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  Once he lowers his lips to my shoulder, he stops and pulls back abruptly, obviously as short of breath as I am. The sudden lack of warmth makes me grasp for his shirt again, trying to pull him closer.

  He laughs, running his hand down my braid, searching my face. “Kimber, you are so beautiful.” He waits a minute, staring at me, and finishes, “I think I need to get you home.”

  Protesting, I tell him, “But can’t we…I was hoping…How about your home?” I can’t believe how forward I’m being, the alcohol is definitely talking.

  He shakes his head slowly while lowering me to the ground, “Oh man, Kimber, I would like nothing more. But we’ve been drinking.”

  Looking up at him, confused, my anger surfaces. “What Andrew? We’re both consenting adults and so what if we’ve been drinking.”

  He reaches down, not acknowledging my rant, and pulls the door open.

  Ashamed and embarrassed, I climb in, sitting as close to the door as I can get. How can one person go so fast from hot to cold? I’m still trying to get warm and I think my panties have seen better days.

  The drive is silent. I’m not sure what to say. One minute he’s telling me we’re friends, the next we’re sucking face and practically having sex in the parking lot. Now he’s driving me home, uninterested. I silently wish for him to take me to his house, not mine. But with every turn in the road, we get closer to my house and my reality. I took Becca and Heidi’s advice, it didn’t pan out, it was bad, bad advice. I’ll be sure to let them know.

  When he pulls in front of my house, he quickly comes around to help me out of the car but I’ve already made my way halfway to the house. He calls to me as I walk away from him. “Kimber, come back and talk to me.”

  Stopping, my shoulders fall, but I don’t turn around. He moves, hovering in front of me, blocking my progress to the door. His hand directs my chin to look up into his eyes. He explains, “I really do want to see you again. Tonight, I just thought it was too fast.”

  Resigned, I place my hand in the center of his chest, stand on my tip-toes, and meet his lips with mine in a gentle kiss. I lower myself back down and tell him, “Goodnight, Andrew. I’ll see you in class on Wednesday.”

  I don’t give him a chance to respond as I maneuver around him to the front door. Once inside, I turn and peer around the door as it closes. He’s backing out of the drive. Damn, he still does the things to me now that he did back in high school. Stupid, sexy Andrew.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jordan

  Each turn in the direction of the apartment builds my apprehension. I know it’ll be empty and Susan is gone. But some part of me has been blinded with hope. I’ve fooled myself into thinking that if I don’t go back, that if I prolong it a little longer, I won’t have to face this last piece of finality. Who am I kidding? This is exactly the reason I put up with my mom for the past month. She hovered the whole time. I chose to ignore her close proximity. Now I realize that my dad was right. It was killing her not being able to take my pain away so she did the only thing she knew to do, she stayed near in case I needed her. Now maybe she can heal too, this can’t be easy for either of them. They were pretty close to Susan. Hell, they were more willing to get her help than her own parents.

  Surprisingly, my journey home has come to a close way too soon. I park in a spot outside the apartment building. Leaving the car idling, I try to focus on nothing again. As long as I don’t think about things, I’ll be able to do this. Slowly turning the ignition off, I lean over to grab my bag and laboriously climb out of the car. I walk to the downstairs apartment labeled with red numbers, 127. Once I’m standing before the door, my stomach lurches, almost convincing me I’m going to be sick. Taking a deep breath, I fit the key into the lock and listen for the click as it turns. Everything seems to progress in slow motion. I grasp the handle and twist. It moves easily in my hand, forcing the door to swing forward. Forcing my feet to move, I step in and suddenly I can’t breathe. Her smell hits my nostrils. I sink to my knees and lose all control. Tears run down my cheeks. My Susan, I’ll never see her again. I shout to no one, “Why? Why did you do it? I could have helped you. Susan, I love you. I miss you.”

  Tears pour out silently while I deflate and lose all of my will to face this.

  ***

  I must have fallen asleep in the entrance to the apartment. I find myself on my side sprawled out on the floor with stiff muscles. Gradually gathering my nerve, I stand up and lean down to pick up my bag. I make my way through the apartment, afraid to focus on any one thing for too long. The bag ends up on the kitchen table, forgoing the bedroom for the moment. The light filtering in through the windows has dimmed, alerting me that I must have slept a while. The clock above the stove in the small box of a kitchen reads 6:30. I was out for a few hours. As I make myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, the only food that is edible, I try to focus on only the simple mechanics of putting the parts together. My mind involuntarily drifts to our last night together.

  Susan was adamant about going home to her parents’ house but I talked her into staying the night. Her mom had started giving her a hard time every time she stayed over. I thought it was because she wanted to see a ring on her finger. I had intended on remedying that soon.

  We had been at the lake all day, just the two of us. I drove her here instead of home because I wanted her to stay but also because I was so tired. She said she would sleep over only on one condition, if we could do things her way. I remember how I collapsed onto the bed ready to pass out because I was so exhausted but she was so insistent. I watched her from my perch as she moved around the room.

  First, she gathered every candle she could find in the apartment and placed them all over my dresser. Then she turned slow, smoky music on, and with each candle she lit to the beat of the music, she took off one piece of clothing. By the time she lit the last candle, she was completely naked. I loved the sight of her gorgeous, curvy body and the way her chestnut brown hair hung, resting over her full breasts. She was so beautiful.

  She walked catlike to the bed and crawled up my body, kissing her way across my bare chest until she was sliding her tongue into my mouth. Her smell was always so intoxicating. It alone sent me over the edge most of the time. I grabbed her head, holding her there so I could kiss her mouth thoroughly. Once I was satisfied, I moved and rolled her over so I was hovering above her. I stared into her wide brown eyes for a few minutes. She reached down, unbuttoning my shorts, pushing them down partly with her hands and finishing the rest of the way with her foot. This elicited the most perfect giggle from her because she had a hard time getting them all the way off of my feet. After this though, everything turned serious. She grabbed my length and caressed it softly, making me hard.

  Our eyes never leaving one another, I lowered myself to linger over her lips, momentarily causing her to lose her grip. But I didn’t kiss her, instead I took each of her breasts, perfectly fitting in my hands, and sucked, alternating between them, causing her to squirm and moan under me. Then I made my way further down, kissing each and every spot of sensitive skin on her flat, smooth stomach. My hands made their way down to her thighs, caressing back and forth before finally plunging into her soft folds. Her moans became declarations of pleasure, ”Yes, oh yes, Jordan, right there.” I used more fingers to delve further and caress her sweet spot until finally she was yelling out something incomprehensible.

  I moved up her body to kiss her as she grabbed my cock, telling me while smiling, “I want you inside me.” I smiled back and slowly plunged into her, moving in and out languidly but gathering momentum until her legs wrapped around my waist as I plunged as deep as I could get. Finally, I had to release and I called out her name, “Susan!”

  We both collapsed after that session. I told her sweetly as she snuggled against me, “I think I like your way better.” She smiled and fell asleep against my chest.

  I have to hold onto that night with everything. That was our last night together and it couldn’t
have been any more perfect. I take my sandwich to the couch and turn the T.V. on while trying not to remember anything else. This is just torture. I have to face the fact that she’s gone and I’ll never see her again. That really was our last night. I need to remember each and every detail.

  Flipping through the channels, I finally settle on a football game. The Cowboys are playing. Usually I know who’s scheduled to play and what the stats are but right now I have no clue. It’s more like background noise. Once I have my fill of the sandwich, I get up in search of a bottle. There’s only so much a person can take at once. Sitting lonely in the cabinet just waiting for me is an almost full bottle of Jack Daniels. I grab a glass and make my way back to the couch. As I’m about to swallow my third glass, my phone starts to vibrate in my back pocket. Reaching for it, I see my mom’s number flash across the screen. I hesitate, but if I don’t answer it, she’ll keep calling.

  “Hey, Mom, I’m fine.” I don’t even give her a chance to ask.

  “Hi, Jordan. Do you… do you want me to come over and make you some dinner?” She must be really desperate. My mother does not cook. She leaves that to Maria.

  “No, Mom, I’m good. I just finished a sandwich, now I’m working on dessert.” I take another swig at the mention.

  She hesitates. “Okay, honey. Um, please let us know if you need anything.” Before I can say goodbye, she pipes up, “One last thing, have you given any thought to going to counseling?” Her voice becomes quiet as she trails off.

  I sigh, and my rising anger shows in my voice. “No, Mom. I told you before, I just need time. It’s only been a month.”

  I push the end button before she can protest and pour myself another drink. After a while my eyelids start to close on their own. I push up from the couch and stumble to the bedroom. When I get to the entrance, I rest my hands on the door frame, looking around the room, afraid to enter. Her scent is heaviest in here. Without thinking I shuffle to the dresser, still covered with candles. Staring down at them, the grief overtakes me and I scream out, “Susan, why did you leave me?”

  I push them all off the dresser in a rage. They hit the hardwood floor, as if each one is a gunshot to my heart. This is something I deserve for not helping her soon enough, so I look for more. My hands meet with every surface in the bedroom, causing glass figurines and vases to fall and break into a million pieces. In the closet I begin ripping her clothes down from the hangers. Halfway through, my legs can’t hold me up any longer. I collapse to the floor and cry for the love and life I’ve lost.

  ***

  Rays of light reach out and tease my eyelids. I frown before opening them because I don’t remember falling asleep. Opening my eyes, I find myself in the bed. My hand moves up to my head, trying to soothe the oncoming headache. I glance over at my watch to find that it’s already noon. I slept half the day away. I’m not even sure what day it is, actually. Lying here, trying to conjure the energy to get up, I hear shoes click across the wooden floor in the other room. Then my mom’s voice is moving closer to the bedroom. “Jordan, are you here? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all morning. What…”

  Her voice stops as she comes to the doorway. The look on her face is fear, which quickly turns to sympathy. She comes carefully into the room, stepping over the mess I made the night before. She sits down on the bed, grasping my hand in both of hers. She pleads, “Jordan, I really think you need to talk to someone. You were drinking, weren’t you? I saw an almost empty bottle on the table in the living room. I don’t want you to develop a drinking problem because of this.”

  Yanking my hand from her grasp, I hiss, “Because of what? Do you not realize Susan is gone? I won’t get to marry her and spend the rest of my life with her. She was everything to me.”

  “I know, honey, I know you’re hurting. But your father and I are here to help. Your friends are here. You haven’t talked to anyone about it. If you don’t talk about it, you’ll let it simmer, and look what happens.” She gestures around the room. “It’ll come out in other ways.”

  I ignore her, climbing out of the bed and walking around the broken glass to the bathroom. Maybe if I don’t acknowledge her, she’ll leave.

  When I enter the room again, she’s still sitting on the bed with her hands placed properly in her lap as if she’s posing for a picture. My gaze scans the room at the destruction I caused and in that instance I make a decision. “I’m leaving, Mom.”

  She turns suddenly out of her pose. “What? That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard. Where will you go, Jordan?”

  “Not sure. I need to get away and clear my head. I can’t be here right now.”

  Her voice turns shaky. “You can come back home and stay with your dad and I. He won’t ask you to leave again. That was just a big misunderstanding.”

  I shake my head, maneuvering my way around the room, grabbing clothes and a bag out of the closet. This is the first thing that feels right in a long while.

  She gets up and stands there, staring across the room as I move swiftly, gathering things to place in my bag. Not once do I look up to see the pain in her face that she feels for me. She must realize she’s lost this fight. I can’t be where there are any reminders of Susan right now.

  Once I’ve packed and cleaned myself up, I leave the bedroom without a backward glance. My mom had relocated to the kitchen while I took a shower, which now lacks a single dish in the sink or crumb on the counter. Who knew my mom had it in her to clean up? She turns as I enter and gently lower my duffle bag to the floor.

  “Jordan, I don’t think this is a good idea. Having no one around you to talk to will just make things worse. Where will you go?”

  I step forward and gather her in a hug, whispering, “I love you, Mom.”

  Stepping away, I pick up my bag and make my way to the front door, averting my gaze as if my life depends on it. I make it there as soon as possible. Once it’s open and the warm Texas air surrounds me, my body relaxes, taking in my first deep breath since last night. Fitting the bag into the trunk of my car, my ears perk up at the sound of my mom’s heels following me out. I hurry to the driver’s side door and grab for the handle. She places her hand on my shoulder, causing me to turn and face her.

  “Jordan, take care of yourself, okay?”

  I nod solemnly. “I will, Mom.”

  “And call anytime you need to, for anything at all.”

  As she utters the last of her concerns, I turn and climb into the car. Staring at the apartment I shared with Susan, I know this is no longer my home. I’m not sure where home is now.

  Chapter Twelve

  Kimber

  A month passes without another word from Andrew. He doesn’t glance at me once during class when I’m there. I don’t bother speaking to him, mostly out of sheer embarrassment. I probably chased him off with my desperation. Now that I’ve come to my senses though, I’m determined Becca and Heidi don’t know what they’re talking about. Sex is overrated. Yeah right, and I’m really the Easter Bunny.

  On a Friday I wake with the sun and Momma’s insistent badgering. I shower and put on a sundress covered in blue daisies matched with silver flip flops. Our kitchen encounter is the same every morning with subtle variations, but today Momma seems a little more with it. She has already made coffee and she’s dressed in loose fitting jeans topped with a yellow tank top. Still sitting at the kitchen table smoking, a coffee cup is the only thing containing liquid in front of her. She looks up as I glide over to the coffee pot to pour myself a cup. I gather her medicine and glance at my watch, deciding to chance a conversation with her. I lower myself into the chair, and her grey-blue eyes follow mine the whole way, landing on my hands.

  She mumbles in a soft, rough voice still staring at my clasped hands. “Kimber, I know I’ve been hard to live with lately.” I’m a little taken aback. She doesn’t get a response from me right away. Instead I push her container of pills across the table and watch as she deliberately washes each one down with coffee.

&n
bsp; “Momma, I know it’s not really your fault. I just want you to get better.” My eyes rest on her shaking hands as she sets the pill container down. I wish she was as well and vibrant as she used to be. I miss that version of my momma. This one just seems to have given up.

  Her tone turns bitter and accusatory. “Do you think I want this?”

  Her hands move, gesturing and shaking as she speaks. I get up, deciding that this brief mother/daughter bonding moment is over. As I turn to walk out of the kitchen she calls out, “This isn’t what I wanted for you and your sister. I didn’t want you to have to take care of me. It’s my job to take care of you girls. But see what happens when things get hard, your sister up and left when things got too tough for her.”