Drive(64)

I existed before Reid, lived through loving him, and was left to exist again while knowing what living felt like.

“What are you going to do with them?” Ben asked, dragging me out of my stupor as I stared at the box. I could still smell the Irish Spring.

“I’m not doing anything with it.”

Ben furrowed his brows. “Sell them? Well, there’s about six grand in that box.”

“Six GRAND!” Lexi said, clapping her hands before I stopped her with a look.

She read my decision easily. “Oh, hell no, Stella! No. NO!”

I looked to Ben, who caught on just as quickly. “Hell no, after what he did?”

I held Ben’s gaze, mustering up the strength to get my verdict out. But it didn’t matter. The tears were already streaking my cheeks. “You know exactly who these belong to.”

“No,” Ben said, as if he had any say in the matter. He stood, arms crossed, as Lexi backed him up.

“Stop it,” I snapped. My words echoed Reid’s, which only cut me deeper. “You don’t ever turn your back on him, Ben, do you hear me? Ever. You said it yourself. You didn’t have the life he has. He’s in hell. He needs help and refuses to take it, but that doesn’t make it any less hot. You either take these to him or I’ll ship them.”

“Stella, he just left you. Cold as fuck. Cold as I’ve ever seen him. I watched it,” Ben said in a low voice.

I felt my face heat at the hard truth but pressed on. “Ben, I don’t deserve your loyalty, yet. You know him better than anyone else.”

He nodded.

“Then you know he did what he thought was the right thing. And you know those belong to him. He needs them, Ben.”

We stood silent a moment before Ben nodded. “You’re right.”

“I know I’m right.”

“No reason to get cocky.” He winked. “But that’s my girl.”

Lexi stared between us. “Neither of you is right,” she said. “God, Stella, this could pay a year’s rent!”

Even though Lexi knew the story, there really was no way for her to understand. We lived like queens compared to what Reid and I dealt with. And he’d done it a lot longer. Anyone that had never really gone without couldn’t truly understand that kind of poverty. How it robs your soul and warps your mind to believe the worst. Bearing witness to it and sympathizing isn’t living it. Even in the state I was in, some part of me recognized that I was too enamored, too blinded by love, that I didn’t see the reality, even when it was written all over everyone else’s face, especially Reid’s. And love wasn’t enough to stop the dimming light in his eyes or the defeat in his heart.

“Don’t give up on him,” I whispered to Ben, who held my gaze. “I promise you he’ll surprise you.”

Though I wasn’t sure I believed my words at that point, I begged Ben to believe me.

“I’m going to see him at his parents’ this weekend—”

I held up my hand as my heart raced. “Just tell them they were delivered to his apartment and the manager called Paige. Okay? He won’t take them if he knows they’re from me.”

“He’s not stupid, Stella.”

“Please, Ben. Please,” I said as more tears fell. “Convince him.”

Ben nodded. “And what if he asks about you?”

Would he even bother? I would never get over the look on his face the last time I saw him. As if he was completely void of feeling. A wall of anger mixed with a promise that had nothing to do with me.

“Tell him I’m mad. He’ll believe that. Tell him I won’t shut up about what an asshole he is. He thinks . . .” I croaked as I hung my head with a shaky breath. “He probably thinks I was just some kid with a crush.”

“That’s all fine and dandy, Stella, except you stopped talking, you don’t fucking eat, and you never sleep,” Ben said as he looked me over.

“Lie, Ben. And do a good job of it, okay? Everyone warned me. Everyone, including Reid. I’m the one who pushed us together. This isn’t his fault. He’s probably already forgotten about me.” I walked down the hall and shut my bedroom door.





Numb

U2



Heartache has the most annoying sound. It’s an echo. An echo of heartbeats stuck on a loop. But the good news was there was always a new sound to take its place. And I spent my days searching for it. After Ben returned from Nacogdoches, less one set of Ferrari drums, I forced myself to start searching for a new sound. I wanted out of the loop. I wanted to forget about my shitty three-month start in Austin, my sister, and the man who exiled himself from my life.

I got a job . . . as a waitress. Because short hours and good money were the only solutions when you had a full semester of credits to earn, which I did.

And as I walked through campus my first day at UT, a calm settled over me. It was the one thing that had gone according to plan. I felt safe. Even if Reid said it was an illusion.

I had to forgive music, and so I went all in.

My iPod was filled with nothing but aggression, and I stomped across campus on a mission.

I delivered frothy beers at the infamous Maggie Mae’s on 6th, killing two birds with one stone. I got to hear live music from the up and coming while I made money. It made sense. Everything was coming together, except for the jagged pieces of myself that rattled around in my chest like a noisy piece of costume jewelry.