Unsettled (Chosen #1) Page 4

  Five

  Consequences

  I woke up the next morning to the blazing sun pouring through the front windows and winced at my extreme hangover. Counting over the amount of drinks I consumed, I couldn’t understand why I felt such a throbbing headache. Then, I felt the arms of a shirtless Teagan wrap around me as he sighed into my ragged red hair. His chest was smooth but oh so tight. He was warm and protective. Snapping to attention, I looked down to my body and realized I was fully dressed. Hmm…not a one-night stand. How very unlike me.

  “Good morning, American girl,” Teagan murmured. I lay back down and let him pull his arms around me.

  “Good morning.” I sighed. Relief flooded me when I realized I hadn’t exposed my naked body to him. Nonetheless, it had been the most intimate night I’d ever had with a guy. Even Chase had never given me this. He never wanted to cuddle or just kiss me softly and talk. He was an in and out guy and then it was on to the next task at hand.

  Last night was like no other I’d ever experienced in my life. Teagan and I stayed up until five am, talking and laughing about his life in Cork County, Ireland, and my grand gestures to travel the world, which already included most of the United States. Around five thirty, our kisses died down and we cuddled until sleep took over. He didn’t attempt anything more than feeling down my sides and brushing back my hair. I tried to understand why he didn’t want anything more from me. Most guys would have tried to score but not Teagan. I was mystified and knew Teagan was different. Sex didn’t matter to him. I was what mattered to him last night as he tried to get to know me. Maybe I had comforted him as much as he comforted me.

  He lightly kissed the side of my cheek and pulled me closer. I could hear showers turning on and off and techno music playing in the back bedrooms. I turned to look out to the hall. Freddie was standing inside the living area with one shoulder perched against the wall. With his arms crossed over his blue shirt, he stood there and watched us on the couch. Was he staring at me or us? Teagan looked up and politely said good morning to Freddie before he dropped his head down to kiss the back of my neck. As I sheepishly smiled, I heard Freddie sigh. He went to the kitchen and rummaged through the refrigerator for breakfast items.

  “Hurling in an hour,” Freddie said over his shoulder to Teagan.

  “Is it that late?” Teagan exclaimed. I could tell from his urgent change in body language that he was about to get up, so I beat him to it. I pulled off the small blanket Teagan had retrieved from his room during the night and stood to straighten my shirt.

  “Freddie,” I said. “Is there a phone here? I need to call my friend, I mean, my brother.” Reality set in about the events from the night before and my heart started to pound. I should have punched Darcy in the face to stop her from driving. What the fucking shit was she thinking? Once again, I confirmed that drinking makes all rational thoughts dissipate.

  Freddie looked at me, taking in my fully clothed body and nodded his head to the cordless phone lying next to the wall in the kitchen. I turned to Teagan. I felt like I should say something since we spent the whole night snuggled together.

  “Teagan, I need to…” I trailed off as I saw the back of his body walking to his bedroom. Okay, I guess the night is officially over.

  I turned to take the phone off the hook and caught Freddie gazing at me again. I darted my eyes away. I quickly dialed my home phone and Conner picked up on the second ring.

  “Conner,” I said hurriedly.

  “Where the fuck are you, Liz? What the fucking hell were you thinking last night? Do you know how much I hate you right now?” he screamed into the handset. I had to pull it away from my ear while Freddie looked over at me with concern.

  I took the phone into the farthest corner of the living room and slipped down to the ground, resting my head on my knees.

  “I know, Conner. I tried to stop her. She said you were going to…” I started to respond. I wanted to tell him my side of the story, since he obviously blamed me for everything even when I had tried desperately to stop her. At least I had tried to stop her. Did I do enough?

  He cut me off. “Darcy was in the fucking God damn hospital when I was called by her mother. She had a .23 blood alcohol level. She was fucking arrested last night and totaled the fucking car. What…What… Why the fuck weren’t you driving? This is entirely your fault you stupid, selfish…”

  I hung up. Shit, I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to fight him while my head continued to pound. I wanted him to see my shaking body in person. He would understand better if he knew how much last night affected me, too. She was arrested? Oh my fucking God.

  I don’t know how long I sat against that wall, gripping the phone in my hand. I wished I never called home. I wished I hadn’t hung up. Was Darcy in critical condition? Why was she hospitalized? The car was totaled. I couldn’t wrap my mind around it and one finger went to my temple to rub out the disaster that would follow. My relationship with my brother was totaled.

  Tears poured down over my stupid Bebe cropped shirt and I remembered all the things she said to me the night before. Darcy had repeatedly told me how beautiful I was and how she was so glad I was home again. Bullshit. I just wanted to crawl in a corner. I’m not beautiful. I’m not anything. I am a stupid, selfish girl that runs at any chance to start over and it landed me in the same place over and over and over. Once again, I was in a dark place and needed to feel comforting attention. I needed to get my fucking head on straight. I tried so hard to do the right thing last night and I hadn’t. Now I was with five strange men. The really nice and beautiful Teagan would only turn and walk away from me. I knew in that exact moment what to do. Run.

  I stood up abruptly, placed the phone on the stand, and grabbed my clutch. When I turned to look at Freddie in the kitchen, all I could do through my tear streaked face was fake a smile. I tore open the door and headed out in the brisk morning air towards Cleveland Circle Station. I heard Freddie’s voice calling after me as I crossed over the tracks but I didn’t look back. After boarding the train, I sat straight ahead, feeling empty and numb. The swaying of the train did nothing to shake me out of the staleness I felt.

  When the T reached the Wellesley stop, I got up slowly and started the three mile walk back to my house. After only a quarter of a mile, I tore off my heels and walked barefoot the rest of the way home. Sleep deprived and red faced, I stopped in front of my door and looked down at my watch. It was just after 1:00pm. No cars in the driveway. No noise from the inside as I put my ear against the door. I quietly opened the heavy, wooden door and crept in.

  Conner was sitting on the bottom step of the stairs with his head in his hands. He looked up when he saw me and I saw no tears. He just looked me over and started shaking his head back and forth.

  I gave him a sympathetic look and said, “I know what you think about me. I know what I think about me. Just tell me she isn’t seriously hurt.” My eyes started to tear up and my body started trembling again. I could tell that Conner noticed my trembling hands as I adjusted my clutch under my armpit. He sighed dramatically.

  After closely looking at my face, gauging whether or not to tear me a new one, he closed his eyes and said, “She isn’t seriously hurt.”

  “That’s it? What happened? How did she get into the accident?” I asked, feeling like he didn’t wanted to punish me by not telling me anything.

  “Well, she was drunk, Lizzie,” he said somberly. I took a deep breath.

  “I am so sorry, I know,” I whispered. “Please tell me what happened.”

  “She ran into two guard rails and her car flipped over. It took the Jaws of Life to get her out. She was banged up pretty bad. She was taken to the hospital and then this morning, the cops arrested her,” Conner said numbly.

  “Is she out? Can I go see her?” I asked.

  “No one wants to see you, Lizzie,” he said.

  I started to cry. Big angry tears and hiccups prevented me from explaining what happened. But it was my fault and no o
ne had to tell me that twice. I would live with the shame for a long time.

  I quickly rushed by him, up the stairs and rounded the banister to my room. I quietly closed and locked my door. I tore off my clothes quickly and pulled on the biggest, ugliest tee shirt I could find. I flipped my Sarah McLaughlin CD in my player and lay down in my bed. After long thoughts of what would have happened if I didn’t drink last night, I wondered if I cared about what could have happened with Teagan. I slowly closed my eyes and drifted into a dark and deep sleep.

  Six

  Conversation

  I woke up at five thirty in the evening, feeling groggy and dreadful. After staring up at the ceiling, I had a sudden urge to call Darcy to apologize. I didn’t know how much she remembered. I went to my cordless phone in the corner and dialed Darcy’s number. I wouldn’t go near Conner to ask how she was because I knew the conversation would end up with the blame on me. On the third ring, Darcy’s mother answered the phone.

  “Hi, Mrs. Worthington. Is Darcy there?” I asked, tentatively.

  Darcy’s mother sighed and I listened for her response. I tensed my hands in my lap and sat straight up. She had to answer me. It was the civil thing to do, and if nothing else, Mrs. Worthington was polite to a fault. She’s a polished Wellesley woman. She must’ve known I was the one that was with her and the one that tried to body block her car…twice. I rubbed my side and knew there had to be one hell of a bruise. But, I did have every right to know what Darcy was feeling towards me and what happened last night.

  “Lizzie, now is not a good time. Darcy is sleeping. Perhaps you could call her another time,” she murmured.

  “Mrs. Worthington, I am so sorry. I don’t know how I could possibly make up for what happened but it was my fault and I should have tried harder to stop her from driving. I promise I did everything I could to take the keys and stop…”

  The phone clicked off. I set the phone down on the cradle and lay down on the floor before I started to cry quietly again. I didn’t think I would ever be able to make my friendship with Darcy right. I didn’t deserve to be her friend.

  As I listened to the murmurs and noises from the rest of the house, I tried to think of something appropriate to say should I run into my mom or dad. After pulling it together, trying to pep talk myself into believing that tomorrow would be a better day, I tiptoed out to the bathroom. I took a long shower. It felt so good to clean off the night before. I wanted to wash all the guilt and shame from my body. After I dried off, I inched the door open to watch for any signs of my family then dashed to my room. I saw a tray with a sandwich and a bottle of water next to my closed door. I picked it up quickly then locked my door. I wanted to lock out the memories. I wanted to lock out everyone who knew what happened. I didn’t even want to face my mother or father after another disastrous moment of my life. If I were a little bit stronger, or less hung over, I may have gone downstairs to face the music, but no… I decided to hide for as long as I could.

  Sunday morning came in lazy. I watched the large oak tree sway in the breeze through the window next to my bed. I heard the neighborhood kids playing and riding their bikes. I watched the lawnmowers and the occasional expensive car passing by. I turned to look out my front window to my red Geo Prism on the side of the road. Why am I here? Why did I come home? Sure, I fucked up in Oregon, too, but at least my family didn’t have front row seats. I could be anonymous there but here… Everyone knows I’m unfastened and out of control. I stayed in my room, my only safe place. Watched the scary world from inside my respite, I prayed the outside wouldn’t swallow me whole the next time I stepped out on the front steps.

  By two pm, I was sitting on the floor by the side of my bed, throwing M&M’s at my door. I concentrated on the candies that were flying through the air. It seemed the green ones always bounced off the door while the brown ones slipped past the one inch space between the door and its frame. I jumped when a knock on my door took me out of the brown, green, and red meditation. It had been twenty four hours since I talked to another soul and I was content to let it stay that way. I stayed silent, hoping that whoever was at the door would just leave.

  “Liz, I know you’re awake,” Conner belted out from the other side of the door, trying to open it.

  “What?” I yelled.

  “You have a phone call. Some guy, Irish maybe?” he replied.

  I started towards my cordless and realized it was dead from being off the hook for so long. I quietly opened the door and stuck my hand out for the phone. Conner handed it to me and looked down at the brown M&Ms and said, “Nice.” As I closed the door, I saw him kneel down and pick up some of them then pop them in his mouth. Gross.

  I sat back down on the floor and cautiously put the phone to my ear. “Hello?” I answered tentatively.

  “Lizzie?”

  Teagan.

  “Yes? This is she,” I replied wearily.

  “Ah, so I did get the right number,” he said with a smile in his voice. It melted my heart and instantly, my numb feeling started to dissipate.

  “Hey, Teagan. How did you get my number?” I asked.

  “Ah, well, you called this number from my place yesterday before you left,” he stated. “Freddie said you looked upset when you left so I thought I would call and see how you are getting on.”

  “Well…” I sighed, not sure if I really wanted to have this conversation. I paused for a minute. Wait, why is he calling me? Am I excited about this? Is this connection to the latest worst-night-of-my-life going to trigger more days of self-loathing?

  “Lizzie?” he asked, sounding concerned.

  “Yeah, I’m here. Listen, a lot of crazy shit went down the other night with Darcy and I’m kind of not doing well. I’m not really sure I want to talk about it,” I replied.

  “Ah. Okay. Well, I was going to call you yesterday but we had practice then we had a concert last night. So…I am calling now.”

  “Concert?”

  “Yeah, David Gray,” he said with a chuckle. “He was brilliant.”

  “Oh yeah, I know him. British, right?” I probed.

  “Mmm-hmm. So what are you doing today?” he asked. I paused. Was he asking me out? What in God’s name is this? No guy calls the after a night like that. Well, not since Chase.

  “I… I… I’m just sitting here throwing M&Ms at my door. It really is quite fascinating,” I deadpanned.

  “M&M’s? Are you eating them as well? Ah, never mind. You have a car, correct? I think I remember you saying that Friday night or Saturday morning,” he said with innuendo. He obviously wanted to see me. He liked being with me on Friday night.

  “Yes. I have my beater, but it got me 3000 miles across the country, so it’s safe to say, I have a car,” I rambled on, explaining way too much about my car. I already felt the anticipation about seeing Teagan again.

  “Can you come over? Maybe we could go for a walk or something,” he asked with more persistence.

  “Umm. Sure. What time?”

  “How about now?”

  “Well, I need to take a shower and do some other stuff. How about 3:30?” I glanced in the mirror and realized I had some serious work to do.

  “Sounds perfect,” he replied. “Oh and Lizzie? I want to give you my phone number in case you have trouble finding the place again.”

  “It’s okay. I have caller ID and I’m writing it down now. Plus, I memorized the steps I sat on for hours that night. I should be fine,” I said with a little sarcasm.

  “Great. See you later.” He hung up.

  I sat there, looking at the phone in my hand. I started off the floor and collected all my candies and threw them into the trash. I lit a candle then a cigarette and fell onto my bed. I popped David Gray into my CD player and turned it on full blast.

  An hour later, I left a note for my family that I was meeting an old friend for dinner and I would call as soon as I knew my plans. I jumped in my car and headed for Route 9, straight back to Teagan, a guy that I suddenly had butterfl
ies for. Our phone call was brief but it was full of something different. Promising? He explained why it took him a whole day to call me? Maybe I meant more to him. Oh hell, I was probably just reading too much into it.

  Seven

  Walk

  When I pulled up to Teagan’s place on Commonwealth Avenue, it was clear that all the residents were still going about their lazy Sunday. There was absolutely no parking. With a dreadful sigh, I double parked outside his place and ran up the stairs only to find that I didn’t actually remember the apartment number. I hit all the first floor apartment buzzers.

  I looked down to my dark Dickies jeans and Counting Crows tee and wondered how different I looked in my normal attire. Would Teagan notice I wasn’t wearing expensive clothes and jewelry? My hair was naturally pulled back in a wet, messy bun. Long hair was usually my preference but I always pulled it back to keep the front locks out of my eyes. I loathed my thick red hair when it got in my face. Cian answered the door and smiled brightly at me.

  “Come on. Nice to see you again, Lizzie,” he said.

  I gave him an affectionate smile and started up the steps behind him. “You too.”

  When I entered the apartment, it was quiet. There was no TV, no noisy boys, no nothing. “So, is Teagan here?” I asked, feeling uncomfortable. I didn’t know if I wanted to see him now that I was actually there. The apartment felt familiar yet I was still a stranger. I couldn’t help wondering what I had signed up for when I agreed to this outing. Evidently, I did want to see him since I was in his apartment, ready to spend a few hours with him, sober nonetheless.

  The memory of his touch and his smile cooled my nerves a little. Then, I thought of Freddie’s smile and that gave my stomach a jolt, too. Maybe, subconsciously, I wanted to see Freddie again, too. Fuck, my mind was playing games. You can’t want them both, Lizzie. Focus on Teagan. Freddie wasn’t the one who called.