Finding A Way Read online

  The girl’s gestures, along with her laughs, became flirtatious the more I watched the two of them. Their bodies acted like they were comfortable with each other, like they knew each other in a way which was more intimate than friends.

  My heart fell to my stomach and my chest constricted on point. The girl placed her hand on Derrick’s chest and leaned in to kiss his cheek softly. I was frozen. I couldn’t move, nor breathe for that matter. I watched him whisper something secretive in her ear while she giggled loudly, this time placing both hands on his chest.

  I watched Derrick look around the bar, scouting for anyone who could see the two of them. Little did he know, even though Sierra was blocking me from his view, I had a clear view of what happened next. He leaned down and stole a kiss from the girl before taking her hand and leading her out the door.

  Sierra hadn’t seemed to notice my face fall in front of her. I quickly cut her off, excusing myself so I could follow Derrick and the mystery girl.

  I parted the crowd as I stalked toward the door I knew held our fate in its hands. Pushing it open, I scanned the dimly lit parking lot for any sign of him, but there was none. My palms were sweating and my chest was aching with the need to just breathe. I couldn’t do it. My heart wouldn’t allow it because deep down, I think I knew something was very wrong.

  After walking around aimlessly for a good five minutes, I gave up and headed back into the bar. I saw Derrick standing at the bar again chatting to the bartender, but this time he was alone. Was I seeing shit? Was I so nervous about marrying him that I was subconsciously looking for a reason to leave him?

  I walked toward him thinking I was losing my mind when once again, my eyes confirmed what had happened. I saw the girl dancing in a group of people who I assumed to be her friends. She was real. It really had happened.

  My feet moved quicker until I stood directly in front of him. He was sipping a glass of dark liquid I instantly knew as bourbon. I knew the smell. The smell consumed me on a daily basis for the past year. I knew its taste and I definitely knew its color.

  “What the hell are you doing, Derrick!” I shouted at him.

  He looked at me calmly, placing his glass down on the bar.

  “It’s one drink, Cal. Calm down.”

  “One drink? You’re not supposed to be drinking anything!”

  “I’m not an alcoholic, Cal! I can have a damn drink! I can enjoy one drink before I never drink it again!”

  I looked at the female bartender as she gave me a nervous glance and that’s all it took to know he was lying. She pitied me because she knew the truth. I needed to know the truth for myself.

  “Can we close out the tab please?”

  Her head shook yes but it was a nervous movement. She was nervous about giving me the truth.

  “Cal! This is ridiculous! We’ve been here for two hours and you’re already closing out the tab?”

  We stared at each other, seeing which of us would break first, but I won. Derrick threw his hands up in defeat, telling the bartender to indeed close the tab. I watched her tap away on her register until a long white paper receipt printed out. Before she could hand it to him, I grabbed it out of her hand and read down the list of drinks on it.

  I counted each bourbon on the rocks, which there were six of them. He had been drinking the entire night. He lied, which led me to my next argument.

  “Not only have you been drinking all night, but you had the nerve to bring that shitty fake I.D. when you’re supposed to be quitting! We agreed to leave them at home! You don’t see mine here, do you? And after all of that, you have the nerve to flirt with that girl in front of me! You’ve got to be kidding! Why would I ever agree to marry you when you’re a liar and a cheater?”

  The entire bar was watching us fight. Sierra had made it to my side, where she held my hand in hers supportively.

  He leaned into my space, his nose almost touching mine in an effort to take the attention off of us.

  “We’re not doing this here, Cal. Let’s go home and talk about this,” he seethed at me.

  I hated all the unwanted attention from the crowd as much as he did and I think at that point, I wanted to talk about this alone as well.

  “Fine. Give me your keys. I’m driving,” I snapped, holding my hand out.

  His nostrils flared and I knew immediately the old Derrick had come back with vengeance. He was pissed because I was calling him out for being drunk.

  “I’m fine. I can fucking drive Callie. I’ve done it a thousand times.”

  He spun on his heel and stormed out of the bar where I followed on his heels.

  “Derrick! Give me the damn keys! You can’t drive! You’re not invincible!”

  We had made it to the car, and when Derrick got in the driver’s seat, I knew I wouldn’t win this battle. We had this fight every time we went out and he was drinking.

  I’m not sure why I didn’t fight him harder, but I let him start the car and pull out into traffic. It was a mistake. I sat in the passenger seat fully sober, when we crashed into a large SUV. I remember knowing something bad would happen. It was as if for a moment, I could see the future. The moment the two cars collided, I recall picturing myself walking down the aisle on my wedding day. An odd thing to see, but I guess crazy shit happens when you think you're going to die. You know the saying your life flashes before your eyes? I guess in this case, the saying was true.

  In the vision, my dad was by my side dressed in his black and teal tuxedo, a grin stretched from ear to ear with pride. It was an expression on him I'll never forget. Seeing my father so happy I was getting married was a blessing on its own. A blessing I hope to still experience someday. Sierra was my maid of honor, looking just as beautiful as she would on her own wedding day. The bridesmaid dresses I had chosen, a beautiful hue of teal, accented her dark skin. They matched the guys’ suits, and the length of the dresses hit the church floor. Everyone in the Calla Lily filled room was beaming with happiness for Derrick and me, or so I thought. When I got to the altar, my nerves spiked, and my heartbeat sped up. I couldn't believe this was it. Derrick and I would finally be together for the rest of our lives. Then Derrick lifted my veil and my line of sight was directed toward his handsome face I loved more than anything in the world. However, when my eyes met his, Derrick wasn't there. It was different. He was different. My loving Derrick wasn't the man I was marrying. It was a face I had never seen before.

  I repeated the vision to Dr. Finn a thousand times and, still, she and I never figured out who the man at the altar was. She asked me to describe him, but I couldn't. I still can't. I remember everything else about it, every small detail, down to what type of flowers were there, but I can't recall him.

  During the accident, I had my seatbelt on so I had minimal injuries. I made it out alive with only a few bruised ribs, some cuts, and a massive amount of scrapes. I also made it out with some serious emotional issues as well. However, Derrick didn't have his seatbelt on. He never wore one and that night, something as little as not wearing a seatbelt cost him his life. He was thrown from the vehicle and ended up dying on impact. I scrambled out of the car, hearing the screams of the woman driving the SUV. I couldn't see anything except Derrick on the road. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't speak, I couldn't even cry at first. The other driver was the one whose screaming polluted every inch of my mind and body that night. The sight of Derrick lying across the dark road was so gruesome I didn't even think it was him at first. When I got close enough to see it was indeed him, I found my voice and my tears. I screamed and cried until I had no voice left. I cried until my tear ducts were dry. I wouldn't leave the scene despite the pleas of my parents and Sierra. The police had to put handcuffs on me in order to make me leave and I still fought them tooth and nail. Something that fucked up has a way of staying with a young mind, and it never left me alone for a minute.

  The guilt still hangs over me. I don't think it will ever go away. I've stayed away from dating since that night. Living in a small to
wn, everyone associated me with Derrick’s death. The town heard about my mental state, as they refer to it, and that being said, no one wants to end up alone with the crazy girl. I was a complete loner for the past three years and surprisingly, I was okay with it.

  In two days, I'll be far away from this place, heading to Boston to attend college. The fall semester starts Monday, and if I'm being honest here, I'm ready to get the hell out of this place. I chose to major in Business since I studied it for a year anyways.

  I pull into the driveway of my parent’s massive house and sit inside the car for a minute before hopping out as usual. I stare at the house I've been occupying for what feels like the last time. Their house is something you'd expect to see in the suburbs, but instead, it's placed in the middle of nowhere. It's a three story contemporary home that includes an in-ground pool, a four room guest house, a theater room, and a game room which runs the length of the entire house. When my father brought me here for the first time, I hated it. I hated its stupid white paint job and the brown wooden shutters that sit aside each window. I could already tell then this house would change everything for our family, and it did.

  After reminiscing about the house I've grown to hate, I step out and make my way inside the glass front door and up to my bedroom. I look around at my belongings all packed in boxes, taped up, and ready to be loaded into the moving truck tomorrow. I take a deep calming breath. This is it. My fresh start. My chance to start over and find myself.

  Sierra is driving down from Boston with her boyfriend, Evan, to help me load everything. She's been waiting for my freedom almost as long as I have. I can’t thank her enough for letting me move into her three-bedroom apartment where she and Evan live.

  Hearing my phone ringing on my nightstand across the room, I make a dash for it, tripping over clutter. I smile, seeing it’s Sierra calling.

  "Hey!" she shouts.

  I can hear music playing in the background. It's so loud that my ears are ringing, which doesn’t surprise me. Sierra listens to music with the decibels of a nightclub at all hours.

  "You there?" I ask, speaking a little louder this time. I hear a rustling noise before she replies.

  "You all ready to go?" she yells into the phone, causing me to pull the phone back from my ear. Once my hearing returns back to normal, I answer her excitedly. She doesn’t understand how ready I am.

  "I'm more than ready! You still coming Friday?" I hear her voice get small as she speaks.

  "Actually Cal, there was a slight change of plans..." Crap.

  A sad feeling works its way through my body and my head lowers down to find my hands.

  "You're not coming?" I ask anxiously. It's not like I need her to pack up all my shit into the truck, but having her and Evan’s extra hands would definitely make things easier on my muscles. The fact they’re bringing the moving truck is also a big help.

  The doorbell chimes downstairs suddenly.

  "Sierra, hold on. Someone's at the door."

  I walk downstairs and look out the window next to the front door, but I can't see anyone. Being less than five feet in height is always a challenge regardless of the situation. I unlock the deadbolt, cracking the door to see out it.

  "Surprise!" I hear.

  I have to blink twice to make sure my eyes aren't playing tricks on me. In front of me stands Sierra in the flesh, practically ripping the front door open to get me. She pulls me into a bear hug, and I try to find my words. I honestly thought she wouldn’t make it by the way she was talking a few minutes ago. I thought I would get stuck packing a moving truck all by myself, and that would have sucked, majorly.

  I toss my phone on the end table near the door, stepping over the threshold and hugging my best friend back tight. I missed her. Even though we talk almost every day, talking to someone on the phone, and having the real living thing in front of you, is entirely different.

  "I thought you weren't coming!" I squeal in excitement as we both jump up and down in unison.

  This is what I need. My best friend who can help me get a fresh start. A chance to put everything bad behind me. No worries, no overbearing parents, no more wondering who is giving me a dirty look when I walk through town. No one will know what happened unless I want to tell them, and that's what I'm betting on.

  "Did you really think I wouldn’t come here for you? I've been waiting for you to get out of the loony bin for years now, bitch." I laugh and give her a small push on the shoulder.

  "Don't go around yelling that too loud! People think I've been in Malibu on vacation!" I joke.

  This is why I can't wait to get the hell out of here. Unlike my parents and this entire town of people, Sierra doesn't think I'm crazy. She knows my parents blew it out of proportion just so their social circle would feel bad for them instead of talking about them behind their backs. Their rich friends are judgmental assholes if you ask me. I try to stay clear of them as much as possible. There's no denying the truth though. I don't like them or their spoiled little kids. And they definitely don't like me.

  "Vacation. You're funny," she teases.

  Grabbing me by the arm she drags me onto the stoop outside, forcing me out of the doorway. I step outside, the summer air warming my skin. It's the perfect time of year when some days are still hot, but the majority of them have cooled down to a comfortable temperature.

  "Move your ass woman. My two favorite people need a proper introduction! You have to meet Evan!" Sierra says, pulling me down the steps. She tugs me with a little more force before dropping the bomb on me which has the opportunity to change everything. "... And his friend."

  Friend? She never mentioned bringing anyone except herself and Evan, but then again she didn't mention coming a day early, either. Please don't be hot. Please be the ugliest friend I've ever seen.

  I haven't given any men a second glance lately. Truth be told, that's because none of the guys, or rather, the boys—definitely not men around here haven't floated my boat in the right way. Knowing Sierra and her delicious taste in men, her boyfriend and his friend will be the hottest guy on the planet. I'm talking drooling-on-myself-cut-their-picture-out-of-a-magazine-and-tape-them-to-my-wall-and-try-not-to-lick-the-picture kind of hot.

  My curiosity sparks. I let her lead the way over to her car and the moving truck sitting in the driveway. I spot two men leaning casually against the truck, smoking cigarettes, looking all tough and rugged. I knew it—drool-worthy.

  The first guy is shorter than the other. He has shaggy black hair which almost gives him a grunge look, tattoos spaced proportionally on his arms, and a killer smile. He's dressed in a pair of Chuck Taylor's, like me, except his aren’t pink. His muscular build is complemented by a blue V-neck T-shirt and light washed denim jeans. He's very attractive, but I assume from the way he beams at Sierra the entire time, he is Evan. He watches her with such adoration, it makes butterflies fly around in my own stomach. He's obviously crazy over her. Sierra is every man's fantasy wrapped into one tall, thin, blonde package.

  I flick my gaze to the other man who stands much taller than Evan and much more muscular, also with tattoos. He has so many more than Evan that I couldn't count them if I tried. There is no bare skin on his arms; every spot is filled with designs and eye popping color. I look him over slowly. He has short brown hair, even shorter on the sides, which screams for me to pull on it. The day old stubble covering the lower half of his face is what sex is made of. I can't stop the thoughts of what it would feel like rubbing against my thighs. He's rugged and absolutely all man. His black t-shirt seems stretched, getting ready to rip in half at any minute by his muscular upper body. I watch his muscles ripple, the pure strength of them amazing. He smokes his cigarette, not letting on that he knows I’m watching him. My mouth waters at the thought of the six pack I just know lies underneath his tight t-shirt. His legs are covered in ripped dark blue jeans and he wears a pair of black work boots. To say he's just good looking is an understatement. He's as sexy as they come. Too bad he’s a
broken heart waiting to happen.

  I try to imagine what he does for a living, but there are too many possibilities. Bouncer? Maybe. Police officer? Probably not. Construction? Good possibility as well. Bodybuilder? This one could be the winner, but the fact he doesn't look like a meat head has me second-guessing it as a no.

  The shorter guy makes the first move, snapping me from my mystery man trance. He extends his hand, which I accept graciously. His hands are large, but my guess is mystery man's will be larger. I bet nothing on his body is small. A man can't look like that and have anything less than the best of everything.

  "I'm Evan. Nice to finally meet ya. I know we've talked on the phone a couple times but, it's nice to meet ya in person," he begins, showcasing his beautiful white teeth.

  I can't help but blush at his Boston accent which lingers when he speaks. I move in to give him a hug, letting out a small laugh. He accepts my offer and I instantly know we will be good friends. His hug speaks volumes, telling me he already cares about me because he cares for my best friend.

  "It's nice to meet you too!" I grin, releasing him from my grip. "Thank you for coming.”

  He shrugs his shoulders, lowering his head to stare at the blacktop which strikes me as odd until I turn to see Sierra glaring at him. If I know my best friend and I think I do, she absolutely threatened him, telling him he better not even look at me in any other way than a friendly way.

  "No problem. It's the least I can do. We will be roomies,” he says, glancing back up to meet my eyes.

  He nods in the other guy’s direction, clearing his throat before he speaks. "That's my buddy Mac. He got suckered into driving the moving truck."

  I turn to face his friend, seeing him reach his hand out like Evan did. I smile brightly at him, placing my hand in his. He’s a lot better looking up close. I don't go in for the hug I gave Evan because chances are I wouldn't pull out of his arms. They look inviting and comfortable as hell.