Hustle

I jerk awake like I’ve fallen from a great distance, but I’m still tangled in sheets, pulse pounding and breathing shallow as I scan the darkness, struggling to separate nightmares from reality.

Banging.

I stop everything, my sore body locking up. I stop breathing. I stop moving. Someone’s pounding at the door and a scream bubbles up from my stomach, but I trap it in my throat as I pray they go away. But when another round of knocks starts, I force myself from bed, even though I want to curl up under the covers and hide. I know I can’t be lying down if TJ is here. The knock is forceful enough to be his.

“Brook¸” it’s Drew, and I nearly collapse as terror drains from me at the sound of his voice, “open the door. Answer—”

I pull the door open, muscles vibrating with sheer relief of the moment, at the site of only him. Before I can take my next breath, I reach for him, wrapping my arms around him, pressing to his damp chest, closing my eyes to everything else.

His arms are tight around me, the warmth of his body seeping through the chill of his rain soaked clothes. He holds still for a moment before hesitant hands move to my hair, sliding strands off the side of my face.

“I thought you were coming over tonight, but when you didn’t show up and didn’t answer my call,” his fingers slip down my back with a sigh, “I thought you were maybe mad, but this…” His lips graze the top of my head as he dips to speak, “What’s going on?”

I force myself to let him go and take a step back, tearing apart from him, from the temporary comfort he gives. His words are a painful reminder that I have no answers.

He steps into the room with me, closing the door behind him, shutting out the light from the hallway. We stand in a dim silence, both of us cast in shadows. But I can feel his gaze; even as I stare at the floor, trying to disappear into the sweat suit I’m wearing. Wanting to disappear.

“Are you mad?” He takes a step towards me.

I draw further into myself, barely moving my lips as I talk, barely breathing. “I’m tired.”

His movements are quiet rustles in the dark. The straightening of my sheets in a quick lift that spreads it in the air. Then his shirt puddles on the floor.

“What are you doing?” My heart’s jittery and unsure. I grip my sleeves in my hands as each of his boots drop to the carpet with a soft thump.

“You’re tired.” His jeans slide off his legs, and when he rises up straight, he reaches for me. “Come here.” I don’t move and he picks up my hand with a gentle tug. “You need to lay down. You didn’t sleep last night because of me. Here—”

“No.” I grab the bottom of my sweater to stop him from lifting it off of me. “I’m cold, and I just want to sleep. You should go.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He drops the edge of my sweater and his hand comes to my cheek.

I shouldn’t look at him. Even in the dark room, he’s searching me, his eyes flicking all over my face with questions burning.

“Let me lay with you.” He lowers his warm, full lips to my lips.

It gives me air and squeezes my lungs at the same time. His movements are slow, lips moving by centimeters, bodies moving by inches, but somehow we end up on the bed. Sitting, then lying, all the while connected by soft touches and soothing kisses.

He pulls the covers up to my shoulders, his lips trailing over my face to my forehead as he pulls me into his body. “Are you still cold?”

I shake my head, closing my eyes against the tears that want to fall, but it’s all out of my control—even this moment. Especially this moment. I should tell him to leave. I should confront him about Tatum… but how? When I wasn’t there. I never heard anything because I was never at Kyle’s today. And how am I suppose to push him away, when I ache to pull him close, to let him soothe and hold me till I don’t hurt. Till I truly forget. For tonight, I’ll take this. I need it. I need someone. I need him.

“Baby,” his fingers swipe at my cheek, “why are you crying? What’s wrong?” He sinks down the mattress till he’s level with my face, and he holds my head between his hands so I can’t escape.

There’s concern in his wide eyes, but also stillness, a calm that I’m desperate for. I sink into it, into him. And my voice comes out steady. “I’m just exhausted from staying up all night and day.” I move my hand to his cheek. “I get emotional when I’m tired. You had to have noticed by now I cry a lot. Too happy, too sad, too angry…” I swallow down the last of my tears. “Too tired, I cry.”

His eyes narrow and grip tightens, but it all dissolves with his release of breath, and he pulls me back into his body that’s already heated the space under the covers like a furnace. “Then sleep.”

My head nods under his chin. “You’ll stay?”

“As long as I can.” His lips press to the top of my head, and I close my eyes, escaping to sleep in his arms. This moment fading into a dream.

The rhythmic sound of rain against the window is interrupted occasionally by the sound of college students shutting doors and moving around outside my dorm. I’m content to stay like this all day, secluded in my now empty bed, especially since my shower this morning revealed bruises on my thigh and hip. But more concerning are the shadows of bruising low around my neck, the left side darker than the right.

I already skipped my dance class and am prepared to skip the rest, but Drew said he’d come back after practice and class. I need to get it together by then, figure out how to deal with him. With everyone.

Turning my phone back on is my first step. Immediately, the screen fills with missed texts, Rose’s is at the top, and I click it, anxiety aching my bones because I hadn’t thought of her and where she was. I’d been relieved to be left alone, but now guilt overtakes me.

What if she’s with TJ? What if he’s still angry? What if he hurts her? What if he already has? Questions burst as I pull up the texts, but the phone ringing cuts them off again.

“Rose,” I pick up the moment her name flashes on my screen.

“Finally.” She’s breathless, but happy. “Where are you? Can you get to our room, and get me out an outfit—something cute, but good for the rain. My black leggings and my green sweater, the long one with gold on it. You know the one in my top drawer?”

“Right now? What’s going on?”

“Oh and a matching bra and panty set. Put it in the bag by my bed.” She talks over my question at first. “Yeah, right now. TJ’s going to swing by after practice and pick it up,” she squeals with laughter as I choke on air. “He wanted me to stay. Maybe seeing Andrew change was the push he needed, too. I’m just—”

“I can’t. I’ve got class. I have to go.” I hang up on her, springing to my feet, her words lighting my fear into action.

I don’t bother changing out of my leggings and t-shirt, but I grab my largest hoody to pull over top. Checking the mirror, I make sure the thick fabric covers any marks, and it does—at least with the hood up and hair tucked in.

It’s not till I’m outside, walking in the steady, light rain that I think about where I should go. There’s nowhere to go. So I walk to my English class, arriving late and sitting in the back without talking to anyone. This little bit of normal helps soothe me. Maybe I can pretend. Maybe it will all go away.

But I still text Rose before class is dismissed.

Get your things yet?

There’s no response by the end of class, and I can’t work up the courage to go back to the dorm without knowing if he’s already come or not. I contemplate going home, maybe I will. I probably should, although I’m terrified of facing my mom. She’ll know. She’ll know something’s wrong, and I don’t know how to tell her. I don’t want to talk about it. I need to forget it all.

The overhang of the building protects me from the sporadic rainfall. The library across the quad stands tall and the windows are lit bright against the grey sky. That’s where I’ll go.

Walking in the rain is its own comfort; its own protection since it keeps people away—or at least it should. But all illusion of safety is shattered when Kyle steps to my side.

“Are you all right?” He grips my elbow, water dripping off his hooded raincoat as he tries to pull me back under the cover of the English building.

“Fine.” I escape his loose hold easy enough, but he speeds up his pace to cross in front of me, blocking me.

“He didn’t realize you knew for so long and hadn’t talked, he thought you only just found out,” he speaks low and fast and close to me, getting closer with each word. “Did he hurt you?”

My throat burns, the weight of memory pressing on my chest and squeezing my heart. I pull the edge of my hood lower, avoiding him as I pass by. “Nothing happened.”

“Brook,” he calls after me, but I don’t stop. “I’m sorry.”

My rain boots splash in puddles as I hurry away, but I’m on the wrong path, on the path back to my dorm, not to the library, in my rush to get away.

“Baby.” Drew traps me in his arms. It could be a hug, but it feels like a cage. “You feeling better?” He studies me under the brim of his hat, not letting me go even when I nod. “Wasn’t sure if you were making it to class.”

I evade his lips and his grasp, pulling myself away. “Only this one.”

His stare causes a wave of nerves to roll through me, prickling under my skin, and then he lifts his eyes to look behind me. “What did Kyle want this time? Always seems to have something to say to you.”

“Just the usual,” I try and dismiss it. “Where are you headed?”

“I was on my way to your dorm to check on you…” his gaze narrows as he follows me on the soggy path. “What do you mean the usual?”

I shrug, annoyed with everything, especially his questions. “We cross paths on our way different places. It’s only small talk.”

“Small talk?” He pulls on my arm so I face him.

“That’s what I said,” I’m all reaction, snapping at his suspicion. “Why is it such a big deal?”

“Something’s off. There’s something you’re not saying.”

“You’re what’s off.” I pull away and take a step back. “You keep policing who I talk to, and I can’t stand it. I should be able to have guy friends.”

“He’s not—”

“I know he’s not my friend.” I stomp my foot with frustration—at everything—and look up to the sky, wishing it would open up, but it only spits rain that gets lost in the tree branches above us. “I know I don’t have friends.” I swipe his hand away before he can reach for me. “But I’ll never have friends if you stop everyone from talking to me.”

“I don’t stop everyone. I’m only trying to help you,” he responds with an even, careful tone, and he watches me like I might bolt. I might.

“And how does telling Scott to stay away help me? That was for you. He could be a friend.”

“No guy can be a friend.” He throws his caution away with a harsh laugh. “That doesn’t exist. Guys that claim to be friends are only patiently waiting for a chance between your legs.”

“Not everyone’s like you, Drew,” I spit out his name.

“You’re right. I’m honest about it, other’s aren’t.”

I breathe in the wet air, feeding the anger burning in my gut. “Is that what you’re doing with Tatum, then? Just waiting to…” The words trap in my throat, and I turn away from him before I ruin it with my tears.

“No, it’s not like that with her.”  He snatches my hand and pulls me to him. “Listen to me. I’ve slept with her, you know that.” He raises his head like he’s got to pray. “Jesus, I’m making this worse. I had a relationship with her, as complicated as it was, and I could still have that—but I don’t want it, I want you.” His direct stare disarms me of my anger even as he removes his hat and slides it on backwards.

I gasp in air, unable to decide what step to take. What to say. But my body caves to his slow pull.

“I want you.” His hand slips into my hood and I fall into his lips. The rain makes it slick, but his touch gives warmth in the wet chill. He curls his other arm around me, until I stumble against his chest and he holds me there.

In all the confusion, this is the one thing that feels real, honest maybe. The heat that travels through me with his touch. The natural pull his body has on mine. The way he pulls hope and desire and need and care from me in a heady mix that makes me not want to let him go. All of it feels real. It’s all I want to believe.

He lifts his lips from me with a few parting pecks to the corner of my mouth and cheek. “Can we go back to your dorm now?”

I nod, but pause before pulling out of his arms. “I don’t understand though. You say you chose me, but what does that make Tatum now?”

He sighs a heavy sigh, but eases the pain of it with a kiss to my forehead. “She’s someone I care about, but someone I need to distance myself from.” He drops his arms from my waist, picking up my hand to walk me back to my dorm. “Let’s get inside, and I’ll try and explain it better, to help you understand.”