Before You Go Page 11

  "I'm coming."

  As the hotel door clicked shut behind us, I decided I needed to stop waiting to tell Laurel about my CMSU offer. I would give her some space to sort herself—and the fundraiser—out when we got home, but then we needed to have a chat about what the future held. I couldn't give Marsha or CMSU an answer without talking to Laurel first.

  Isaac

  "Are you even listening to me?" Jocelyn grumbled in my ear.

  I answered honestly, "No."

  "Who pissed in your Cheerios, little brother?" It was no wonder Drew was so vulgar. At least he came by it honestly.

  "Listen, have you heard from Laurel?"

  She made a clucking sound across the phone line. At some point during our conversation I found my way to the couch in the living room, but now I stood up and resumed pacing the house. I felt like a caged fucking animal in my own home.

  "I haven't actually," she admitted. "All my correspondence the last couple weeks has come from other people on her behalf. I just figured she was busy. Did something happen?"

  "Oh yeah, something happened. And then nothing happened."

  "What? Why are you talking in riddles?"

  Since getting back from our overnight in the city, I couldn't get ahold of Laurel. I tried calling, texting, emailing, and even dropped by her office a couple of times. She was MIA. I knew something was wrong that morning in the hotel and cursed myself for not pushing the issue. I gave my answer to CMSU on Friday. Laurel still didn't know about the offer, much less about my final decision.

  An incoming call interrupted our conversation. Checking to see who it was, I was surprised to see Zack's name flash across the screen. The only time he ever called me was with questions about the art show, but I got a strange feeling that I really needed to answer.

  "Joc, I have to answer another call."

  "We're not done talking," she complained.

  "I know. I'll call you back later."

  I switched the calls without waiting for her to disconnect. "Hello?" I said into the other line.

  "Isaac?"

  "Yeah, Zack, what's up?"

  His throat cleared with a watery sound as if he was crying. "I'm sorry to bother you but… do you think maybe you could give me a ride?"

  Hell, what else did I have to do? "Sure. Where do you need me to take you?"

  There was a long pause before he answered, "The hospital."

  "What? Why?"

  "I think I need stitches," he muttered.

  I swore under my breath but already I was grabbing my keys and heading out the door. "Text me your address," I told him. "I'm on my way."

  A message from Zack pinged to my phone as I slid into the car. I plugged address he sent me into my GPS and shot out of my driveway quicker than I meant to. I tried dialing Laurel but wasn't surprised when the call was sent to voicemail after a few rings. I didn't bother to leave a voicemail.

  When I pulled up to the house, Zack was sitting outside on the dilapidated front steps. He was holding a bloody washrag up to his face, just above his left eyebrow. Before I could get out, he slunk his way into my passenger seat.

  "What the hell happened?" I asked.

  He wouldn't look at me. "Dad's on a bender."

  I paused with my hand on the gear shift. "Did he hit you?"

  "No," Zack answered emphatically. "He's at the bar. This happened because of my mom. She happened to pull up their bank account info and saw he's been at the bar running their card all day. I'm pretty sure he drained their bank account. She started throwing things. I just happened to come out of my room to check on her right as she was chucking a plate at the wall. Plate ended up nailing me instead."

  The sincerity on his face convinced me he was telling the truth. Not that it helped much. The kid was in a seriously shitty situation and there wasn't much I could do. Besides giving him a ride, that was.

  "Your mom didn't wanna go with you to the hospital? Make sure you're okay?"

  Zack shook his head, sighing. "She's hysterical. Still mad at dad and now upset with me for not keeping out of the way. It's complicated."

  It was hard for me to relate to what he was going through. I was lucky enough to grow up with a set of perfectly normal parents. I couldn't remember my mom ever throwing anything except maybe a frisbee in the park.

  A gray-haired woman stood looking frazzled in front of the emergency room doors when we pulled up. She practically jumped out of her skin when she caught sight of Zack in the passenger seat.

  "Friend of yours?" I asked.

  He clenched his teeth. "My aunt. Mom probably called her." He waved at her but didn't get out right away. "Thanks for the ride. Sorry to drag you into the mess. Ms. Bell didn't answer and there wasn't really anyone else I could call."

  "Don't worry about it. You sure you don't want me to come in?"

  His eyes widened so slightly that I almost didn't notice it. "Nah. It's fine."

  I watched as the woman pulled the rag away from his face and paled at the sight of whatever was going on underneath. Satisfied that someone was with him, I pulled slowly away from the hospital and turned towards home. I barely made it a few minutes down the road before my cell phone was ringing again.

  What was with all the fucking phone calls all of the sudden?

  I glanced in the cup holder where I always stuck my phone when I was driving but it wasn't there. Cursing, I realized it must have slid off into the floorboards somewhere. I spied a grocery store right up ahead and turned into its parking lot. After scrounging around in the floor under my feet, I managed to find it and answer the call just before it went to voicemail.

  "Isaac?"

  "Yeah, Drew, what do you need?" His answering hiccup raised my suspicions. "Are you drunk?" I asked, incredulous.

  "Okay, yes. But before you get mad at me, that's not why I called. Laurel is here with some guy. Like here with him, here with him. I think. I'm pretty sure."

  "Where's 'here'?" I growled.

  "The Purple?" he said, though he didn't sound entirely sure.

  I could make out quite a bit of sound in the background. I didn't recognize the name of the place though. I wracked my brain trying to figure out where he was talking about. The only thing close was—

  Was he talking about The Burgundy?

  "Hey, I gotta go," Drew announced, practically shouting into my ear.

  "Wait—" The phone line clicked dead.

  One fucking thing after another.

  Laurel

  "Laurel, we only have a week left. The DJ needs a final decision."

  "Hey, Mark?" The bartender was quick to look my way. "Can I have another Long Island Iced Tea?" I batted my eyelashes when he hesitated.

  "No. Nuh-uh." Derek held up a hand to stop Mark from filling the order.

  I pushed my lower lip out in a childlike pout. "Please, one more?"

  "No way, Laurel. For one, I'm not having a replay of the last time you wound up wasted here. Secondly, I'm not crazy about the fact that you're on a first name basis with the bartender. Now, will you please focus?"

  "Ivy always says I should get out and have fun more." I tried to catch Mark's eye again but apparently, he wasn't too keen on going toe-to-toe with Derek over my drinking habits.

  "I'm fairly certain this isn't what she meant. And honestly, can you really say you're having fun right now?"

  He stared pointedly at the three empty glasses sitting next to me. I bristled defensively. When Derek called to see if we could meet to finalize some of the fundraiser details, he was the one that suggested the bar. All the campus buildings were already closed so it made sense at the time. I wasn't sure why he was so surprised to find me drinking when he showed up twenty minutes after me.

  Drinking was what bars were for, right? Especially when someone was looking to drown out their every last emotion.

  "I'm having loads of fun," I deadpanned.

  Derek groaned. It was obvious he was quickly tiring of my foul mood. I hadn't seen him much in the la
st couple weeks since I chose to lay low and work from home. It meant doing twice as much work, too, since I was getting limited help while I was hiding.

  I ran my hand over the bar top, a nervous habit I developed as a child. Derek would just keep badgering me until I gave him an answer. "Tell the DJ to do the specialized playlist."

  "Are you sure? It might make the end of the night a bit of a downer."

  "I think that will work in our favor, though. Who's gonna wanna buy breakup art while love songs are playing? People will come in on the upbeat love songs, and then slowly we can transition over to the slower breakup stuff. It'll mirror what we're doing with the art." I nodded, more to myself than to him. "It's risky but I think we can use it to our advantage."

  Derek's leg shook nervously under the counter. When I worked in the library during my senior year, one of the girls was dating a guy who did that same thing often. Because I was so familiar with the gesture, it was something I noticed almost right away.

  "What?" I probed since obviously, something was bothering him.

  "Are you sure you don't wanna just go the smooth jazz route? It's what people are probably expecting, anyway."

  "That's exactly what I don't want. It's too formal and stiff, which is the reputation we're trying to move away from. Using popular music will stand out. It's young and fun, even if some of the songs are on the more emotional side."

  Derek grabbed his water glass and took a huge gulp. "Okay, look. I'm just a little worried that the music might be too much for you."

  "What? Why?"

  He stared at me as if it should be the most obvious thing in the world. When I didn't react, he squinted. "Are you serious? It's so beyond obvious that something happened between you and Mr. Naughty Professor."

  It irked me to hear that stupid nickname. Ivy was ridiculous for coming up with it, and Derek was even more ridiculous for continuing to use it.

  "Nothing has changed," I insisted. "He was just helping with the fundraiser. But everything is mostly ready now."

  "That's bullshit and you know it. You went into the city with him overnight, and you've been weird ever since you got back."

  Ivy and her big mouth.

  "It was a moment of weakness. Nothing to get worked up about." He opened his mouth to say something else but I held my hand up to stop him. "The music will be fine, so drop it," I snapped.

  It was a major relief that Mark approached at that moment because Derek looked about ready to throttle me. He slid a full glass across the bar in front of me. I closed one eye and studied the glass with the other.

  "This looks suspiciously like water," I said.

  Mark made a show of peering into the glass. "Huh, whaddya know? It is water." I jutted my lip out but he hooked a finger under my chin and forced my mouth back into place. "No pouting. I'm pretty sure I remember you practically getting carried out of here last time. If you pace yourself you can stick around longer."

  "I don't need to stay much longer," I protested. "We're almost done here."

  He grinned. "Selfishly, I was hoping you might stick around anyway."

  Mark winked at me in a way that was a little too rehearsed. Despite every fiber of my being screaming at me to do the opposite, I leaned in closer. Gross. The whole thing was making me feel gross.

  Derek jolted off his bar stool. "I'm getting Ivy," I was pretty sure I heard him grumble as he stormed away.

  "Uh-oh. I think I might have gotten you into trouble." He grinned like that didn't actually bother him at all.

  I shrugged and took a sip of the water. Though I would never admit it, even just a few sips helped clear my head immensely. Unfortunately, that also managed to bring Isaac back to the forefront of my mind. I slid my arms forward across the bar so that my arms rested against Mark's. He smirked at the contact.

  Don't do this, my mind pleaded with me.

  "You have a great smile," he said.

  I forced myself to keep a straight face. It was so clearly a line. I wasn't even smiling when he said it. "Thanks," I made myself respond.

  He ran a finger over the inside of my arm. I was highly considering running away as goosebumps—not the good kind—formed over my arms.

  "Hell no." Ivy shoved herself between my bar stool and the counter so that she was blocking Mark and I. "This is not happening."

  Mark laughed and moved right along to another group further down the bar. He didn't seem even remotely fazed by the interruption, which meant it was probably good that Ivy intervened when she did. I wasn't doing great at decision-making at the moment.

  "Normally, I would be super proud of you for getting your flirt on with the hot bartender. However, I'm not super into you ho'ing it up while everyone knows you're stupid in love with Mr. Naughty Professor."

  "Whatever."

  "Don't you 'whatever' me." Ivy crossed her arms over the rocker chic vest she was wearing. "You're being stupid. Especially considering your man just walked in ten minutes ago and saw that whole fucking exchange."

  A wave of nausea swept over me. "What?" I spluttered, hoping I misheard her.

  She pointed behind me, not bothering to be discreet. I swiveled on my stool, turning just in time to see Isaac following Drew out of the bar. I slid down off my seat, though it was wholly unnecessary since I had no intention of following them out. Derek picked that moment to rejoin us.

  "He saw all of that?" I asked. I really felt like I might be sick.

  "Yup. Sorry, pal."

  "Dammit," I breathed out.

  Derek's mouth fell open. Ivy's eyes widened as she gasped, "Did you just curse?" She turned back to Derek. "Did Laurel just curse?"

  "Dammit!" I repeated louder.

  Ivy raised both her hands in a calming gesture. "Laurel, it's okay. Just call and ask him to come back. Tell him you were just being petty."

  "No."

  "You're acting like a child." Ivy's tone was sharp, a clear sign of her irritation with me.

  She knew something happened after the NYC trip, but she didn't know the details. Sucking in a sharp breath, I explained, "Isaac took a job somewhere else. Like, in another state."

  "What!" Ivy shrieked, the sound making Derek cringe. "Where?"

  "I'm not sure," I admitted. "I overheard him on the phone."

  Ivy gaped at me. "Did you ask him about it?" I shook my head, my guilt weighing heavily on me. "Why the hell not?"

  "Don't you think if he wanted me to know then he would have mentioned it?" Panic was welling up inside me, making me irrational. "I fell for the same crap as last time. I was skipping along thinking we were building something together. Meanwhile, he's taking me to bed in between planning to start some new life somewhere else."

  "Weren't you the one that suggested the sleepover?" Ivy pointed out.

  I was too far past that sort of rational thinking. "It doesn't matter. He's leaving. And he made sure to have a sure thing so he could get laid before he goes."

  "Laurel," Derek snapped. "That doesn't even make sense. The guy's not a toad. If he wanted easy sex I'm sure it would make much more sense for him not to double-dip."

  My ears were ringing. I didn't want to listen to them defend him. He knew he was leaving and he didn't bother to mention it. That wasn't the kind of thing a person hid from someone if they were trying to build a relationship together. The only plausible explanation was that he didn't think that's what we were doing. I needed that to be the explanation because I just couldn't come up with anything else.

  As distracted as I was by my own thoughts, I almost missed the concerned look my two friends exchanged beside me.

  Isaac

  "What the hell?"

  As I turned the corner onto my street I saw an unfamiliar car parked in the driveway. I glanced over at Drew, who was still sulking against the car door. He wasn't all too fond of me dragging him out of a bar in front of a girl he was trying to impress. Never mind the fact that he was underage and so drunk he was seeing doubles by the time I got there.

 
"Were you expecting someone?" I asked.

  He grunted a non-answer.

  I pulled into my regular spot and shut off the car. It wasn't until I was halfway up the walkway that I realized Laurel's friends, Ivy and Derek, were sitting on the bench next to my front door. The porch light illuminated their faces, both of which wore grim expressions. They looked about as excited to be there as I felt to see them.

  "How did you beat me here?" I knew for a fact that they were still standing with Laurel at the bar when I left. "Wait. More importantly, why do you know where I live?

  Derek glared at Ivy. "You don't want to know," he said.

  "We need to talk to you." Ivy's eyes were narrowed on me as if she thought I might refuse.

  I felt too worn down to argue. There was nothing that gutted me the way seeing Laurel with another man did. She wasn't the kind of woman that went prowling around in bars, which made it that much harder to see her doing just that.

  I thought things were good but now I wondered if Laurel always had one foot out the door and I just didn't notice until it was too late.

  "Come on in," I invited them wearily.

  I unlocked the door for us, stepping aside as Ivy, Derek, and Drew all filed in ahead of me. Having visitors seemed to bring Drew back to life. I heard him making a pathetic attempt to hit on Ivy that she merely laughed off. Poor kid.

  All three of them sat down in my living room but I stayed standing. "What's up?" I asked, my suspicions suitably raised.

  "Think of this as, like, your own personal intervention," Ivy answered.

  "Intervention?" I laughed hard, the sound dying off only when I realized she didn't look even slightly amused. "Ah shit, I guess I should sit for this."

  "Laurel overheard your phone call at the hotel about your new job," Ivy blurted out before I actually made it to a seat.

  My heart felt like it stopped beating altogether. "What?"

  Derek glared at her. "Damn, Ivy. You couldn't have eased the guy into that one?"

  Ivy shrugged it off. Her eyes focused on me, genuine concern showing in them. "I'm pretty sure she's convinced you're leaving with no intention of even telling her. That's not true, right?"