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“The car’s right here.” I hear Chuck. They drag me to the car that I parked only a few steps away from where I was lying, the key still in the ignition. And then everything blurs. It darkens, and I disappear. I fade away into the night. But before everything becomes dark, I see Ellie’s face. I see her smile, hear her laugh, and feel her touch. It’s the last thing I hold on to that I know is real before I fade away.
THIRTY-FIVE
ELLIE
Mozzarella, olive oil, and parsley.
I repeat the grocery list my mom gave me before I left the house. I should have written it down but instead, I’m risking myself forgetting one single item and having to return to the store as soon as I walk through my front door.
Mark is coming over tonight, and my mom is cooking “something special.” The initial shock of my mom having met someone has somewhat dissipated, our talk having a lot to do with it, and I’ve finally been able to see my mom with Mark without instantly thinking of my dad. Mark has also finally become comfortable enough to come over to our house a couple of days during the week. His presence in our home has now become a regular thing, and I’m really not opposed to it. It’s made the transition of him being in my mom’s life easier, and I see how happy it’s made her.
My hands are full because I unwittingly decided that I didn’t need a shopping cart and opted to gather everything with my bare hands. She only needs a handful of items, but I keep finding things that I’m having a sudden hankering for. As I find the parsley, I walk straight into the aisle carrying an assortment of chips and candy bars. It’s a lost cause as I peruse, allowing my hand to lead the way and land on a Twix bar and a bag of Twizzlers. I add it to the growing stack of junk food I’ve gathered, ready to stash in my room for another night of binge-watching reality TV.
I struggle to balance everything as I walk to the checkout counter. There’s a short line, but I stand and wait as my eyes wander. More impulse purchases line the aisles along with an array of magazines that are stacked in the wire racks. Then my eyes land on a recent article ofIn Touchmagazine. I’m drawn to it because of the familiar faces zoomed in on, plastered on full display on the cover.
My stomach clenches, and my heart drops.
Rhylan, disheveled and dazed, has his arm draped over Bella Raven, the two locked in a kiss. In bold block letters underneath the picture, it reads:Hot couple alert.
What the hell? He’s dating Bella?
I don’t belong to anyone.
Those were his words. Words he said to me with a solemness that left little room for me to doubt him. But here he is, his lips on Bella’s, contradicting every word he said to me. I feel lied to, completely bamboozled into something I thought was real. I feel like I never knew Rhylan at all.
Then I realize this doesn’t concern me. None of it does. He can go around kissing Bella Raven if he wants. He can kiss anyone he wants to. I have no say. Except he still holds the reins to my heart, and he’s pulling at them when I see his face like this. Like he’s doing this to me, publishing these pictures to hurt me on purpose.
“Miss?” A voice interrupts my thoughts. I look around and realize I’m holding up the line. The cashier looks at me, annoyed that I’m delaying the checkout procession. With my arms still full of groceries, I move along and place everything on the belt. The cashier asks me questions, none of which I hear. I just insert my card into the card reader and pay, my mind remaining in a fog, still unbelieving of what I just saw.
I reach for the plastic bag before the cashier is able to hand me my receipt, leaving him standing there with his hand outstretched holding the long piece of paper meant for me. My walk back to my car is hurried as I move swiftly through the weekend parking lot traffic.
I need to breathe. I need to eat ten candy bars. I need to hole up in my room for an unreasonable number of hours.I need to drive for sixteen hours towards the opposite coast and never look back.I need to breathe.
I get into the driver’s seat and slam my door shut. My hands move to the steering wheel—ten and two position—and I try to steady my breathing. Everything I assumed I knew about Rhylan I question now. I don’t know what was real, if any of it was. I feel so exposed, so betrayed. I feel so lost. I should be angry. I should be livid. I should assume that Rhylan is a sleazy person, someone that took advantage of me, but I can’t bring myself to feel any of those things. I don’t know why. I feel stupid that I can’t bring out the anger in me that I know I should be feeling. Instead, I feel an overwhelming sadness take over me. A grief that I didn’t know I would experience, realizing that I would finally have to let Rhylan go.
My phone rings in my purse, loud and shrill. I jump at the sudden noise, the stillness in my car having created a silence that muted my ears. I look at the screen and it’s a number I don’t recognize.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Hi. Is this Ellie?” the voice on the other end asks.
“Who is this?” I ask without answering the question from the caller. I make no attempt to hide my chagrin. Whoever it is on the other line, they’re just going to have to understand that I’m not in the mood to play guessing games.
“This is Charles. Rhylan’s friend? We met not too long ago,” he says. Charles Bradley. As if I don’t know who he is. He’s just as famous as Rhylan. Of course I know who he is.
“Oh, hi,” I say softly.
“I’m sorry to call you like this, out of the blue, but I wanted to talk to you about Rhylan,” he explains. There’s a moment of silence. As if he’s contemplating how he needs to say his next words. I stay quiet.
“Rhylan’s been in an accident, and he’s in the hospital. He was attacked the other night. He’s going to be okay, physically. He’s just resting right now, but he’s not doing too well otherwise.”
“I don’t know why you’re telling me this,” I answer, not bothering to hide the confusion. After my last conversation with Rhylan, I should be the last person that should be called. Whether he’s lying in a hospital bed, convalescing after an attack, or sitting on a beach sipping a mai tai, I have no business in Rhylan’s life. The pictures I just saw showed evidence of that.
“I know he would want you to know,” he says. “And I think it would mean a lot to him if he saw you.”
“I don’t think so,” I answer too quickly. I close my eyes and lean my head against the window, the cold glass providing comfort as my conscience battles out what to do. A part of me wants to see him. I want to make sure he’s okay. I want to tell him that I miss him and get mad at him for getting himself hurt. But then there’s the other part of me. The part that’s arguing with my sense of reason, telling me that I’ll only end up getting hurt. That my heart isn’t strong enough to be torn apart once again.
“I know you two have had your differences, but Rhylan… He’s got his own demons he’s fighting. And they have nothing to do with you,” Charles explains.
