My eyes burned and I looked down, no longer steady enough to look into his eyes. He squeezed my hand, rubbing his thumb along the back of it. “I’ll be fine,” I whispered.
“You always say that, Eliza. You swear you’ll be fine, but that’s when you’re hurting the most.” I hated how much he knew me. “Eliza, sweetie,” he said, his voice wavering and causing me to look up. “Just don’t lie to yourself. Don’t lie to him. Do it the right way. Don’t run from it. It’ll kill you just as much as it’ll kill him.”
“Gage will be fine, Dad,” I snapped. “He’ll be doing just great without me, just like he was before. He’ll move on. He’ll be fine.”
“And that’s what bothers you most? The fact that he can move on with whomever he’d like and you can’t.”
“I can,” I retorted. Suddenly, I was blinded with rage and hating this whole conversation. It all started to come to me again. After this week, he would be back at it and it would be like I never existed.
“You could, but you wouldn’t want to,” he said. “Eliza, be honest with me. Do you love him?”
I frowned, hesitating slightly. “No.”
“Are you sure about that? Think about it. All the time you two have been spending together. All the nights you two have shared. All the smiling you’ve done. I’ve seen you smile more this summer than any other time of your life. He’s made you happy and you’ve enjoyed the feeling.”
I shook my head, pulling my hand away. It wasn’t what I wanted to hear. “Why are you defending him now when you’re the one who told me to be careful of my heart while we’re together?”
“That was before I saw how much you really meant to him—before I noticed how much more time he was spending with you than his own band, the guys he grew up with. I notice these things, Eliza. I know love. I’ve been in it. You’re in love, so stop lying to yourself. Stop wallowing about it.”
“I’m not wallowing,” I muttered. “And I’m not in love.”
“You are and it’s annoying as hell, sweetie.” He was trying to be sympathetic, but I knew I was getting on his nerves. “You just don’t wanna be ‘cause you don’t wanna get hurt. Because you know you’ll have to go.”
I finally caved in, drawing in a slow breath while staring at my menu again. Tears stung my eyes and I tried to fight against them, but one fell eventually and dropped onto my lap. “I know after I’m gone it won’t be the same, Ben. Even if I do want more, I can’t have it because we’ll be separated. I’ll be in school and he’ll be… wherever. I’ll be living a normal life and he’ll still be living the fast life. Girls will continue throwing themselves at him and I’ll start to fade into nothing. It’s not like he’s going to deny the girls that cross his path. I’ll slip away from his memory. He’ll drink, party, and forget about me and what we had because it’s who he is and it’s how he’ll always be. It’ll be like we were non-existent. That’s how this fling was supposed to end… right?”
Ben was quiet for a moment, his lips pressed. His silence was really getting to me as he sipped his water, raked his wavy hair, and pursed his lips at me. I was about to yell at him to speak—to say something—but before I could, he said something to me that repeated in my mind for the rest of the evening. “Talk to him about it and see how he really feels. Don’t assume. It’ll only continue to bother you if you don’t know the truth, Eliza.”
It sucked that he was right.
Ben and I stopped by the FireNine tour bus. I decided to stick around with Deed while Ben left with Terri to check on the crew and make sure everything was going to be okay for the show on Saturday night. Deed was lying on the couch, playing a video game, his feet kicked up on the coffee table. I was sitting across from him, completely confused on how shooting zombies was so enjoyable. It kind of freaked me out.
“Do you watch The Walking Dead?” Deed asked, looking at my grimace toward the TV screen.
I shook my head. “No. What is it?”
“A kickass zombie show. Roy and me used to watch it all the time. We haven’t had much time lately, but I swear it’s the shit.”
I shook my head again, laughing. “I hate zombies. They freak me out. A virus might break out one day and kill us all. Then we’ll start eating each other and that’s just… gross.” I shuddered from the horrid thought.
Deed chuckled. “Funny, Eliza.”
He clicked away at his game controller and I sighed, looking toward the kitchen. “Do you want me to make something to eat? I’m not sure what you guys have, but I can try and whip something up.”
“You cook?” he asked, eyebrow raised, his eyes still on the TV screen.
“Yes,” I laughed, pushing from the sofa. “I cook for Ben all the time when we’re at home.”
“Oh. You don’t look like a cooker.”
“Exactly how does a ‘cooker’ look?” I countered, teasing.
He shrugged and then snorted. “Like my mom.”
I giggled, stepping around the sofa to get to the kitchen. I pulled the cabinets open, seeing what I had to work with. There were macaroni noodles in one cabinet, a bottle of wine in another, cheese in the fridge, a jar of honey, and a can of corn. I opened the freezer and there were frozen ham slices in a TV dinner box. It was odd seeing all the separate food, but I grabbed the macaroni noodles, the block of cheese, the corn, the honey, and the ham.
“How about macaroni and cheese with honey glazed ham slices and a side of corn?” After I asked, it sounded funny and Deed laughed the same time I did.
“Sure. Anything’s fine, Eliza.”
I nodded, turning to grab a pot beneath the counter and fill it with water. I dumped the noodles into it, added a few pinches of salt, and then scrambled around for a cheese grater. While grating the cheese, it became silent and I looked up quickly, but Deed was already looking at me, his head tilted to the side. I forced a smile, thinking he’d snap out of his stare and look away, but he didn’t.
“Are you okay?” I asked, still forcing a smile.
He shook his head no. He continued staring at me until his eyes started glistening and he jerked away his gaze. He placed his game controller down, shaking his head and grunting as he stood from the sofa.
“Do you need help?” I asked, stopping my grating. He shook his head again.
“Just need to use the bathroom,” he said, limping his way toward the hallway. I watched him until he was out of sight, my eyebrows drawn in with concern. Water ran in the bathroom so I started grating the cheese again.
After mixing some honey with brown sugar, I coated the slices of ham and stuck them in the oven. Now all I had to do was wait for the macaroni noodles to be done. I sighed, folding my arms and leaning against the counter. Deed came out of the bathroom seeming much better. His eyes weren’t glistening.
As he entered the front room again, he met my gaze and smiled. Limping his way toward the kitchen table, he sank down into one of the seats, looking directly at me. “There’s something I wanted to ask you,” he said.
I swallowed, nodding as I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Okay.”
“I was so rude to you—mean to you when it wasn’t even your fault. I’m sorry for that, seriously,” he said, running a heavy hand through his dark hair.
“It’s okay,” I murmured.
He nodded, swallowing noisily. “Why’d you do it?” he asked.
“Do what?” It wasn’t that I didn’t know what he was talking about; I just didn’t want to relive it again, for him or myself.
“Why did you step in?” he asked. “Why were you going to take the blow for me?”
I looked into his eyes thoughtfully and his were serious, desperate for an answer. Finally he blinked and I sighed, pressing my lips. “I just… I know how much it hurts to be… hurt by someone that you think loves you. I didn’t want you to hurt anymore.”
“So you stepped in the way and tried to take that hurt away from me?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Wow,” he breathed, his head lowering. He stared at the table for a few minutes, and to find something to do to occupy myself, I checked the oven. I then checked the noodles and saw they were done. I grabbed a strainer, dumped the noodles, and ran some cold water over them. “Thank you, Eliza,” Deed said from the table. I stopped the water, looking at him slowly. His eyes were soft, sincere. A few tears had run down his cheeks, but a small smile was on his lips.
I placed the noodles down hurriedly, rushing to his side to hug him. “You don’t have to thank me, Deed.” I sighed, hugging him tighter, but not enough to hurt his ribs. He sniffled, running the back of his hand across his nose and getting rid of the tears, but after a while he gave up on it because the tears kept streaming. We stayed that way for a while until he stopped crying. When he did, I pulled away and sat in the seat across from him.
“I just don’t get why you’ve allowed him to hit you for this long. Why didn’t you fight back?”