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My heart pounds in my chest at the phantom feel of him pushing against me, and I shake it off, running toward my bedroom. I slam the door shut, locking the damn knob, and turn toward my sliding glass door. Freedom is within my grasp until I stop dead, freezing in place.
My heart shatters when Callum stands outside the sliding glass door, shaking his head in disbelief. Tears run down his face in rapid succession, falling to the floor, agony twists his face when he wipes away the tears, and his jaw tightens as I’ve never seen before.
"You-you kissed him? So-so, it's true?" His face twists more, pain tearing through him and, in turn, splitting me open with his visual anguish.
“What? What's true? Callum,” I say, reaching for him. “Listen…”
“Goodbye, River,” he rasps through thick emotions in a low voice, sending shivers down my spine. The final nail in the coffin has sealed my fate.
“No, wait!” I shout with desperation cracking my voice when he walks as fast as he can down the sidewalk and fucking disappears into the night, not bothering to let me explain anything to him. I could chase him all night, and he'd still turn his back on me.
How could he walk away without letting me explain anything? How could he not see that Van had assaulted me in the kitchen? Pulling out my phone and texting the group, I don't waste a moment.
River: I know what you think you saw….
River: Please talk to me.
River: He KISSED me…. He did it against my will! I said no! I punched him for fuck’s sake.
River: I didn’t want it.
River: Please…can someone talk to me?
River: Why’re you all ignoring me?
“River,” Van murmurs through the door, lightly knocking against the wood.
“Go away!” I cry out, trying to hold the emotions clogging my throat. “You fucking psychopath! No means no, asshole!” I hiss, sucking in oxygen.
“Look, I’m sorry. I… I still love you, Rivey. I can’t help it. I won’t leave until I know you’re okay,” he says with concern, tapping on the door again.
“I’ll be okay when you fucking leave!” I shout through shuddering breaths, feeling the warmth of my tears spreading down my cheeks as my heart breaks into a million pieces.
“Fine,” he says softly, “but I’ll be a phone call away when you need me. I’ll always be there for you, Rivy. Whether you like it or not.”
Crawling into my cold bed, I silence my sniffles with my comforter until the sound of my front door slams shut, leaving me with only the tumultuousthoughts wreaking havoc inside my brain. Here I am, once again alone like I always thought I’d be on the night before my mother’s funeral.
I stare at my phone for hours, counting the minutes until the sun rises, and I heave myself out of bed. The same numbness sets in like before. This time, it wraps me in its arms like a hug that I embrace, carrying with me all day.
I expect to see the guys coming to pay their respects throughout the funeral, but they never show—not even a quick pop-in to say goodbye. Unlike them, Van dares to show his face, filled with massive amounts of sympathy. He even drops flowers at my front door with a note apologizing for his actions and asking me to call him. My heart sinks when the funeral wraps up, and I’m left with one last pitying look from a pastor I’ve never met before going home.
That night, I settle into my cold bed by myself. The loneliness presses in on me from all sides, squeezing my chest. Usually, Callum is here by now, kicking off his shoes and climbing into bed with me. Sometimes with Rad in tow. It's been three miserable nights without them. Longing sets in, making me reach for my phone again.
For the thousandth time, I check my messages and sigh. They've all been sent, but the boys have not seen or acknowledged them. What the fuck is going on? They can't seriously think I'd ever kiss Van voluntarily or enjoy it. They've seen how many times I've refused his advancements. There's something more going on than meets the eye, but I don’t have the energy to inspect it.
My eyes refuse to shut as the painful memories of the last few days play through my head. The look Callum gave me when he shook his head full of disappointment and took off will haunt me for the rest of my life.
And, they got into the Battle of the Bands and didn't bother to tell the one person who rooted for them since the beginning—me.
“Andyouhaven’theardfrom them?” Ode asks, biting the edge of her nail with suspicion.
Her eyes follow me through the entire disgusting bathroom of the bar I’m pacing through. Watching as I slowly spiral into the dark abyss of bullshit that my life keeps serving up to me on a pretty plate of fuckery. “Like, they just dropped off the edge of the earth?” Her shrill voice echoes throughout the bar bathroom, bouncing off the tiled walls.
I shrug, continuing my pacing in the small space of the bathroom.
“No. Not a fucking word,” I seethe, anger brewing like a firestorm under my skin. If I get my damn hands on them again, I'll wring their necks and make them wish they had died a slow death. “I’ve fucking called and texted, and it always goes unanswered.” Every goddamn day. Every hour. I'm desperate to get their attention or make them talk to me. Fucking cowards!
My fists curl at my sides, desperate to lash out and punch the damn wall, but I stop myself. Taking a breath, I waltz back over to Ode and shake my head.
