The Arrangement Anthology 2(96)

He looks at me like it can't be true. "Are you serious? You've only been with Sean?"

I shrug. "It's not like I felt like dating after my parents died, and I didn't want to get knocked up. It would have made life impossible." My goofy smile fades and I roll onto my back, away from him, rubbing the chill off my arms. "I pushed away every guy who tried to get to know me. Well, except Marty, but he was gay."

"Was?"

"Don't get me started on that. My eye will twitch and I'll go all bitch-o on you, and I'd rather not. Remember? We're looking ahead. So, what's in your future, Rock Star?" I glance over at him and wonder what secrets he'll reveal.

Trystan is too quiet, and when I glance his way I notice how he's looking at me. I like it and I don't. Conflict rears within me, because he seems great, but – Sean.

You left Sean and Sean left you. That's over.

Trystan slides next to me and pushes up on his elbow. Looking down at me, he says, "I don't know. You tell me."

"Trystan…" I want to say no, but I can't. I want the embrace he's about to offer. I want the comfort that Sean's never given. "You're not over her."

"And you're not over him." He doesn't move. "Tell me you're not curious, that you haven't wondered about it, about me."

Through my lashes, I look up at him and tell him the truth. "Every girl alive wonders about you."

"So, one night and nothing more. A kiss to comfort, an embrace to heal a weeping heart—I'm not him—you're not her. We both know that, but we don't have to be alone." Trystan is leaning over me, his body only brushing mine when he breathes. He doesn't move. He remains poised above me, looking down. He smiles once and then it fades. "If you want me, for anything, I'm right next to you." He kisses my lips lightly, once, before he returns to his blankets.

I don't know what to do. I love Sean. I want Sean, but he's gone. I told him I couldn't do it anymore and gave him back his ring. Then he said to his mother that we were nothing, and that he was leaving. Sean's gone. That part of my life is over and thinking about it makes me want to cry, balling into my pillows.

But Trystan's words ring in my ears. Look forward. Would a night in his arms be so bad? I want to be held and told that everything will work out. I want to feel loved, and right now I don't, but there's a cure less than two feet away. I could reach out and touch his shoulder. That's all it would take.

What do I want? It's a simple question, but I don't know the answer. Actually, I know what I want, but it doesn't exist. I want Sean. I want his arms around me and I want him to do everything in his power to keep me. Instead, he handed me off and made a trade with his mother. I was gone before our bed was cold. The thought weighs heavily on my heart.

People don't change. I once thought I wanted the monster within, but it's much darker and more dominant than I thought possible. I can't handle it—I can't handle Sean—and I can't be with someone who frightens me. I don't want to be with anyone anymore, but Trystan's offer lingers in the back of my mind.

People do things like he suggested, a night together, to offer comfort and companionship. I like him, I do, but I'm not over Sean. Trystan is clearly stuck on someone else. It seems foolish to be with someone when it's not the one you want. But what do I know?





CHAPTER 7

Closing my eyes, I roll over and try to find sleep. But the water comes, and the nightmares turn real. Somewhere between wake and sleep I can't stand it any longer. I jut upright and scream, waking the man next to me. The windows glow pale yellow from the street light and I remember where I am. I can't breathe.

"Avery?" Trystan's voice is soft, and his hand gently touches my shoulder. "Are you all right?"

I shake my head, unable to speak. "I have a cure for that. Hold on." He's up, disappears, and comes back with a couple of bottles and plastic cups. "Drink up."

"What is it?"

"Something that will make you forget the pain," he looks into the cup, "for a little while anyway."

"What makes you think—"

He cuts me off. "I don't think, I know. When life punches you and you can't punch back, this is what happens. Deal with it tomorrow. For now, drink up." He pours the same mixture into his own cup and clinks it to mine before taking a swig of the contents.

I do the same and nearly spew. "Holy shitty fat cow!" My jaw hangs open as I try to get the taste out of my mouth. "What the hell is this?"

"Knockout juice. Pray the house doesn't catch fire." He takes another swig and blinks as if he can't focus.

I already feel it. My stomach is empty and this tastes like a funky mixture of hard liquor. My head feels strange, but I take another sip and can't help making faces. "This stuff tastes like tar mixed with gasoline."