“I like you, Paige,” I say, watching intently as her eyes show her tell—flashing wider for a brief second, before she flits them away, looking down at her feet, at her arms that are hugging her body, her heart, tighter. “I like you. I don’t wanna like you…but I do.”

Her eyes find mine quickly. The recognition is there. She remembers. I heard. We both feel. And now things are messy…messier.

“I can’t,” she says.

“I know,” I say, my voice more broken than I expected. The rawness makes her smile fade when she hears me.

“I want to,” she says, her eyes locked on mine now. She’s no longer breathing, and her lips are quivering.

“I know,” I say, taking my breaths for her.

Neither of us is moving. Why can’t I move? Why isn’t she moving?

The longer I stand here and stare at her, the more impossible it feels to leave—to ever leave. This strong goddess who doesn’t need anyone to save her, but damn does she need someone to believe in her.

Her breath catches, just when she realizes she hasn’t tasted air for nearly a minute, and her lips part in a way that makes them that much more beautiful. I take deliberate steps across the hallway, but I move slowly enough she won’t flinch. She can’t run—I can’t let her run. If she runs, I will chase her. I will have to convince her. I will beg her.