Текст книги "After We Fell"

Автор книги: Anna Todd

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 49 страниц)

chapter

eighteen

TESSA

When I pull open the door to my office, Zed is standing in the hall like the angel of death. He’s dressed in a black-and-red-plaid sweatshirt, dark jeans, and sneakers. The swelling on his face hasn’t gone down much, but the bruising around the edges of his eyes and nose have lightened from dark purple to a greenish blue.

“Hey . . . I’m sorry for coming here like this,” he says.

“Is something wrong?” I ask and walk back over to my desk.

He stands awkwardly in the doorway for a moment before stepping into the room. “No. Well, yes, I’ve been trying to talk to you since yesterday, but you haven’t been answering my texts.”

“I know; it’s just that Hardin and I already have enough issues without me creating even more, and he doesn’t want me to talk to you anymore.”

“You’re letting him tell you who you can talk to now?” Zed sits down in the chair directly in front of my desk, and I take a seat behind it. The way we’re seated gives an official, more serious tone to our conversation. It’s not uncomfortable, just too formal.

I look out the window before answering.

“No, it’s not like that. I know he’s a little overbearing and may go about things the wrong way, but I can’t say I blame him for not wanting me to be friends with you anymore. I wouldn’t want him to spend time with someone he has feelings for either,” I say, and Zed’s eyes widen.

“What did you say?”

Dammit. “Nothing, I just meant . . .” The air grows thick, and I could swear that the walls are closing in on me. Why did I just say that? Not that it isn’t true, but it won’t help the situation here.

“You have feelings for me?” he asks, his eyes lighting up with each syllable.

“No . . . well, I did. I don’t know,” I ramble, wishing I could slap myself for being so quick to speak without thinking.

“It’s okay if you don’t, but you shouldn’t have to lie about it.”

“I’m not lying; I did have feelings for you. I may still have some, honestly, but I don’t know. It’s all confusing to me. You always say the right things, and you’ve always been there for me. It would make sense if I did develop those feelings. I’ve told you before that I care about you, but we both know it’s a lost cause.”

“Why’s that?” he asks. I’m not sure how many more times I can reject him before he understands where I’m coming from.

“Because it’s pointless. I’ll never be able to be with you. Or anyone, for that matter. No one but him.”

“You’re only saying that because he has you trapped.”

I try to push down the anger that is slowly building as I listen to Zed’s words about Hardin. He’s certainly entitled to have ill feelings toward him, but I don’t like the way he’s insinuating that I have no power or control when it comes to my relationship.

“No; I’m saying that because I love him. And as much as I don’t want to say it that boldly to you right now, I know that I have to. I don’t want to lead you on more than I already have. I know you don’t understand why I stay with him through all of this mess, but I love him so much, more than anything, and he doesn’t have me trapped. I want to be with him.”

It’s true. Everything I just said to Zed is true. Whether Hardin comes to Seattle with me or not, we can try to make it work. We can use Skype, see each other on the weekends until he goes to England. Hopefully by then he won’t want to be away from me after all.

Maybe the distance will make Hardin’s heart grow fonder, his tone softer. It may be the key to getting him to agree to move with me. Our history has proven that we aren’t very good at staying away from one another; whether deliberately or not, we always end up together in some way. It’s hard to remember a time when my days and nights didn’t revolve around this man. I’ve tried again and again to picture a life without him, but it’s nearly impossible.

“I don’t think he gives you the chance to really think about what you want or what’s good for you,” Zed says with conviction, though his voice does crack. “He only cares about himself.”

“And that’s where you’re wrong. I know you guys have some issues between the two of you, but—”

“No, you don’t know about our issues at all,” he says quickly. “If you did—”

“He loves me, and I him,” I interrupt. “I’m sorry that you were brought into the middle of this. I’m so sorry; I never wanted to hurt you.”

He frowns. “You keep saying that to me, and yet it keeps happening.”

I hate confrontation more than anything, especially when it involves hurting someone that I care for, but these things have to be said so that Zed and I can close the book on this . . . I’m not even sure how to categorize it. Situation? Misunderstanding? Bad timing?

I look at Zed, hoping he can read the sincerity in my eyes. “It wasn’t my intention. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to keep apologizing. I already knew this when I made the decision to come here. You made it pretty clear how you felt outside of the administration building.”

“Then why did you come?” I ask softly.

“To talk to you.” He looks around the room, then back at me. “Never mind. I don’t know why I came here, really.” He sighs.

“Are you sure? You seemed pretty determined a few minutes ago.”

“No. It’s pointless, like you said. I’m sorry for coming.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize,” I tell him.

We both keep saying that, I think.

He points down at the boxes on the floor. “You’re still going, then?”

“Yeah, I’m almost ready to leave.”

The air between us has become incredibly thick, and neither of us seems to know what to say to the other. Zed stares out the window at the gray sky, and I stare at the carpet beyond him.

At last he stands up and speaks, though I can barely hear his words through the sadness in his voice. “I better go, then. Sorry again for coming here. Good luck in Seattle, Tessa.”

I stand up as well. “I’m sorry for everything. I wish things could’ve been different.”

“So do I. More than you know,” he says and stands up from the chair.

My heart aches for him. He’s always been so sweet to me, and I’ve done nothing but lead him on and reject him.

“Have you made up your mind whether you’re going to press charges or not?” This isn’t the right time to be asking this, but I don’t think I’ll ever see or hear from him again.

“Yeah, I’m not going to. I’m over this whole thing. There’s no point in dragging it out. And I did tell you that if you told me you didn’t want to see me again I would drop them, didn’t I?”

Suddenly I feel like if Zed just looks at me in a certain way, I’ll probably start crying. “Yeah,” I quietly respond. I feel like Estella in Great Expectations, toying with Pip’s emotions. My own Pip stands in front of me, caramel eyes fixed on mine. And this is a role I don’t really want to play.

“I truly am sorry for everything. I wish we could be friends,” I say.

“Me, too, but you’re not allowed to have friends.” He sighs, running his fingers over his bottom lip, pinching it in the middle.

I decide not to comment on his statement: this isn’t about what I’m “allowed” to do. I do, however, make a mental note to discuss this perception that other people have with Hardin and make sure he understands that it bothers me that his attitude makes them think this about me.

As if on cue, my office phone rings, breaking the silence between Zed and me. I hold my finger so he doesn’t leave and pick it up.

“Tessa.” Hardin’s rough voice carries through. Shit.

“Hey,” I say, my voice shaky.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine,” he says. Why does he have to know me so well?

“I’m fine,” I assure him again. “Just distracted.”

“Sure. Anyway, I need to know what you want me to do with your dad. I tried to text, but you weren’t answering me. I’ve got shit to do, and I don’t know if I should leave him here or what.”

I look over at Zed. He’s standing by the window now, not looking at me. “I don’t know, can’t you take him with you?” My heart is racing.

“No; hell, no.”

“So leave him there,” I say, just wanting this conversation to end. I’m going to tell Hardin about Zed’s visit, but I can’t imagine how pissed he would be if he knew he was here now, and I sure as hell don’t want him to find out.

“Fine, you can deal with him when you get here.”

“Okay, well, I’ll see you when I get home—”

Music begins to play through my office, and it takes me a minute to realize it’s coming from Zed. He reaches into his pocket and silences it, but not before Hardin notices.

“What was that? Whose phone was that?” he demands.

My blood suddenly runs cold, until I take a moment to think about this. I shouldn’t be so afraid or nervous for Hardin to know Zed’s here. I didn’t do anything wrong; he came, and he’s leaving. He already gets irritated when Trevor comes by my office, and Trevor’s a coworker and entitled to stop in anytime he wants.

“Is fucking Trevor there?”

“No, it’s not Trevor. Zed’s here,” I say and hold my breath.

The line is silent. I look at the screen to make sure the call is still connected. “Hardin?”

“Yeah,” he says and lets out a ragged breath.

“Did you hear me?”

“Yes, Tessa, I heard you.”

Okay? Why isn’t he screaming through the phone or threatening to kill him yet?

“We’ll talk about it later. Make him leave. Please,” he calmly requests.

“Okay . . .”

“Thank you, I’ll see you when you get home,” Hardin says and hangs up the phone.

When I put my phone down, slightly bewildered, Zed turns to me and says, “Sorry, I know he’s going to freak out on you.”

“No, he won’t. He’ll be fine,” I say back, knowing it’s not true, but it sounds good, anyway. Hardin’s reaction to Zed being in my office caught me off guard. I’d never have expected him to be so calm. I expected him to say he was on his way here. I sure hope he’s not.

Zed walks toward the door again. “Okay. Well, I guess I should go.”

“Zed, thank you for coming by. I probably won’t see you again before I leave.”

He turns, and emotion flashes in his eyes, but it disappears before I can decide which emotion it was. “I won’t say meeting you hasn’t complicated my life, but I wouldn’t take it back. I’d go through all of this shit again—the fights with Hardin, the friendships I’ve lost, all of it. I would go through it again, for you,” he says. “I guess it’s just my luck; of course I can’t meet a girl who doesn’t already love someone else.”

His words always get to me, always. He’s so sincere all the time, and I admire that about him.

“Bye, Tessa,” he says.

His words hold much more than a simple friendly goodbye, but I can’t project too much into them. If I say the wrong thing, or anything at all, I’ll only be leading him on, again.

“Bye, Zed.” I half smile, and he takes a step toward me.

For a moment I panic, thinking he’s going to kiss me, but he doesn’t. He wraps his arms around me in a strong but brief hug before placing a light kiss on my forehead. He steps away immediately after and grabs hold of the door handle, almost like it’s a cane.

“Be careful, okay?” he says, opening the door.

“I will. Seattle isn’t too bad.” I smile. I feel very resolved now, like I have finally given him the closure he needed.

He frowns and turns to leave the room. As he closes the door behind him, I hear him say gently, “I’m not talking about Seattle.”

chapter

nineteen

TESSA

As soon as the door shuts and Zed is gone—gone for good—I close my eyes and lay my head back against the chair. I don’t know what I’m feeling. All of my emotions are jumbled, swirling around me in a cloud of confusion. Part of me feels relieved to end this back-and-forth between Zed and me. But another, smaller part feels a significant loss. Zed is the only one of Hardin’s so-called friends who’s been there for me constantly, and it’s strange to realize that I’ll never see him again. The tears burn, unwelcomed, down my cheeks as I try to collect myself. I shouldn’t be crying over this. I should be happy that I can finally close the book on Zed, tuck it away, leaving it only to collect dust, never to be opened again.

It’s not that I want to be with him, it’s not that I love him, it’s not that I would ever choose him over Hardin; it’s just that I do care for him, and I wish things had played out differently. I wish I would have kept our relationship strictly platonic—maybe then I wouldn’t have to completely cut him out of my life.

I don’t know why he came back in here, but I’m glad he left before he could say anything to confuse me or hurt Hardin further.

My office phone rings, and I clear my throat before answering. When I say “Hello,” I sound pathetic.

Hardin’s voice carries through strong and clear. “Did he leave?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you crying?”

“I’m just . . .” I start.

“What?” he implores.

“I don’t know, I’m just glad it’s over.” I wipe at my eyes again.

He sighs through the line and surprises me by simply saying, “Me, too.”

The tears are no longer falling, but my voice is hideous. “Thank you”—I pause—“for being understanding about this.”

That went much better than I’d expected, and I don’t know if I should be relieved or slightly worried. I decide to go with relieved and finish the last of my time at Vance as peacefully as possible.

Around three, Kimberly stops by my office; behind her is a girl who I’m sure I’ve never seen at the office before.

“Tessa, this is Amy, my replacement,” Kimberly says, introducing the quiet yet stunning girl.

I get up from where I’m reading, trying to reassure Amy with a friendly smile. “Hi, Amy. I’m Tessa. You’ll love it here.”

“Thank you! I already love it,” she says excitedly.

Kim laughs. “Well, I just wanted to stop by your office while we were pretending to be taking a tour of the building.”

“Oh yes. You’re teaching her to replace you, all right,” I tease.

“Hey! Being engaged to the boss has its perks,” Kim jokes back.

Beside her, Amy laughs, and then Kimberly leads her down another hallway. My last day here finally ends, and I find myself wishing it could have gone slower. I’m going to miss this place, and I’m slightly nervous to go home to Hardin.

I take one last look around my first office. My eyes focus on the desk first. My stomach tightens as memories of Hardin and me on the desk flood my senses. It seems so extreme: having sex in an office when anyone could walk in at any moment. I was too distracted by Hardin to think of anything else . . . which seems to be a pattern in my everyday life.

ON THE WAY HOME I stop by Conner’s to get a few groceries—just enough to make dinner tonight, since we’re leaving in the morning. I’m excited but nervous about the trip. I hope Hardin can keep his temper in check for the two-day vacation with his family.

Since that doesn’t seem likely, my next hope is that the boat is big enough for the five of us to have a little breathing room.

Back at the apartment, I unlock the front door and push it open with my foot, picking up the grocery bags from the floor as I step inside. The living room is a mess; empty water bottles and food wrappers litter the coffee table. My father and Hardin sit on opposite ends of the couch.

“How was your day, Tessie?” my father asks, craning his neck to look over at me.

“Good. It was my last day there,” I tell him even though he already knows. I begin to clear their trash from the table and floor.

“I’m happy you had a good day,” my father says.

I look at Hardin, who doesn’t look at me. His gaze is fixed on the television screen.

“I’m going to make dinner, then get in the shower,” I tell them, and my father follows me into the kitchen.

As I unload the grocery bags and put the ground beef and box of taco shells on the counter, my father watches me with interest. At last, he says, “One of my friends said he can pick me up here later, if that’s okay. I know you’re leaving tomorrow for a few days.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. We can drop you off in the morning if that would be better for you,” I offer.

“No, you’ve already been so generous. Just promise me you’ll let me know when you get back from your trip.”

“Okay . . . how will I get in touch with you?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Maybe just drive down Lamar? I’m usually out there.”

“Okay, I will.”

“I’ll go call him back now and let him know I’m ready.” He disappears from the kitchen.

I hear Hardin teasing my father about the fact that he has to memorize phone numbers because he doesn’t own a phone, and I roll my eyes when my father begins the when-I-was-a-kid-no-one-had-cell-phones speech.

Tacos with ground beef are easy to make and don’t require too much thought. I wish Hardin would come into the kitchen and talk to me, but I suppose it’s better if he waits until my father leaves. I set up the table for dinner and call for the two of them. Hardin enters first, barely making eye contact with me, followed by my father.

As he sits, my father says, “Chad will be here soon to get me. I appreciate you guys letting me stay. It was mighty generous of you two.” He looks back and forth between Hardin and me. “Thank you so much, Tessie, H-bomb,” he adds. The way Hardin rolls his eyes at my father, I can tell this is some inside joke between them.

“It’s no problem, really,” I tell him.

“I’m just so glad we found each other again,” he says and starts eating his meal with an animated ferocity.

“Me, too . . .” I smile, still not able to process that this man is my father. The man that I haven’t seen in nine years, the man who I had so many ill feelings toward, is just sitting in my kitchen eating with my boyfriend and me.

I look over to Hardin, expecting a rude comment from him, but he says nothing and quietly eats his meal. His silence is driving me mad. I wish he’d just say something . . . anything, really.

Sometimes his silence is far worse than his yelling.

chapter

twenty

HARDIN

After we finish eating, Tessa gives her father her final, somewhat stiff goodbye and heads into the bathroom for a shower. I was planning on getting in the shower with her, but Richard’s friend is taking all damn night to pick his ass up.

“Is he coming today or . . .” I begin.

Richard nods about twenty times, but then looks at the window with a slightly worried expression. “Yeah, yeah, he said he’d be here soon. He probably just got lost or something.”

“Sure,” I say.

He smiles. “Won’t you miss having me around?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Well, maybe I’ll find myself a job and see you both in Seattle.”

“Neither of us will be in Seattle.”

He looks at me sagely. “Sure,” he repeats, using my word from moments ago.

A knock at the door ends our obnoxious conversation, and as he goes to answer it, I stand up. Just in case he needs an extra little push out the door.

“Thanks for picking me up, man,” Tessa’s dad says to his friend, who remains in the doorway but peeks his head in farther. He’s tall, with long black hair swept back in a disgusting, greasy ponytail. His cheeks are sunken in, his clothes are ratty, and his fingernails are black lines on filthy, bony hands.

What the fuck.

The man’s gravelly voice matches his appearance when he asks with some awe, “This is your daughter’s place?”

This man is no drunk.

“Yeah. Nice, huh? I’m proud of her.” Richard smiles, and the guy pats his shoulder, nodding in agreement.

“Who’s this?” the man asks.

They both look over at me. Richard smiles. “Oh, him? That’s Hardin, Tessie’s boyfriend.”

“Cool, I’m Chad,” he states, saying it almost like he’s a local personality I should somehow know.

Not a drunk. So much worse.

“Okay,” I say, watching his eyes as they move around our living room. I’m relieved that Tessa’s in the shower and doesn’t have to meet this creep.

When I hear the bathroom door open, I curse at myself. I spoke too fucking soon. Chad lifts his long-sleeved shirt to scratch at his arms, making me feel like Tessa for a moment as I get a sudden urge to mop the fucking floor.

“Hardin?” Her voice travels down the hall.

“You should go now,” I tell the scraggly pair before me in the most threatening tone possible.

“I want to meet her,” Chad says with a dark twinkle in his eye, and I have to concentrate to keep myself in my place and not throw both these bags of bones into the hallway and out the window.

“No. You don’t,” I say.

Richard looks at me. “Okay . . . okay . . . we’re going,” he says and starts ushering his friend out. “I’ll see you later, Hardin. Thanks again. Stay out of jail.” And with a smirk and that parting shot, he leaves the apartment.

“Hardin?” Tessa calls again as she enters the living room.

“They just left.”

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

“What’s wrong? Hmm . . . let’s see. Zed came to your office, and your drunk of a dad just brought some creepy fucking dude into our apartment.” A brief pause, and I add, “Are you sure your dad only drinks?”

“What?” The shoulder of her T-shirt—well, my T-shirt—slips down to bare her shoulder. She pushes it back up and sits down on the couch. “What do you mean, ‘only drinks’?”

Looking at her, I don’t want to plant the seed that her dad’s not only a homeless drunk but a drug addict, too. He doesn’t look as bad as the asshole who just came to pick him up, but I still have a weird feeling about this shit. Even so, I just say, “I don’t know. Never mind, I was just thinking out loud.”

“Okay . . .” she quietly answers.

I know her well enough to be certain that the thought of her father being on drugs hasn’t crossed her mind and that she’d never guess I’m thinking it from what I said.

“Are you mad at me?” Her voice is soft, too timid.

I know she’s waiting for me to explode any moment. I have been purposely avoiding conversation with her for a reason. “No.”

“Are you sure?” She looks at me with those big, beautiful eyes, begging for me to say something.

They do the trick.

“No, I’m not sure. I don’t know. I’m really mad, yeah, but I don’t want to fight with you over it. I’m trying to change, you know? Keep my shit together and not flip out on you over every little thing.” I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. “Even though this isn’t a little thing. I’ve told you time and time again not to see Zed, but you still do.” I look at her coldly—not to be mean, but because I have to see how her eyes react when I add, “How would you feel if I did that to you?”

She practically crumples before my eyes. “I would feel terrible. I know I’ve been wrong for seeing him,” she says without defense.

Well, I wasn’t expecting that. I was expecting her to yell at me and stick up for that shithead Zed, like always. “Yes, you have,” I say, then sigh. “But if you say you told him it’s done, then it’s done. I’ve done everything I can do to keep him away from you, but he doesn’t stop. So you have to be the one to keep him away.”

“It’s done, I swear. I won’t see him again.”

She looks up at me, and I shudder at the thought of her on the phone earlier, her crying over their goodbye.

“We aren’t going to that party on Saturday,” I say, and her face falls.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Actually, I know it isn’t.

“I want to go.” She presses her full lips into a line.

“We aren’t going,” I tell her again.

Her spine shoots up a little, and she pushes back. “If I want to go, I’ll go.”

Fuck, she’s so fucking stubborn. “Can we please just discuss it later? We have shit to do if you want me to go on this fucking stupid-ass boat shit.”

She smiles playfully. “Could you fit any more curse words in that sentence?”

And I smile as I have a vision of her bent over my knee for being so smarmy. She’d probably like that, actually: lying across my lap, my hand hitting her skin, not too hard, just hard enough to turn the skin pink . . .

“Hardin?”

My perverted thoughts interrupted, I push them away . . . for now. She would hide behind her hands if I told her what I was daydreaming about.