Ringside Page 3

  I honestly had no freaking clue anymore. I spent so long wishing for this moment when we would finally be together, but I never stopped to wonder what it would look like. As friends we’d been so easy, I never imagined it could get so hard.

  “You okay?”

  I startled. Sam was standing in front of me with a stack of clean towels in her arms, her blue eyes and tan skin reminding me of the girl in the room with Lawson. Both were beautiful California girls, beach blonds to the roots – if Sam would stop dying hers black to hide it. Both were shorter than my nearly six feet and curvy in all the places my body couldn’t imagine. Put us on the beach and these girls were surfers while I was the board.

  “You’re mumbling to the water cooler, you know that, right?” Sam asked slowly, eyeing me.

  “No. I hadn’t realized.” I sighed, rolling my head back to stretch my neck. “I must have spaced out.”

  “Because you don’t sleep.”

  “I sleep.”

  “How much.”

  “Enough.”

  A towel hit me in the face. I stumbled back, shocked. “What the hell?” I demanded.

  Sam shook her head in disappointment. “You’re definitely not getting enough sleep. I underhanded that at you. Should you be tattooing when you’re like this?”

  “Keep your voice down,” I hissed.

  “So that’s a no.”

  “I’m fine. I’ll make it through the day.”

  “We should close the store tomorrow.”

  I sighed, shaking my head. “Don’t start this again.”

  “You need a break.”

  “I need a coffee. Weren’t you making some?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, pinning the towels to her body. “We’re out of filters.”

  “Shit.”

  “We’re out of coffee too.”

  “Shouldn’t you have led with that?”

  She shrugged. “What’s the difference? Can’t make coffee either way.”

  “Yeah, but… Never mind. I’ll run to the store.”

  “You can’t,” she reminded me patiently. “You’re in the middle of a tattoo.”

  I closed my eyes and groaned. “Shit, that’s right.”

  “You seriously forgot?”

  “No.” I opened my eyes and faced her accusing stare. “Okay, yes. I forgot. So you’ll run to the store.”

  “Can’t. Benji isn’t in until two. There’s no one else here to watch the front.”

  “His name isn’t Benji.”

  “It is in my mind.”

  I leaned back against the wall. “Can we get Benji to get coffee on his way in?”

  Sam smiled, her dark makeup giving her a sinister look. “Good to see you jumping on the bandwagon.”

  “Well, if you can’t beat ‘em…”

  “Benji won’t do it.”

  “Why not?”

  “He’s already thinking about quitting. He won’t like being made into an errand boy instead of an artist.”

  I snapped up straight on my feet. “What? Why is he quitting?”

  “’Cause he doesn’t like the vibe of the building. He thinks it’s haunted.”

  “Are you for real?”

  “No,” she chuckled, “but it’s better than his reason.”

  “What’s his reason, Sam?” I asked impatiently.

  “He doesn’t like you.”

  “I—what’d I do?”

  “Nothing. He just doesn’t like you. Says you’re boring.”

  “Well, fuck him then,” I muttered.

  Sam laughed. “You want me to tell him that.”

  “No,” I replied hotly, “you tell him I’m the shit. That I’m adorable and people love me and if he doesn’t see that then he can piss off with his floppy One Direction hair and stupid car.”

  “How is his car stupid?”

  “Dude, it’s an Avalanche. Crossovers are for pussies who can’t make a decision.”

  “Amen to that.”

  I spun around wide eyed, shocked by the voice behind me. It was Lawson’s girlfriend. Reagan? Rachel? I couldn’t remember.

  “I am so sorry you heard all of that,” I whispered frantically. “That was really unprofessional.”

  She smiled easily. “Nah, it was dead on. And you’re right. You’re adorable. Screw that guy.”

  “Benji,” Sam supplied helpfully.

  “That can’t be his real name.”

  “It might as well be.”

  The girl met my eyes, her own still smiling. “Law’s off the phone and I took it from him so he’s all yours whenever you’re ready. No more interruptions.”

  “It’s fine, really,” I assured her. “Thank you.”

  “No problem.”

  The girl went back to the room, leaving Sam and me alone in the hallway.

  “You just melted down in front of a client,” she pointed out softly.

  I nodded my head, feeling numb.

  “You need to close the shop tomorrow,” she insisted. “I’ll help you get the errands done that you don’t have time to do. We’ll be off the clock. We’ll just hang out and do whatever you need to do.”

  “I’m not going to take advantage of you. I’d pay you for the time.”

  “You don’t have to pay me to be your friend, Jenna,” she replied sharply.

  Her tone stopped me. It was hard and brittle, completely unlike her.

  She avoided my eyes, bouncing slightly on her toes.

  “What’s up?” I asked gently.

  Her eyes darted to the side, then back to me. “We never hang out anymore. You never have time.”

  “We’re here together almost every day.”

  “That’s not us being friends and you know it. I’m going through—“ her words choked off, her eyes darting away again.

  “Sam, what’s wrong?”

  “I broke up with Carter,” she blurted out.

  For the second time in ten minutes I was stunned. “Why? When?”

  “Last week.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She sniffed faintly. “You have a lot on your plate with Kellen and your family and the store. And honestly I… I wanted to see if it would stick. I wasn’t sure it was a forever thing.”

  “What can I do? How can I help?”

  “Be my friend,” she told me fervently, finally meeting my eyes. “I need her, not my boss.”

  My shoulders slumped. “Shit, Sam, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not. You’re right. I’ve been so focused on the store and Kellen, and I thought that because I saw you every day that we were good, but we’re not are we?”

  “No, we are,” she assured me, closing the distance between us and pulling me into a hug that felt so good I nearly broke down and cried. I didn’t even care that we were separated by a lumpy stack of towels. “We’re always good. I’m not doing great and I need help and I don’t talk to anyone but you about stuff. You’re all I’ve got and I’m sharing you with Kellen and that sucks.”

  “I’m sorry,” I repeated lamely.

  “Don’t be sorry. I’m being selfish.”

  I squeezed her hard. “No, you’re not. You were here first. No cutsies.”

  She laughed roughly as she stepped back from the embrace. “Really? Kellen is getting pushed aside for me?”

  “Everything is. Call Benji and tell him not to come in today. After I finish this tattoo the store is closed. Tomorrow too. You and I are going to recharge. We’ll shop and talk and eat.”

  “Cheese fries?” she asked hopefully, her excitement lighting her eyes and making her my friend again. Bringing her back to me so easily it took my breath away.

  If only everyone was so easy to pull out of the dark.

  “Is there any other kind?” I asked her with a smile.

  My phone rang in my back pocket. I debated ignoring it, I needed to get back to work, but when I saw the name on the caller ID I couldn’t bring myself to silence i
t.

  “Kellen?” Sam asked knowingly.

  “How’d you know?”

  “Your face.”

  “Oh really? Did it light up?” I chuckled, pressing the green Answer key.

  “No,” Sam said pensively. “It fell.”

  I watched speechless as she turned and walked down the hall out of sight.

  “Hello?” Kellen’s voice called distantly.

  I blinked rapidly, remembering I’d answered the call. I quickly brought it to my ear. “Uh, hi. I’m here. Hi.”

  “Is this a bad time?” Kellen asked hesitantly.

  “No. It’s fine. It’s good.” I smiled consciously at no one, hoping it would lighten my voice. My mood. “It’s never a bad time for you.”

  “I couldn’t hear you. I thought I’d lost you there for a second.”

  “No, I’m here.”

  An awkward silence fell between us. I was scared to fill it and I was unwilling to leave it alone, but luckily Kellen cleared it for us.

  “How’s work?” he asked.

  “Work is good. I’m tatting a surfer with a Sublime cover.”

  “Nice,” he chuckled. “That’s your band. He came to the right girl for that. What cover? The sun?”

  “Nope. Badfish. Red koi on the cover of the single. It’s pretty sick.”

  “It’s pretty what?”

  I closed my eyes, letting my head fall back. “I’ve been talking to a surfer for the last hour. Don’t judge me.”

  “No worries, bro,” he teased.

  “Stop.”

  “You sound like Callum.”

  “Now you’re just being mean,” I laughed.

  I could hear him laughing quietly, either at me or with me – it didn’t matter. It sounded good. It felt good to hear. It was then that I knew he was back. Back from the dark, from the void, from the weird shit that wedged itself between us and tried so hard to push me away as he did everything he could to keep me close.

  “What about you?” I asked. “What are you doing today?”

  “Missing you.”

  I felt myself blush. Ten years we’d known each other and he could still do that to me. It made me feel silly and sweet inside all at once. I loved it because I knew his words were true. Kellen didn’t put on airs. He didn’t say things to butter you up. What you got was honesty and nothing else. He was intensely private and deeply secretive but what he did allow to the surface was true.

  At least it was now. Ever since the accident.

  It happened almost a year ago to the day. Just a month after his twenty-fifth birthday, a birthday that went unnoticed and uncelebrated because that’s what Kellen wanted. He’d turned twenty-five and then he almost died. A truck t-boned the taxi he and Laney were riding in, destroying his right hand – his dominant boxing hand – and put him in a coma for three weeks. When he’d woken up he’d been different. He’d been better, actually. More the guy I’d known when we were growing up and so much less the meat puppet he’d become. He was empty all the time back then. He went into the darkness one day and didn’t bother coming out. He was working a job he hated, engaged to a girl he didn’t love, and it gutted me every time I looked at him because I saw it – the nothing. I could feel it when he was close.

  Maybe that was why I was so afraid of the times he went empty on me. Some part of me was scared he’d do it again. That he’d go under and he wouldn’t come out and the man I loved would be gone for good.

  That I’d finally lose him, once and for all.

  Chapter Four

  Kellen

  Halloween was everywhere. We’d barely turned the page into October and already it was pumpkin everything. Cookies, candles, candies, pancakes. The color orange would be burned into my retinae until Christmas. Or at least until midnight on October 31st when Halloween was shoved roughly aside and red and green exploded on the scene. Thanksgiving, apparently, could piss right off. I didn’t care for Christmas. I didn’t like it or birthdays, really any day that involved giving and receiving gifts. I wasn’t good at that.

  I wasn’t good at a lot of things.

  But luckily Santa wasn’t here yet. For now we were trapped in a pumpkin flavored hell.

  “You love pumpkin,” Jenna accused.

  “Since when?”

  “Since always I’d assume.”

  I looked sideways at her where she stood in line next to me at the coffee shop across the street from North Star Ink. She was on a break – a fifteen that she was dual purposing as lunch, this one break probably the only one she’d take all day.

  “Name one pumpkin flavored—“

  “Pie,” she answered immediately. “Muffins. Lattes.”

  “Bullshit.”

  She shook her head, smiling at my denial. “You never remember your food tastes. Fine, if you don’t believe me then try the latte. See if I’m wrong.”

  “If I’m right what do I get?”

  “A latte you don’t want to drink.”

  I smiled. “Not good enough. I need stakes.”

  “Anything. You get anything in the whole wide world.”

  “Anything, huh?”

  “Anything.”

  “That’s a bold bet.”

  “It’s a safe one because you are absolutely, positively dead ass wrong. You love pumpkin.”

  “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

  Seven minutes later I saw that she was right.

  “This is good,” I murmured into the lid of my cup as we exited the shop.

  “Told you so,” Jenna sang.

  I licked the sweet liquid from my lips and fell into step next to her. “How do you always remember?”

  “Remember what? The stuff you like?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re not going to so somebody has to.” She looked over at me suspiciously. “What would you have wanted if you won?”

  I grinned, raising my cup for another drink. “Enchiladas.”

  She hit me hard on the arm. “What is the matter with you?!”

  I laughed, deftly dodging her next hit. “I’m kidding! I was messing with you. I know I hate enchiladas.”

  “You’re a pain the ass,” she laughed.

  “But you love me.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  Jenna didn’t ask me if I loved her. She didn’t ask me to say it, both because she already knew it and because she knew me. I had a hard time with emotions, especially with communicating them. Saying ‘I love you’ wasn’t something that came natural to me, but at times like this when I was looking at her and her smile and feeling the lightness she gave me just being close to her, I wished I was better. At everything.

  “Burritos then?” she asked, smiling.

  “Nah, you’re tired. Besides,” I raised my cup full of froth and pumpkin, “I lost.”

  She shrugged. “We still gotta eat. I’ll make them tonight when I get off work.”

  I knew what that meant. She’d finish out the day, go to close the shop around seven, take one last walk-in, clean the place from top to bottom, count out the till, and she wouldn’t leave the building until after nine. She’d be exhausted and starving by then.

  I pulled out my phone and brought up the notepad. “Tell me what we need to make them. I’ll go the store now and pick it up so you don’t have to after work.”

  “Kel, I can take care of it.”

  I cast her a crooked grin. “What have I got to do today?”

  “Farmville?”

  “I’m still hooked on Angry Birds.”

  “You’re so trendy.”

  “I have time,” I insisted. “I’m only part time with the EMTs and the firehouses aren’t calling. I’ve got time to do this.”

  “I can’t believe you haven’t been called in yet.”

  “We had a calm summer. Not a lot of fires so they didn’t need to tap us volunteers.” I nudged her shoulder playfully. “No fires is a good thing, remember?”

  “It’s hard to remember that when you’re gunning to get ou
t there.”

  “I’ll get my day. I’ll see action eventually.”

  “And that – it’s hard to root for that. I don’t want you rushing into fires.” She took a sip of her drink, her eyes squinting against the afternoon sun. “Dating a firefighter is confusing.”

  I snorted. “So is dating a girl. Here. Take my phone. Ingredients. Be specific. If you say ‘pepper’ I’ll bring home the kind in a shaker.”

  Jenna laughed as she took my phone from me. “You’re hopeless.”

  “That’s the truth.”

  I watched her type out everything she’d need to make the best burritos I’d ever tasted in my life. “You’ve got dinner with your family tomorrow?”

  “Yup,” Jenna answered distractedly. “You wanna come?”

  “Not even a little.”

  “Oh, come on. You don’t want to take a death stare from Laney for old time’s sake?”

  “I got plenty of those over the years. I’m all stocked up.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  I watched her fingers work slowly over my phone, taking her time. “She still being hard on you about us?”

  Jenna paused to look up at me. “A little, yeah. Not as bad as before.”

  “I wish she’d lay off you.”

  “She has. She will. It’s getting better, I promise. She’s not angry at me anymore. It’s all on you now. She knows you didn’t cheat with me.”

  I chuckled. “Considering she used to accuse me of it every other day that’s a miracle in itself.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed, returning her eyes and attention to the phone. “I hate that I have to talk around you all the time, though. Like I’m pretending I don’t see you. Like I’m ashamed or something.”

  “You’re not, are you?”

  “I’m not what? Ashamed?”

  I nodded again, silently, but she saw it. She saw my words beginning to fail me. To fail her.

  “No, Kel,” she answered softly. “I’m not ashamed of you.”

  “Not of me. Of how we got together.”

  Jenna lowered my phone and her voice. “I don’t know. Some days yes, some days no. I—it’s hard. I feel guilty because she’s my sister and you guys were together for so long, but at the same time neither of you were in love and you and I have always been… I don’t know. There are no easy answers or fixes for us. There never have been and that’s hard.”